But the villagers were too delighted with their day's work to pay much
heed to Walter's warning, and, after a general jollification in honour of
their victory, retired to rest, thoughtless of danger.
It was getting dark when Walter reached the village where he had
determined to stay for the night. He ordered the men to keep the saddles
on their horses, and to hitch them to the doors of the cabins where they
took up their quarters, in readiness for instant movement. He placed one
mounted sentry at the entrance to the village, and another a quarter of a
mile on the road towards Kilcowan.
At nine o'clock, he heard the sound of a horse galloping up to the door,
and ran out. It was the sentry at the end of the village.
"Kilcowan is on fire, sir!"
Walter looked in that direction, and saw a broad glare of light.
"Ride out, and bring in the advanced sentry," he said, "as quick as
possible."
He called the other men out, and bade them mount; that done, they sat,
ready to ride off on the return of their comrades.
"Here they come, sir," one of the men said, "and I fancy the enemy are
after them."
Walter listened intently. He could hear a deep thundering noise, which
was certainly made by the hoofs of more than two horses.
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