Part 14 (1/2)

”Uncle Ulick!” she answered, looking fixedly at him, ”I know where you get that from! I know who has been talking to you, and who”--her voice trembled with anger--”has upset the house! It's meet that one who has left the faith of his fathers, and turned his back on his country in her trouble--it is well that he should try to make others act as he has acted, and be false as he has been false! Caring for nothing himself, cold, and heartless----”

He was about to interrupt her, but on the word the door opened and her brother and Asgill entered, shaking the moisture from their coats. It had begun to rain as they returned along the edge of the lake. She dashed the tears from her eyes and was silent.

”Sure, and you've got a fine colour, my girl,” The McMurrough said.

”Any news of the mare?” he continued, as he took the middle of the hearth and spread his skirts to the blaze, Asgill remaining in the background. Then, as she shook her head despondently--the presence of Asgill had driven her into herself--”Bet you a hundred crowns to one, Asgill,” he said, with a grin, ”cousin Sullivan don't recover her!”

”I couldn't afford to take it,” Asgill answered, smiling. ”But if Miss Flavia had chosen me for her amba.s.sador in place of him that's gone----”

”She might have had a better, and couldn't have had a worse!” James said, with a loud laugh. ”It's supper-time,” he continued, after he had turned to the fire, and kicked the turfs together, ”and late, too!

Where's Darby? There's never anything but waiting in this house. I suppose you are not waiting for the mare? If you are, it's empty insides we'll all be having for a week of weeks.”

”I'm much afraid of that,” Uncle Ulick answered, as the girl rose.

Uncle Ulick could never do anything but fall in with the prevailing humour.

Flavia paused half-way across the floor and listened. ”What's that?”

she asked, raising her hand for silence. ”Didn't you hear something? I thought I heard a horse.”

”You didn't hear a mare,” her brother retorted, grinning. ”In the meantime, miss, I'd be having you know we're hungry. And----”

He stopped, startled by a knock on the door. The girl hesitated, then she stepped to it, and threw it wide. Confronting her across the threshold, looking ghostly against the dark background of the night, a grey horse threw up its head and, dazzled by the light, started back a pace--then blithered gently. In a twinkling, before the men had grasped the truth, Flavia had sprung across the threshold, her arms were round her favourite's neck, she was covering its soft muzzle with kisses.

”The saints defend us!” Uncle Ulick cried. ”It is the mare!”

In his surprise The McMurrough forgot himself, his role, the company.

”D--n!” he said. Fortunately Uncle Ulick was engrossed in the scene at the door, and the girl was outside. Neither heard.

Asgill's mortification, as may be believed, was a hundred times deeper.

But his quicker brain had taken in the thing and its consequences on the instant. And he stood silent.

”She's found her way back!” The McMurrough exclaimed, recovering himself.

”Ay, lad, that must be it,” Uncle Ulick replied. ”She's got loose and found her way back to her stable, heaven be her bed! And them that took her are worse by the loss of five pounds!”

”Broken necks to them!” The McMurrough cried viciously.

But at that moment the door, which led to the back of the house and the offices, opened, and Colonel John stepped in, a smile on his face. He laid his damp cloak on a bench, hung up his hat and whip, and nodded to Ulick.

”The Lord save us! is it you've brought her back?” the big man exclaimed.

The Colonel nodded. ”I thought”--he looked towards the open door--”it would please her to find the creature so!”

The McMurrough stood speechless with mortification. It was Asgill who stepped forward and spoke. ”I give you joy, Colonel Sullivan,” he said.

”It is small chance I thought you had.”

”I can believe you,” the Colonel answered quietly. If he did not know much he suspected a good deal.

Before more could be said Flavia McMurrough turned herself about and came in and saw Colonel Sullivan. Her face flamed hotly, as the words which she had just used about him recurred to her; she could almost have wished the mare away again, if the obligation went with her. To owe the mare to him! Yes, she would have preferred to lose the mare!

But the thing was done, and she found words at last; but cold words. ”I am very much obliged to you,” she said, ”if it was really you who brought her back.”