"I don't like it, Eamon." Tadhg bit his lower lip and eyed the strong back door of the magistrate's house.

"Of course you don't," Eamon grinned. "You don't like anything since you got married. It's made you too cautious."

"It's good to be cautious," Tadhg retorted. "You're not cautious at all! You trust any maid who throws a smile and a kiss your way."

"Enya said she knew the magistrate would be gone today." Eamon bent down to rub a speck of dirt off his boots. "What better time to rob a house than when it's empty?"

"I can think of a much better time. At night, when everyone is asleep!"

Eamon scoffed. "That would take all the fun out of it, it would." He slipped his arms into the burgundy coat that he had stolen off the laundry line. "How do I look?"

"Dashing. But a bit stuffy." Tadhg put his shoulders back and made a haughty face, pursing his lips and looking down his nose.

Eamon rolled his eyes. "I'm supposed to look stuffy. I'm a butler, not a rake." He stepped out of the bushes and tossed his pistols to Tadhg. "Keep an eye out at this door. I'll be back." Ignoring Tadhg's protests, he walked towards the back door and slipped inside, straightening the collar of the butler's coat.

He took a deep breath and walked boldly into the house, passing a room that he assumed was the kitchen. It was larger than his whole cottage. He continued down the hall and into a large, well-lit room that would have comfortably held the Kavanagh family, the Dolan family, and what remained of the Gallagher family. Eamon whistled and the sound echoed, causing him to cringe.

Eamon suddenly remembered he was here to rob the magistrate, not to gawk at his house. He mounted the stairs, peering into every room he passed. Where is the money? He saw a room at the end of the hall and opened the door. A four-poster bed with red velvet curtains sat against one wall, and against the other rested a large oaken chest.

Eamon grinned and tested the lock on the chest. Of course it would be locked, wouldn't it? He reached into his boot for his knife and twirled it around in the lock. It was some time before he heard the tiny click that told him the lock had opened. He knelt in front of the chest and opened the lid. There's enough here to feed and clothe three families for a year! He took out several bags of money, weighing each one in his hand.

Hooves sounded outside the door. That's a lot of horses, so it is. Eamon went to the window that overlooked the front of the house. His eyes widened. A troop of British soldier sat outside the magistrate's door, and at their head sat a man that Eamon assumed was the magistrate himself. A maid came outside and Eamon frowned. Enya?

The magistrate patted Enya's frilly white cap and pressed something into her hand. She curtseyed and scurried back inside, throwing a glance up at the window where Eamon was standing.

Eamon closed his fist around a bag of money. He ripped the bag open and poured the money into his boots, then went back to the window and saw the soldiers dismounting and heading towards the door. Hurry up, Eamon. He took off the red butler's coat, grabbed an armful of money bags from the chest, and wrapped them up in the coat.

The noise of booted feet came up the stairway. Eamon shoved the window open, leaned out, and dropped the butler's coat to the ground. It thumped heavily on the ground and his stomach churned a bit at the thought of what he was about to do. He swung himself out of the window and onto the face of the wall and began to climb down, his boots clinking each time he placed his foot in a crevice. He rested at the ground window, then jumped to the ground and picked up the bags of money, wiping sweat off his forehead.

Tadhg...Eamon whirled around, wishing he could see through the house and into the yard where his friend was waiting. He'll be fine, he will. He made his way over to the horses and stood, trying to decide which one to borrow. A mischievous grin spread across his face as he walked up to the magistrate's horse and rubbed the horse's nose for a while before he swung into the saddle. Resting the bundle of money on the saddle, he clucked to the horse and started away from the house at a trot.

A shout rang out, followed by a shot. Eamon ducked instinctively, but the ball came nowhere close to hitting him. He glanced over his shoulder to see several soldiers running out the front door, followed by a puffing magistrate. Eamon grinned and slowed the horse down, then turned so that his pursuers could see his profile. He spread his first two fingers in a V and thrust them towards the soldiers. He heard enraged shouts and saw the soldiers raising their muskets. He snickered, thumbed his nose at them, and spurred the magistrate's horse into a gallop and raced out of the gates.

