Macpherson smiled at the young man´s simulated gaiety, and set himself down beside him to their frugal meal. When he had finished, he lighted his pipe and took a more hopeful tone. “I have not yet told you,” he said, “why I came here this morning, but the day is young and we have two good hours before us yet. We had a brave night of it.” “A raid on the fish-house?” Gervase inquired. “I heard an expedition was forward, but I did not know that you were out. Have you succeeded?” “In truth,” Macpherson answered, “we came off better than I hoped. But the fish had never been caught that we hoped to catch, and we shot our nets in vain. Having given up hope of Kirke and his ships, the Fourteen thought we might open up communication with Enniskillen, and Walker found a lad who thought he knew the way, and had the heart to make the journey. So having first set the story going that we purposed making a push for the fish-house, we waited until dark, and then pushed off up the river with the purpose of landing the lad outside the enemy´s lines. So there we were in the dark, Murray and myself and some fifteen others of the die-hard sort, holding by the gunwhale, and listening to the Irish mounting their guard and singing their idle songs. It passed very well till we got as far as Evan´s Wood, and then by ill luck the moon must come out and ruin us wholly. They caught sight of us there in the boat pulling hard in mid-stream, and then a great gun sent the shot driving past our ears like ducks in winter. They kept up the fire from the shore, but the night was, as you know, dark and stormy, and the moon that had given us so ill a start, went down behind the clouds again. I was strong for turning back, for I saw the lad had lost his spirit, but they must needs hold on as far as Dunnalong, and so we got so far and proposed to land our messenger. But we might as well have been abed, for the great gun had taken away his appetite for the venture, and he would not set a foot on shore. There was nothing for it but to go back the way we came, and put the best face we could on our bootless errand. So we came pulling down stream, never knowing the minute when a round shot would send us to the bottom, when we saw two boats making for us in the gray of the dawn that was now something too clear for safety. They were our old friends the dragoons, and soon the bullets began to fly, and we returned their fire with so much fervour that they kept their distance, like the careful lads they are. Then says Murray, who likes nothing better than a melée, ‘Lay us alongside the rascals, and we´ll treat them to a morning dram;´ and though they would have sheered off when they saw us resolute to close, we even ran up under their stern, and had clambered on board in a twinkling. We made short work of them and threw them overboard with a will. Some of them went to the bottom, and some of them got ashore, but for their boat we brought it with us, and it is even now lying by the quay.”