LAST DAY'S SHOOTING. 289 



the morning to the lakes, had now returned without 

 being able to give any tidings of old Antony, from whom 

 it appeared that he had separated several hours before. 

 " Get lights instantly," exclaimed my cousin. 

 " Away, all of you ! disperse right and left across the 

 bogs. Come Frank, on with the brogues. I fear our 

 poor otter-killer is but ' a lost priest.' No, Colonel, 

 your services would be useless " for the commander, 

 forgetting gout and rheumatism, and alive only to the 

 danger of his ancient associate, had prepared to accom- 

 pany the party. 



In a few minutes every effective member of our 

 body-politic was in motion. The scene was uncommon 

 and picturesque. It being pitch dark as the respective 

 parties dispersed across the moor upon their different 

 routes to the mountain lakes, the stream of torch-light 

 falling upon the figures, as they were revealed and hidden 

 by the inequalities of the ground they traversed, was 

 really imposing. Their wild shouts died gradually 

 as the distance increased ; and presently nothing was 

 heard by our party but the rushing of the stream and the 

 moaning of the blast. 



Obedient to Hennessey's advice, we followed the river 

 path, as the likeliest one which the otter-killer would 

 select in his unfortunate attempt to return to the cabin. 

 On either side of the moorland the peasants were 

 extended, and occasionally we caught a glimpse of their 

 fading lights, as they glanced and disappeared among 

 the hillocks. Our own path was so rough and difficult 

 that the torch could not secure us from many and severe 

 falls ; and from the extreme darkness of the night, it 

 was too evident that Antony could never make good 

 his way. We almost despaired of being enabled to 



V 



