'It's the entry doors being opened to let the wolf out,' he said in reply. 'Ah, there he is.' I glanced out of the window, and saw the squire alone in his gig, a smile on his face, his whole bearing as cool and unconcerned as if there was not a single enemy within a thousand miles. Then I heard the great doors clang to, and as they did so, the crowd gave vent to a howl of delighted rage. At the first appearance of the squire in his gig, the people had swayed back, and left an open space in front of the hotel. Now they seemed about to close in on him, and one man in the front stooped to lift a stone. Quick as lightning, the hand of the squire went to his breast, and just as the man stood upright to throw, I heard the sharp crack of a pistol. The man uttered a wild shriek of pain, clapped his hands to his cheeks, and plunged into the crowd. The bullet had entered at one cheek and gone out at the other, after tearing away a few teeth in its passage. The man was the very person who had made the mistake in shooting at me over-night. 'A near nick that for our friend,' said the squire in his clear voice, while the crowd swayed back a pace or two. 'But the next will be nearer still, and I've nearly half-a-dozen still left. Now, will any of you oblige me by stooping to lift a stone?' He paused and glanced round, while every man in the crowd held his breath and stood still as a statue. 'No? you won't oblige me,' he said presently, with a sneer. Then fierce as if charging in some world-famous battle: 'Out of my way, you scoundrels! Faugh-a-ballagh!' At the word, he jerked the reins slightly, and the mare moved forward at a trot with head erect, and bearing as proud as if she knew a conqueror sat behind her. Then, in utter silence, the crowd swayed to right and left, leaving a wide alley, down which the squire drove as gaily as if the whole thing were some pleasant show. When he had disappeared, the crowd closed to again, utterly crestfallen. Then for a short time the whole air was filled with their chattering one to another like the humming of innumerable bees; and presently, without a shout, and without a single stone being thrown, the great mass melted away. Next morning, at an early hour, I left Sligo as fast as a covered conveyance could carry me. I did not care to wait for the slower means of escape by foot, fearful that next time a mistake was made with me the shooting might possibly be better than it was at first. PROCESSIONARY CATERPILLARS.