Yet what could I do? Young life is sweet, and hope is not to be thrown away like a burned-out match. Besides, I longed to see Tim once more before I died, and--I blushed in the midst of my terror--my little mistress. "Loose my hands," said I, "and give me the book." The muzzles of the guns laid their cold touch on my cheeks as the cord was unfastened. Then in a sort of dream I held the book and began to repeat the words. I know not how far I had gone, or to what I had pledged myself, when a sudden shout from one of the sentries brought everything to an end. "Whisht--soldiers!" was the shout. In a moment the hollow was almost empty. Men scuttled away right and left like sheep at the alarm of the dog. Those who guarded me let me go and raced for the gap. The clerk left paper and pen and lantern on the ground and slunk towards the rocks. I was left standing, book in hand, with but one of the party, and that one the leader, beside me. "Kiss the book," said he in a menacing tone. I looked at him. He was not armed, and I was as free a man as he. Quick as thought I seized the list which the clerk had dropped on the ground. "Your secret is safe," said I, flourishing it in his face, "so long as the women at Knockowen are unhurt. But my soul and my hand are my own." So saying I flung the book and struck him a blow on the breast which sent him reeling back against the rock. And off I went among the bracken, thanking God for this peril escaped. As I have often proved many a time since, the road to safety lies often on the side of danger. Most of the fugitives had made for the hills in an opposite direction to that towards which the sentinel had pointed. I went the other way, and hid myself under a broad flat rock near the roadside, guessing that no one would ever look for lurkers there. And in so doing I was able to discover what the others would have given something to be sure of:--that the sentinel's alarm had been a false one altogether, and that what he took for soldiers was no more than a party of revellers returning from a harvest dance in high good spirits along the road. I even recognised some of the familiar faces I had known at Fanad in the old days, and was sorely tempted to claim acquaintance. But prudence forbade. As sure as daylight came no effort would be spared to hunt me down. For had I not the secret of this society in my own hands, down to the very list of its members? A word from me could smoke them in their holes like rats in a drain. It was not likely I should be allowed to remain at large; and when caught next time, I might promise myself no such good luck as had befallen me to-night. So I lay low till the road was clear, and then struck north for Fanad, where I knew nooks and crannies enough to keep me hid, if need be, for a month to come.