122 THE DEAD HEAT 



another ; and the dirty unwashed yelled as he 

 passed in a tax-cart driven by a friend. 



" Which is the Captain ? " demanded a soldier. 



" Death ! don't you know him ? Musha, why 

 that one forenent ye in the white caubeen and frieze 

 coat. Troth, he's a broth of a boy ! devil a one in 

 Ireland can bate him on Mad Moll across country. 

 Sure he's an illigant rider." 



" Hould yer noise, here comes Squire Gwynne 

 and the ladies in the coach, and the English soldier 

 gentleman wid 'em. Agra ! but he's a mighty fine 

 young man is that same. Bedad, it's Miss Alice 

 that's looking swate on him entirely." 



It was true : there was Charles Fortescue of the 

 Stiffshire Eegiment going to the scene of action 

 in the Squire's waggonette, and sitting beside his 

 affianced bride, the beautiful Alice Gwynne with 

 eight thousand a year the instant she married. 



" Hurroo ! " shouted the people as the carriage 

 dashed past. " Three cheers for the Master of 

 Gwynne ! And another for the lady ! " They were 

 in the humour to shout at everything and every- 

 body. 



The course is reached at last. It is a circular 

 one, and everything has to be jumped twice ; hardly 

 anything is to be seen but dark frowning walls. 

 Many cars and carriages have got down by the 



