'Twas not at hearing the English speech once more, but because the fellow's voice itself was familiar to me.
And when a moment later its owner came in view, I saw the man I had met once on the road to Oxford, the same Tom Price who had gone near hanging me for a Jesuit, and afterwards had tempted me to take service in the troop of his master, Captain Merriman, for these Irish wars.
Was it much wonder I gasped aloud, as I saw him?
"Tell Turlogh Luinech O'Neill," said Ludar, advancing, "that his daughter is come from England, with her ancient nurse.

And take us to him, that we may deliver our charge safely into his hands." "Ludar," cried I, taking him by the arm.

"Halt, for Heaven's sake! This is one of Captain Merriman's men!" The soldier looked round as I spoke, and recognised me in a trice.
"Hillo!" cried he; "what have we here?
My little Jesuit, Lord Mayor of London, as I'm a sinner! And in what brave company! Sure, they told me my lady expected visitors; and here he is with his sweetheart, and old mother, and private chaplain.

Woe's me, the flag is not aloft! So, lad, thou'rt come to join our wars after all, and tell the captain about that duck-weed?
And thou shalt, my little Humphrey--you see I even remember your name." "One word, Tom Price," said I, breathlessly, "as you are an honest man.
Is the captain here ?" "Here! He is my lady's honoured guest this three weeks, since he arrived here in a temper enough to sour the countryside.

Why, hadst thou run away with his own sweetheart, thou couldst not--" "Is my father, is Turlogh Luinech O'Neill here, then ?" asked the maiden, coming up.
"Thy father!" said the soldier gasping.