When Robert broke in upon the converse under the colonnade, Master Phil did not at first take heed of him, for that worthy, who was always ready to touch his hunting-cap with good-humour to any of his master's friends, was in rueful contemplation of a fact which had lately come to his knowledge--namely, that red-haired Biddy was not true to him--that the colleen who had enthralled his affections was sadly misbehaving herself among the soldiery. Honest Phil was not specially quick-witted, yet he could put two and two together after a clumsy fashion, and he saw darkly with sorrow that the carroty-polled virgin could scarcely have been ever true if she could thus brazenly go over to the enemy. He revolved the facts in his mind that she it was who had been Miss Wolfe's post-office--that it was she who with him had carried out the pike-packing in the armoury, which had so oddly been discovered; that she it was who had wormed secrets out of him--the honest but incautious youth--which she might or might not hold _in terrorem_ now over the heads of those whom he loved best. There was but too much proof of the frail fair one's delinquency. When the Irish Slave was sacked, she had rushed yelping to the Little House, giving tongue with such vociferous howls that two soldiers speedily pursued and brought her back, and finally carried her off kicking--a special prize. For a long while her disconsolate adorer (when not on duty in surveillance over his master) searched high and low for her. Had anybody beheld a beautiful creature with ruddy locks of gold?--to see which would be to adore for ever--and so forth. But as time went on, his master's self-appointed duties became so engrossing and erratic that the servant was fain to sacrifice his private interests altogether for the nonce, trusting that some day the fair creature would turn up entrancingly spotless--constant to her swain. It was with no slight pang, then, that on that very morning he had recognised a well-known back and followed it--a broad square back covered now with purple velvet, surmounted by the well-known locks, which were shaded by a wondrous hat and feathers. The apparition led him to the riding-school!--the dreadful hall of torment which people shuddered at as they went by. Too much amazed to realise what he did, he followed still. She entered--so did he. Noisily she was embraced at once by a dozen half-drunken men in uniform, and returned their salutes with strict impartiality. He was thunderstruck! Then with terror, from his sheltered nook, he surveyed the scene.