Part 50 (1/2)

With these words ”His Majesty” succeeded in extricating himself from the clutches of Mrs. Russell, and, holding aloft the torch, began to walk about the room, looking closely everywhere, while Mrs. Russell followed at his heels, entreating him to take care of his royal person.

”Arrah, shure, now,” said ”His Majesty,” ”we're accustomed to danger.

We don't moind throifles like this--not a bit av it:

”'For divil a bit av me cares, I'm randy to tackle the foe; If alive, let him fight if he dares, If he's dead, to the dogs let him go.'”

By this time the noise and the flaming torches had seemed to rouse up Katie and Dolores. Both of these now stood up, blinking and shrinking, clinging timidly to one another, and looking like two frightened children just awakened. They seemed so surprised, so confused, and so terrified, that the heart of ”His Majesty” swelled with pity and compa.s.sion.

”Ladies! jools!” said he, ”don't, don't give way. Shure it's all over now, so it is, an' yez needn't be a bit afraid any more.”

”What's all over?” asked Katie, in a tone of alarm.

”What? Why--shure nothin'.”

”There was some one in the room,” said Mrs. Russell, in frightened tones.

”Some one in the room!” cried Katie, in a voice so full of terror that it became a positive shriek. ”Oh! oh! oh! Who? who? What? what?”

Never was terror more eloquently depicted on any human face than on Katie's expressive countenance on this occasion. She flung herself into Dolores's arms and clung to her. Dolores said nothing, but clung to Katie in silence.

”Alarrums av this sort,” said ”His Majesty,” ”isn't shuited to their delicate, narvous systems--so they isn't. I've got a dhrop av whiskey about me, if--But I suppose they wouldn't care for it.”

With these words ”His Majesty” approached Katie for the purpose of soothing her, or of paying her some delicate compliment, but Katie contrived to keep Dolores between herself and the royal wooer till the R. W. felt baffled.

”Shure it's very disthressin', so it is,” said he, as he turned away.

”But I'll take a luk round.”

He looked all around, walked by the walls, gravely peered into the fireplace, and at length came back.

”There's no one here,” said he.

”But I saw some one,” said Mrs. Russell.

”Shure, thin, it was no livin' man ye saw, an' there ye have it.”

”No living man!” screamed Mrs. Russell.

”Shure no; how could it have been? Wouldn't I a seen him, an' me wid a loight?”

”Then it's a ghost!” said Mrs. Russell, with another scream.

”Divil a one else,” said ”His Majesty.” ”It's the castle ghost--only I don't see why he came in modern coschume. But perhaps it isn't the castle ghost. It may be the last prisoner that was shot.”

This last suggestion was unspeakably horrible to Mrs. Russell. Well she knew who that _last prisoner_ was! The _last prisoner_! Oh, horror! and the apparition was _It_! And _It_ had come to her!--embraced her!--spoke words of love! It was _He_!--her once loved but now lost Johnny!

The thought was too much. With a wild yell, she flung her arms around ”His Majesty” and fainted.

”It's mesilf,” said ”His Majesty,” placidly, ”that 'ud be the proud man to shtay here an' watch wid yez agin the ghost, but juty calls me elsewhere.” As he said this, he tried to detach the arms of Mrs.