bounding forward like a courser in the race; the ship, which had furled its sails in expectation of the combat, was in an instant left far behind; the other vessels from Waterford were still further to the west, towards Cork.
All these manœuvres were mysteries to the landsmen: they gladly hailed the distance placed between them and a superior enemy; but as with a freshening gale the Adalid still held her swift course towards the east, and the land began to sink on the horizon, O'Water asked with some eagerness whither they were bound.
"To safety," De Faro replied, laconically.
"An idle answer," said Edmund; "we must judge where our safety lies?"
"I have ever found best safety on the wide ocean sea," cried the mariner, looking round proudly on his beloved clement. "Your safeties and your lords are, methinks, English born; if this wind hold, on the third morning we shall see the coast of Cornwall."
The mayor was aghast, exclaiming—"Cornwall! England! we are betrayed?"
De Faro looked on him with contempt:—"I do not command here," he continued, "I obey the prince of England; let him decide. Shall we engage superior force; be boarded; taken by the enemy: or land, be wrecked, perchance, upon this savage coast; alive with vengeful kerns—defeated men among a victorious angry people? Or go where we are called by your leader's cause, where thousands of men are up in arms to receive you like brothers, to fight for you, with you; where England, the long-desired kingdom, makes you welcome to her green, sunny shores? Ask ye your prince this question; let his word be law."
This statement, upheld by York, brought conviction to the minds of Plantagenet and O'Water. The latter was aware of the risk he ran from the awakened vengeance of Henry, to pursue his having fostered rebellion in the city of which he was magistrate; and a moment's reflection showed him that there was no security for him, except in flight from Ireland. Meanwhile the wind, increasing in its strength, and right astern, carried them over the foaming waters. The early dawn showed them far at sea: they had outrun or baffled their pursuers; and though, now and then, with anxious thought, they reflected on the comrades left behind, on the poor equipage, and diminished numbers with which they were about to land in England, still there was something so miraculous in their escape, so unforeseen in the destiny that cut them off, and
