“Come in, damn ye,” said the sergeant, impatiently; “what are you afraid for? Is this your man? Halloo, sir!” said he, shaking the corpse by the shoulder. “You must call even louder yet,” said I, while something like the fury of a fiend was working within me. “What!” said the sergeant, snatching up the light and holding it within the bed. He started back in horror as he did so, and called out, “He is dead!” Kelly sprang forward at the word, and seizing the candle, held it down to the face of the corpse; but the flame rose as steadily before those cold lips as though the breath of life had never warmed them. “I 'll get the reward, anyhow, sergeant, won't I?” said the ruffian, while the thirst for gain added fresh expression to his savage features. A look of disgust was the only reply he met with, as the sergeant walked into the outer room, and whispered something to the man of the house. At the same instant the galloping of a horse was heard on the causeway. It came nearer and nearer, and ceased suddenly at the door, as a deep voice shouted out,-- “Well! all right, I hope, sergeant. Is he safe?” A whispered reply, and a low, muttered sound of two or three voices followed, and Barton--the same man I had seen at the fray in Malone's cabin--entered the room. He approached the bed, and drawing back the curtains, rudely gazed on the dead man, while over his shoulder peered the demoniac countenance of the informer Kelly, his savage features working in anxiety lest his gains should have escaped him. Barton's eye ranged the little chamber till it fell on me, as I sat still and motionless against the wall. He started slightly, and then advancing close, fixed his piercing glance upon me. “Ha!” cried he, “you here! Well, that is more than I looked for this morning. I have a short score to settle with you. Sergeant, here 's one prisoner for you, at any rate.” “Yes,” said Kelly, springing forward, “he was at the churchyard with the other; I'll swear to that.” “I think we can do without your valuable aid in this business,” said Barton, smiling maliciously. “Come along, young gentleman; we 'll try and finish the education that has begun so prosperously.” My eyes involuntarily turned to the table where De Meudon's pistols were lying. The utter hopelessness of such a contest deterred me not, I sprang towards them; but as I did so, the strong hand of Barton was on my collar, and with a hoarse laugh, he threw me against the wall, as he called out,-- “Folly, boy! mere folly. You are quite sure of the rope without that. Here, take him off!”