I was shocked to see how Mr Gorman was changed. The sly, surly expression had given place to a hunted, suspicious look. His face was haggard and pale and his beard unkempt. He started at any little sound, and his mouth, once firm, now looked weak and irresolute. Worse still, there was a flavour of spirits about the room and the man which told its own tale, and accounted for his bloodshot eyes and shaking fingers as he looked up. "Gallagher!" he exclaimed, rising to his feet in evident panic; "what brings you here in this disguise? What have I ever done to you?" "It is no disguise, your honour," said I, in as reassuring a tone as I could assume. "I am Lieutenant Gallagher now." "And what do you want here? Why do you come in this sudden way? Go away, sir, and come when you are wanted! Where is my guard?" And the poor man, whom the landlord at Rathmullan had well described as broken, actually put out his trembling hand to reach a pistol that lay on the table. "You mistake me," said I, paying no heed to the gesture. "I came merely on business, and if you like you can call your guard in. I've nothing to say that they need not hear." "You're a good fellow, Gallagher," said his honour, reassured. "I'm a little shaken in the nerves, and your coming was so sudden. I know you could mean no harm to your old benefactor." It made my heart bleed to hear him talk thus miserably, and I resolved to shorten the interview as much as I could. "Stay and dine with me," said he, as eager to keep me now as he was to be rid of me a minute ago; "it's lonely, night after night, with no one to speak to and nowhere to go. You've heard, no doubt, I am a prisoner here." "How so, sir?" "There's a sentence of death out against me--not in the king's name, but in the name of Tim Gallagher, your brother, captain of the rebels here." "In Tim's name!" exclaimed I. "It's false! I swear he never signed it; he is not even in the country." "Don't be too sure of that. Anyway he's their chosen leader, and they do all in his name. I daren't go outside my own doors after dark for fear of a bullet." "The scoundrels!" cried I, starting up; "and they dare drag Tim's name into their vile machinations. I tell you, Mr Gorman, Tim would no more wink at murder than--than Miss Kit would. And, by the way, sir, what of Miss Kit?" He looked round with his haggard face. "What is that to you, Gallagher?" "I love her," said I bluntly, "and so I have a right to know." "You! the son of Mike the boatman, and brother of Tim the rebel! You dare--" I cut him short. "See here, Maurice Gorman; understand me. With or without you I will find her, if I have to seek her to the world's end. I've done so before now; remember how we parted last." "Oh," said he, "I know all that, and of your meeting her in Holland and placing her in Biddy McQuilkin's care. She wrote me all about that; and it's little I owe you for it. Biddy belongs, body and soul, to the rebel faction."