It was not likely I should be allowed to remain at large; and when caught next time, I might promise myself no such good luck as had befallen me to-night.
So I lay low till the road was clear, and then struck north for Fanad, where I knew nooks and crannies enough to keep me hid, if need be, for a month to come.
For a week I lodged uncomfortably enough in one of the deep caves that pierce the coast, which at high tide was unapproachable except by swimming, and at low so piled up with sea-weed at its mouth as to seem only a mere hole in the cliff.

Here, on a broad ledge high beyond reach of the tide, I spent the weary hours, living for the most part on sea- weed, or a chance crab or lobster, cooked at a fire of bracken or hay, collected at peril of my life in the upper world.
Once as I peeped out I saw a boat cruising along the shore, and discovered in one of its crew no other than he who had acted as leader of the gathering of a week ago.

So near did they come that I could even hear their voices.
"You're wastin' your time, captain, over a spalpeen like that.

Sure, if he's alive he's far enough away by this time." The leader turned to the speaker and said,-- "If I could but catch him he would not travel far again.

Was there no news of him at Knockowen ?" "'Deed no; only lamenting from the ladies when his empty boat came ashore." Then they passed out of hearing, never even looking my way.