He was indeed a target for death, I felt bitterly angry with myself, and decidedly frightened 89 well. Meanwhile there was neither sound nor movement in the strange car. However, I pulled myself together somehow, and addressing the denser darkness beneath the hood, asked, with as much arrogance as I could assume, who they were and where they were going. I had hardly spoken, when a man's voice said in tones of unmistakable relief, "Turn on the lights, Regan." And the head-lights flashed up again. A small light in the body of the car was also switched on. It showed that the men though their faces were darkly shadowed by caps and mufflers -were at all events not wearing masks. I felt immensely relieved-and it was amusing to find that the strangers shared my relief, for they also had been alarmed. The sudden flash of a toreh in the bushes, and the sight of Twohig confronting them in the middle of the road, had left no room for doubt that they had been ambushed by raiders! The owner of the car said his way lay through the village of Clashagoppul, some fifteen miles farther on, and offered to drive me there. As it happened, I knew a family in Clashagoppul who would surely take me in for the night. The chances were all against our car being fit for the road again that night, and in any case we had no lights. The stranger gave Twohig a lift as far as a cottage by the roadside, where I hoped he would easily obtain food and shelter, for the Irish peasant is the most hospitable creature on earth. To my surprise, as we approached the cottage, the light in the window suddenly disappeared. We knocked and called in vain; nobody would answer the door. At the next house a man was leaning out over the halfdoor when the car stopped. He withdrew precipitately, and the light was extinguished. However, he presently emerged cautiously by the back-door, and though he announced he would admit no strangers into his house, I was able to persuade him to give Twohig some food, and allow him to warm himself at the fire. Meanwhile my benefactor was showing signs of impatience. This was the worst distriot in the country, he said. Quite close by, a police barrack had been evacuated, and small village deserted account of the prevailing lawlessness; the sooner we moved on the better. on We oovered the distance to Clashagoppul at a record pace. Regan, the driver, dashed the car through muddy hollows, over stony ridges, and round perilous corners with equal impartiality. His master peered out from time to time, urging him to go faster. The rain battered our faces, and the car leaped and swayed on the bad road till one did not know one moment where one would find oneself the next. ing a turn into a sheltered hollow, a faint whistle sounded, and we raced past a crossroads: for a second I heard the skirl of pipes, and caught a glimpse of a long row of men drilling. Round- burning in the main street of Clashagoppul. I wished to telephone to my people at home, knowing they must be anxious about me; so my benefactor put out at the grocery-store owned by one Daniel Herlihy, a very respectable man, who had installed a telephone and electric-light in his shop, and who owned a Ford car and a permit, though rumour said he had been warned to make no use of the latter. The sudden slowing of the car, accompanied by an exclamation from my benefactor, made me open my eyes, which I had closed owing to the lashing rain. We were passing through a deep-wooded glen a few miles from Clashageppul. Just ahead, a great obstacle reared itself right in the middle of the road. At first sight, lit up as it was by the white glare from the headlights, it suggested a model of the rising sun carved in rough stone, the rays spread-. ing fan-like to either side of the road. A closer view showed it to be the stump and roots of a huge tree placed on its side, reinforced with brushwood, and to all appearance completely blocking the road. Regan, however, must have detected a weak spot, for after moment's hesitation he rushed the car to the left of the obstacle, and though it grazed the roots on one side and the edge of the road on the other, it came safely through. I fully expected a volley of shots from the high rocky banks, but it is evident that these responsible for the obstacle had grown tired of waiting in the rain for a chance car, and had taken themselves off. In spite of the lateness of the hour, lights were still To my surprise, before I could reach the door it was slammed in my face; I heard the key grating in the look, and the cheerful shop-window became dark. I knocked and shook the door violently-something gave way, and it opened. The shop was plunged in complete darkness. I stumbled in a little way and stood still, uncertain what to do next. Regan, who had evidently grasped the situation, followed me. "Ah, Danny, come out of that now," he said; "sure ye've no call to be afraid this time. 'Tis only a lady wanting to telephone." He switched on the light; Danny Herlihy rose from beneath the counter, looking foolish, and thrusting into an inner pocket something suspiciously like a revolver. He was profuse in his apologies. "When I seen the motor at the door, I thought maybe some of them Sinn Feiners was after me perr 'Faith, there's no knowi they'd take a notion out and shoot ye; shoot ye dead, mir |