Juno, finding her way suddenly obstructed, flung up her head and swerved inland, and before she could gather herself I had leaned across and lifted her panting burden in my arm. Juno might go now for me! As for Paddy, no one knows how much at that critical moment I owed to his steady help. The little lady looked up with a half smile as I set her before me on the saddle. Then her head fell back on my shoulder in a faint, and I had the sweetest and (for all we walked the whole way) the shortest ride home I ever knew. It was with a sore heart that presently I surrendered my burden to her mother's arms, and addressed myself to the task of recompensing my brave Paddy for that day's feat. While I rubbed him down, up came Martin, and my spirits rose. "Go along away out of that, you blundering spalpeen," said he, with a cuff on the ear. "I'll learn you to meddle, so I will. Go and clean the pots, and let the horse alone." "Clean the pots yourself," said I, pretty hot, "and leave the horse to one that can ride him." He gaped at me in his stupid way. "You'll swallow it in time," said I, having finished my rubbing down. "Wait out there, like a jewel, till I put the beast away, and then you shall call me spalpeen again." I think he was more astonished to be defied than he chose to confess. Anyway he waited for me. "Now," said I, "Mister Martin, I'm waiting for you." He made a lunge at me, which I dodged, and before he knew where he was I had him on the cheek-bone so suddenly that he slipped and tumbled on the ground. I was two years older than the day I had fought Tim, poor Tim, on the cliff at Fanad. And to-day I was so uplifted I could have fought an army. So it was a disappointment when Martin stumbled to his feet and sheered off with a threat of vengeance. What cared I? Paddy and I had won a race, and my little mistress was safe. Yet Martin, as will appear presently, was a man of his word. CHAPTER NINE. BEHIND THE INN DOOR AT RATHMULLAN. I know not what account of our adventure was given by my little mistress to her parents, but certain it was I found myself risen in the good graces of the mother, if not in those of his honour. As to the latter, his graces, good or bad, were hard to calculate. Perhaps he disliked me less than before, rather than liked me better. He said nothing, except to reprimand me for assaulting Martin. But I suspected it was no special love for Martin which called forth the rebuke. And now, for a time, things went uneasily at Knockowen. For a sour man, his honour kept a good deal of company; and I, who waited upon them, with eyes and ears open, could see that my master was playing a difficult and dangerous game.