and away with Rainbow. I brought him up again nearer than before. Again the chains clanked, and I could distinctly hear that they were chains, ere my horse bolted and ran again. ‘The third time,’ said I, ‘contains a charm, they say; and, man or devil, ghost or fairy, I’ll overhaul you. Who’s there?’ No answer. ‘Who’s there?’ Clank, clank, went the chains. I could see nothing. The perspiration was running down my face, but I was furious. ‘By the hand of my grandfather, if you do not answer me, I’ll go to you, and whilst sinew and whalebone last, you shall feel the butt of a loaded whip. Who are you?’ Again the chains clanked, and my horse would not consent to keep such company any longer. I dismounted, and, taking him a few paces back, tied him to a tree, and returned on foot to the spot.

Behind the trees was a deep trench partly filled with water; a hawthorn hedge grew at the farther side, and threw its branches nearly across. As I approached the ‘laght,’ the rattling of the chains again rose, accompanied by a plashing, scrambling noise, as of something breaking through the hedge and trench. I sprang forward, striking with the heavy handle of my whip, having twisted the thong firmly round my hand and wrist, I had only beaten air, but the violence of the blow and weight of the whip carried me forward; and, missing my footing in the darkness, I fell against, or rather upon, the monster of the chains; and having made a furious grasp to save myself, judge what was my horror at catching a handful of hair, such as might be expected to be felt upon an arctic bear! The creature slipped from me, and with a tremendous plunge and frightful rattling of its chains, gained the road, overwhelming me completely in the muddy ditch.

Just at that instant the whole truth flashed across my mind; and with a vengeful rage that I am ashamed to confess, I sprang up, and pursuing my unfortunate victim, a jackass, who could make but little exertion to escape, being spancelled with a piece of an iron chain, I kept my oath, by belabouring poor Neddy until I could strike no more from exhaustion. I then turned to remount my horse; but he was gone, having left the principal portion of his bridle hanging on the bough for a keepsake. Nothing saved Neddy from a second edition, with considerable additions, but the recollection of the hour, the necessity of catching my horse, and the confounded distance I should have to travel afterwards, for he was, of course, gone the wrong way.

I ran as fast as I could, but was soon obliged to pull up. I found that I was carrying weight, and no light weight, for my clothes were saturated with water, and covered thickly with mud. Having scraped off as much as I could of the latter, I got along, and about two o’clock reached my friend’s house again, entertaining a faint hope that Rainbow had returned to the last stall he had occupied; and so he had.

Not finding the gate open, he had jumped the road fence, and was quietly grazing with two or three other horses. There was now light enough to distinguish objects at a hundred yards; and I could see his saddle, but how to catch him was now the question, for he had at all times a propensity to keep his liberty when he had got it; and to think of catching him without help was idle. I approached the house, but just then recollected that my friend had a couple of dangerous mastiff dogs, of extraordinary size and ferocity; and as the entrance to the front of the house lay through the farm-yard, in which they were kept, it would be as much as my life was worth to approach it. My only chance was to get at the rere; and having made the circuit of a few fields, I reached it, and, selecting a window likely to belong to some sleeping apartment on the ground floor, I tapped at it with the butt of my whip. Receiving no answer, I repeated the knock, and placing my head close, heard a female voice exclaim, ‘Marcy save us, it’s the boys;’ and the speaker hurried barefooted from the room. I knew that the only female inmate of the house was the daughter of an old follower of the family, now called ‘the servant man;’ for Pat or Paddy fulfilled the manifold duties of butler, footman, gardener, and valet, besides taking a hand at every thing about the farm in turn.

Whilst considering whether or not I should knock again, I had the satisfaction to see, by the still increasing light, that the shutter of an upper window was cautiously opened; then the window was gently raised; and I waited for the appearance of a head to announce myself, when a bright flash issued forth, accompanied by a tremendous report. Away went my hat; and at the same instant the dogs opened, not barking, but with yells upon yells, as if Pandemonium was let loose. ‘Ahern! Ahern!’ I roared out, ‘what are you at? ’Tis I—don’t you know me?—M—— My horse has run away; he’s in your field, and I want help to catch him.’ I bellowed this at the top of my voice, in the vain endeavour to drown the ‘bow-wow-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo’ of the dogs. The answer I received was, ‘You to (hiccup) blazes (hiccup); here’s at you again, you villains.’ I threw myself down as my quondam kind host discharged a second blunderbuss at me; but was instantly on my legs again, as the roaring of the dogs announced their rapid approach. They had in some manner got out of the yard. I glanced hurriedly round for some place of shelter. A large arbutus tree was the nearest object, and into it I scrambled, just as the dogs appeared in full career upon the field.

They made repeated springs at me, for I was not above eight feet from the ground, but I contrived, by well-aimed kicks in the jaws, to keep them at bay for a while. I was thus pleasantly engaged for about five minutes, when Ahern and four or five men made their appearance. He carried a blunderbuss in his hand, another tucked under his arm, and a brace of holster pistols stuck in his waistband. His old servant had the master’s fowling-piece, and the rest, who were farm servants, had pitchforks.

As soon as I espied them, I roared out, ‘Call off the dogs, I’m M——, you stupid drunken rascal.’ ‘Ho! ho! he’s—hic—up in the arbutus.’ ‘Blur-an-agers, tare-an-taffy, sir, you’ll shoot the dogs!’ said old Paddy, knocking up the levelled blunderbuss. ‘It’s Mr M——; don’t ye know his voice? Down, Fin—down, Oscar—down with ye,’ and with persuasive words, and still more persuasive blows of the fowling-piece, Pat drew off the dogs, and took them away. I came down in a state of indescribable rage. Nothing vexes a man so much as the consciousness of being an object of mirth or ridicule.

Having paused awhile for words, I poured forth a torrent of abuse on Ahern. He hiccupped once or twice, looked with the most stupid astonishment at me, and, when I paused for breath, ‘damned me but it would have been due to me to be shot; firstly, for leaving a Christian habitation at the dead hour of the night; secondly, for going at that hour by a haunted road; and, thirdly, for attempting to get in at a back window of his house, when I well knew that I had only to raise the latch, and walk in at the front door.’

‘How the d—— could I get past your infernal dogs?’ said I.

‘Good dogs always know friends from foes,’ he replied; ‘but—hic—it was just one of your tricks—you wanted to frighten me, and—ha! ha! ha!—you got frightened yourself, and the devil’s cure to you!—hic.’ I was beginning again, when he stopped me by saying, ‘that if I thought he had taken any advantage of me, matters could be made even;’ and he produced the holster pistols, saying ‘that they were both double loaded; he had charged them himself, and I might have my choice.’ In a minute the ground was measured; the men were ordered not to interfere, but stand aside; and Ahem himself asked me if I was ready, and immediately said ‘fire!’

Well might he say ‘the pistols were double charged;’ they were trebly charged—loaded to the muzzles. In fact, it was safer to