The night was pitch dark, and on rounding the adjacent corner no vehicle could be seen; but a peculiar whistle from Dick was answered by the sound of approaching wheels and the rapid footfalls of a horse, mingled with the light rattle of a smart gig. On the vehicle coming up, Dick took his little mare, that was blacker than the night, by the head, the apron of the gig was thrown down, and out jumped a smart servant-boy.

"You have the horse ready, too, Billy?"

"Yis, sir," said Billy, touching his hat.

"Then follow, and keep up with me, remember."

"Yis, sir."

"Come to her head, here," and he patted the little mare's neck as he spoke with a caressing "whoa," which was answered by a low neigh of satisfaction, while the impatient pawing of her fore foot showed the animal's desire to start. "What an impatient little devil she is," said Dick, as he mounted the gig; "I'll get in first, Murphy, as I'm going to drive. Now up with you--hook on the apron--that's it--are you all right?"

"Quite," said Murphy.

"Then you be into your saddle and after us, Billy," said Dick; "and now let her go."

Billy gave the little black mare her head, and away she went, at a slapping pace, the fire from the road answering the rapid strokes of her nimble feet. The servant then mounted a horse which was tied to a neighbouring palisade, and had to gallop for it to come up with his master, who was driving with a swiftness almost fearful, considering the darkness of the night and the narrowness of the road he had to traverse, for he was making the best of his course by cross-ways to an adjacent roadside inn, where some non-resident electors were expected to arrive that night by a coach from Dublin; for the county town had every nook and cranny occupied, and this inn was the nearest point where they could get any accommodation.