Miss Folliard, you must, as you know me to be your father's friend, consider that I feel it my duty to restore you to him." "I am not without means of defence," replied Reilly, "but the exercise of such means would be useless.

Two of your lives I might take; but yours, Mr.Sheriff, could not be one of them, and that you must feel." "I feel, Mr.Reilly, that you are a man of honor; and, in point of fact, there is ample apology for your conduct in the exquisite beauty of the young lady who accompanies you; but I must also feel for her father, whose bereavement, occasioned by her loss, would most assuredly break his heart." Here a deep panting of the bosom, accompanied by violent sobs, was heard by the party, and _Cooleen Bawn_ whispered to Reilly, in a voice nearly stifled by grief and excitement: "Dear Reilly, I love you; but it was madness in us to take this step; let me return to my father--only let me see him safe ?" "But Whitecraft ?" "Death sooner.

Reilly, I am ill, I am ill; this struggle is too much for me.

What shall I do?
My head is swimming." [Illustration: PAGE 140--discharged a pistol at our hero] She had scarcely uttered these words when her father, accompanied by his servants, dashed rapidly up, and Cummiskey, the old huntsman, instantly seized Reilly, exclaiming, "Mr.Reilly, we have you now;" and whilst he spoke, his impetuous old master dashed his horse to one side, and discharged a pistol at our hero, and this failing, he discharged another.

Thanks to Lanigan, however, they were both harmless, that worthy man having forgotten to put in bullets, or even as much powder as would singe an ordinary whisker.
"Forbear, sir," exclaimed the sheriff, addressing Cummiskey; "unhand Mr.
Reilly.