"If required," returned my father, "I'll use them to the best
advantage."

The villains interchanged a smile.

"Pat," said the host to the postillion, "you know the safest road--do
what I bid ye--and keep his honor out of trouble if ye can."

"Go on," shouted my father--the whip cracked smartly, and off rolled
the carriage.

For half a mile we proceeded at a smart pace, until at the junction of
the three roads, Loftus took the one which the finger-post indicated
was not the Dublin one. My father called out to stop, but the
postillion hurried on, until high hedges, and a row of ash-trees at
both sides, shut in the view. He pulled up suddenly.

"Am I not an undutiful servant to disobey the orders of so good
a master as Mr. Dogherty? First, I have not taken the road he
recommended--and, secondly, instead of driving this flint into a
horse's frog, I have carried it in my pocket," and he jerked the stone
away.

"Look to your pistols, Colonel. In good old times your arms, I
suspect, would have been found in better order."

The weapons were examined, and every pan had been saturated with
water. "Never mind, I'll clean them well at night: it's not the first
time. But, see the dust yonder! I dare not turn back, and I am half
afraid to go on. Ha--glory to the Virgin! dragoons, ay, and, as I see