When he thought he had put enough distance between himself and his pursuers, Eamon turned the horse back and snuck onto the magistrate's property through a side gate, giving the house a wide berth. He came to the stand of trees where he had left Tadhg. "Tadhg!" He called quietly, pulling the horse to a stop. "It's me!" He waited breathlessly, a sick feeling blooming in his stomach.

"Eamon?" Tadhg's blond head appeared and he emerged from behind a bush. "I'm glad it's you."

Eamon grinned, his worry melting away. "Come. We have a ride, courtesy of the magistrate." He gestured to the horse.

Tadhg burst out laughing and climbed onto the horse. "You can't just steal his money, can you? You've got to be stealing his horse, too!"

Eamon laughed and kicked his heels into the horse's sides.

***

The next day, Eamon sat in the branches of Fallon's Oak, quill pen in hand. He twirled the feather and let it brush his chin. How to start? No one had taught him how to write a letter before, certainly not a letter to a magistrate. He dipped the pen in the ink well and began to write carefully.

He read the short missive over, squinting at the letters. Well, what's done is done. He blew on the paper and looked down at the magistrate's horse that grazed placidly beside Niamh in the ruins of Fallon's old house.

Eamon climbed down from the tree and swung into Niamh's saddle, then grabbed the reins of the magistrate's horse and led the animal out of Fallon's house. He traveled along the road to Swinford, letting the horses take a leisurely pace.

When he reached the outskirts of the town, he let go of the horse's reins and tucked the message under the horse's saddle. He nudged the horse with his boot and watched as it meandered into the city, then turned and rode back home.

***

The next week, Eamon was out again on the road. There was to be a fair at Tubbercurry and he knew there would be many people on the road between County Mayo and County Sligo. He had some success, but most people traveling to the fair were poorer than he liked to steal from. Eamon swung down from Niamh's back and took her saddle off, throwing it in the grass. He laid back, using the saddle for a pillow.

He woke up some time later. Niamh snorted, looking into the dusk with her ears pricked. Eamon sat up and wondered if he should put the saddle back on. It would take too much time.

He peered into the gathering darkness and saw a figure hurrying along. He grinned and stood up, walking towards the figure.

It was a woman. He called out, "Slainte!" as he neared her. "Where are you bound so late?"

The woman stopped and frowned at him. "It's in a hurry to get home, I am. Captain Achrann might be on the road, and I've no wish to be robbed."

Eamon bit the inside of his mouth to stop grinning. "Robbed?" He asked curiously. "It looks as though you've got nothing Achrann could take."

"Oh, I have," the woman sighed. "I've just been to Tubbercurry to sell my cow...to pay the rent, you know."

Eamon was reminded of how happy Catriona had been when he bought Niamh. He reached into his purse and asked, "How much is your cow worth?"

The woman eyed him suspiciously. "Why...twenty shillings."

Eamon counted out twenty shillings and placed them in the woman's hand. "And how much is your rent?" He asked, ignoring her gasp of surprise.

"Ten shillings." The woman tucked the money into the pocket of her dress. "Why are you doing this?"

Eamon placed the rent money in the woman's hand and smiled. "Go home. Buy a new cow, pay the rent, and tell people that Captain Achrann is not as bad of a rogue as he's made out to be."

The woman went pale. "You're Captain Achrann?" Her hand flew to her pocket as though she expected Eamon to take all the money he had just given her.

"Tá me." Eamon said simply, spreading his hands. "A good evening to you." He bowed and stepped aside to let the woman go on her way. She shook her head slightly as though she couldn't believe what had just happened to her and hurried down the road.

Eamon chuckled and ran back to where Niamh waited. He saddled her again and swung up onto her back. The looks on people's faces when I give them money are worth more than the money itself.