This would bring me close under Kilgorman rock, whence I could drive before the wind as far as Knockowen.
To my surprise, as I closed in on the shore I saw strange lights at the water's edge, and casting my eyes up towards Kilgorman (which I never did in those days without a qualm, because of the ghost that haunted it) I seemed to see a moving light there also.
I said a hurried prayer, and put round my helm into the wind before my time.

Even the shoal, thought I, was less to fear than the unearthly terrors of that awful deserted house.
By good luck the strong wind carried me in clear of the bank and so into fairly still water, and in half-an-hour more I was in under the light of Knockowen, mooring my boat in his honour's little harbour.
It must have been near midnight, and I was wondering how I should waken the house and deliver my message, when a voice close beside me said,-- "Are the guns all landed and taken up to the house ?" It was his honour's voice.

But I could not see him in the dark.
"I beg your pardon, your honour," said I, "it's me, Barry Gallagher." A quick step came down to where I stood, and a hand was laid on my shoulder.
"You! What do you here ?" said his honour sharply, for he had evidently expected some one else.
"If you please, sir, my mother's sick, and she sent me to bid you come before she died." He made a startled gesture, as I thought, and said, "What does she want me for ?" "It's to tell your honour something.

I couldn't rightly say what, for she spoke strangely." "I'll come in the morning if the weather mends," said he.
"I've the boat here for you, sir," I ventured to say, for I guessed the morning would be too late.
"Leave her there, and go up to the house.

You may sleep in the kitchen." What could I do?
For the first time that night I knew for certain I hated his honour.