orders, though bitterly did he regret the facility with which he had
consented to accept so inconsiderable a command. He so far disregarded
his instructions, however, as to place his whole person before a
window, in order to reconnoitre; for it was now broad daylight, though
the sun had not yet risen. Nothing rewarded this careless exposure; and
then it flashed upon his mind that, as the commander of a separate
detachment, he had a perfect right to employ any of his immediate
subordinates, either as messengers or scouts. His choice of an agent
was somewhat limited, it is true, lying between Mike and the Plinys;
after a moment of reflection, he determined to choose the former.

Mike was duly relieved from his station at the door, the younger Pliny
being substituted for him, and he was led into the library. Here he
received hasty but clear orders from the major how he was to proceed,
and was thrust, rather than conducted from the room, in his superior's
haste to hear the tidings. Three or four minutes might have elapsed,
when an irregular volley of musketry was heard in front; then succeeded
an answering discharge, which sounded smothered and distant. A single
musket came from the garrison a minute later, and then Mike rushed into
the library, his eyes dilated with a sort of wild delight, dragging
rather than carrying his piece after him.

"The news!" exclaimed the major, as soon as he got a glimpse of his
messenger. "What mean these volleys, and how comes on my father in
front?"

"Is it what do they mane?" answered Mike. "Well, there's but one maning
to powther and ball, and that's far more sarious than shillelah wor-r-
k. If the rapscallions didn't fire a whole plathoon, as serjeant Joyce
calls it, right at the Knoll, my name is not Michael O'Hearn, or my