“Go and change your clothes as fast as you can,” said Miss Barrington, as she met him in the porch. “I am quite provoked you should have wetted your feet in such a cause.” It was no time to ask for explanations; and Conyers hurried away to his room, marvelling much at what he had heard, but even more astonished by the attitude of cool and easy indifference as to what might have imperilled a human life. He had often heard of the reckless habits and absurd extravagances of Irish life, but he fancied that they appertained to a time long past, and that society had gradually assumed the tone and the temper of the English. Then he began to wonder to what class in life these persons belonged. The girl, so well as he could see, was certainly handsome, and appeared ladylike; and yet, why had she not even by a word acknowledged the service he rendered her? And lastly, what could old Miss Barrington mean by that scornful speech? These were all great puzzles to him, and like many great puzzles only the more embarrassing the more they were thought over. The sound of voices drew him now to the window, and he saw one of the riding-party in converse with Darby at the door. They talked in a low tone together, and laughed; and then the horseman, chucking a half-crown towards Darby, said aloud,-- “And tell her that we 'll send the boat down for her as soon as we get back.” Darby touched his hat gratefully, and was about to retire within the house when he caught sight of Conyers at the window. He waited till the rider had turned the angle of the road, and then said,-- “That's Mr. St. George. They used to call him the Slasher, he killed so many in duels long ago; but he 's like a lamb now.” “And the young lady?” “The young lady is it!” said Darby, with the air of one not exactly concurring in the designation. “She's old Dill's daughter, the doctor that attends you.” “What was it all about?” “It was a bet they made with an English captain this morning that she 'd ride from Lowe's Folly to the Gap in an hour and a half. The Captain took a hundred on it, because he thought she 'd have to go round by the bridge; and they pretinded the same, for they gave all kinds of directions about clearing the carts out of the road, for it's market-day at Thomastown; and away went the Captain as hard as he could, to be at the bridge first, to 'time her,' as she passed. But he has won the money!” sighed he, for the thought of so much Irish coin going into a Saxon pocket completely overcame him; “and what's more,” added he, “the gentleman says it was all your fault!” “All my fault!” cried Conyers, indignantly. “All my fault! Do they imagine that I either knew or cared for their trumpery wager! I saw a girl struggling in a danger from which not one of them had the manliness to rescue her!” “Oh, take my word for it,” burst in Darby, “it's not courage they want!” “Then it is something far better than even courage, and I'd like to tell them so.”