It was almost dark already, and by the direction my captors rowed I concluded I was to be taken, not to Rathmullan, but to a landing-place nearer the lough mouth. They cruised about till it was quite dark, and then put in for a point called Carrahlagh, some miles south of my old home on Fanad. Here my feet were loosed and I was ordered to march with my company inland. The man with the gun walked by my side. The others, who as we went along were joined by some half-score of confederates at various points, who all gave a watchword on joining, talked among themselves eagerly. Presently we came to a hill--one I knew well--and here the stragglers began to muster in larger numbers, till as we came to the hollow basin below the top I counted nearly fifty. A few of them I recognised as old gossips of my father's, but for the most part they were strangers who seemed to have come from a distance. About ten of the number carried guns, the rest were all armed with either clubs or sticks, while one or two carried rude pikes. I noticed that one of my captors, not he who guarded me, was looked up to as the leader of the gathering; and when by common consent a circle was formed, and sentinels posted, one on either side of the hollow, it was he who stepped forward and spoke. If he was an Irishman, his voice did not betray him. Indeed, he spoke more like an Englishman, with a touch of the foreigner at the tip of his tongue. The first part of his speech was about matters I little understood-- about some Bill before the Irish Parliament at Dublin, and the efforts of the friends of the people to defeat it. Then he went on to talk of the great events taking place in Paris:--How the whole people were up in arms for liberty; how the king there had been beheaded, and the streets were flowing with the blood of the friends of tyranny. From end to end of France the flag of freedom was floating. Was Ireland to be the only country of slaves in Europe? She had a tyrant worse than any of whom France had rid herself. The English yoke was the one secret of the misery and troubles of Ireland, and so on. "Boys!" cried he, "the soldiers of liberty are looking at you. They're calling on you to join hands. Are you afraid to strike a blow for your homes? Must I go and tell them that sent me that the Irishman is a coward as well as a slave? There's fighting to be done, if there's only men to do it--fighting with the men who wring the life's blood out of you and your land-- fighting with the toadies who are paid by England to grind you down-- fighting with the blasphemers who rob your priests and your chapels-- fighting with the soldiery who live on you, and tax you, and insult your wives and daughters. It's no child's play is wanted of you. We want no poltroons in the cause. We know the people's friends, and we know their enemies; and it's little enough quarter will be going on the day we reckon accounts. Arrah, boys!" cried he, letting go his foreign air for