"Will this piece of black cloth do, which was round the lock of the gun?" said Joey. "Yes, I think it will," replied the courier. The courier made fast the cloth to the end of the twine, and throwing it clear of the carriage, let the ball run out, until he had little more than the bare end in his hand, and the cloth was about forty yards behind the carriage, dragging over the snow. "They will not pass the cloth, sir," said the courier; "they think that it's a trap." Sure enough the wolves, which had been gaining fast on the carriage, now retreated again; and although they continued the pursuit, it was at a great distance. "We have an hour and a half more to go before we arrive, and it will be dark, I'm afraid," said the courier; "all depends upon the horse holding out; I'm sure the pack is not far behind." "And how many are there in a pack?" inquired McShane. The courier shrugged up his shoulders. "Perhaps two or three hundred." "Oh! the devil! Don't I wish I was at home with Mrs McShane." For half an hour they continued their rapid pace, when the horse referred to showed symptoms of weakness. Still the wolves had not advanced beyond the piece of black cloth which trailed behind the carriage. "I think that, considering that they are so hungry, they are amazing shy of the bait," said McShane. "By all the powers, they've stopped again!" "The string has broke, sir, and they are examining the cloth," cried Joey. "Is there much line left?" inquired the courier, with some alarm. "No, it has broken off by rubbing against the edge of the carriage behind." The courier spoke to the driver, who now rose from his seat and lashed his horses furiously; but although three of the horses were still fresh, the fourth could not keep up with them, and there was every prospect of his being dragged down on his knees, as more than once he stumbled and nearly fell. In the meantime the wolves had left the piece of cloth behind them, and were coming up fast with the carriage. "We must fire on them now, sir," said the courier, going back to his seat, "or they will tear the flanks of the horses." McShane and Joey seized their guns, the headmost wolf was now nearly ahead of the carriage; Joey fired, and the animal rolled over in the snow. "That's a good shot, Joey; load again; here's at another." McShane fired, and missed the animal, which rushed forward; the courier's pistol, however, brought it down, just as he was springing on the hindmost horses. O'Donahue, astonished at the firing, now lowered down the glass, and inquired the reason. McShane replied, that the wolves were on them, and that he'd better load his pistols in case they were required. The wolves hung back a little upon the second one falling, but still continued the chase, although at a more respectable distance. The road was now on a descent, but the sick horse could hardly hold on his legs.