Tom Steeple, however, had haunted him as his shadow, without ever coming in contact with him personally, and on this night he had him set as a soho man has a hare in her form.

Guided, therefore, by the intelligent idiot and Fergus, the party readied the cottage in which the Rapparee resided.

The house was instantly surrounded and the door knocked at, for the party knew that the man was inside.
"Who is there ?" asked the old woman who kept the cottage.
"Open the door instantly," said the sheriff, "or we shall smash it in." "No, I won't," she replied; "no, I won't, you bosthoon, whoever you are.
I never did nothin' agin the laws, bad luck to them, and I won't open my door to any strolling vagabone like you." "Produce the man we want," said the sheriff, "or we shall arrest you for harboring an outlaw and a murderer.

Your house is now surrounded by military, acting under the king's orders." "Give me time," said the crone; "I was at my prayers when you came to disturb me, and I'll finish them before I open the door, if you were to burn the house over my head, and myself in it.

Up," said she to the Rapparee, "through the roof--get that ould table undher your feet--the thatch is thin--slip out and lie on the roof till they go, and then let them whistle jigs to the larks if they like." The habits of escape peculiar to the Rapparees were well known to Fergus, who cautioned those who surrounded the house to watch the roof.
It was well they did so, for in less-time than we have taken to describe it the body of the Rapparee was seen projecting itself upwards through the thin thatch, and in an instant several muskets were levelled at him, accompanied by instant orders to surrender on pain of being shot.