onsciously, Cashel had
fallen, was not lost on the keen perception of Linton, and he was not
sorry to feign a pretext for closing an interview whose continuance
might be unpleasant.

"I was thinking of a hurried trip down to Tubbermore," said he, rising;
"we shall have these guests of yours in open rebellion, if we don't
affect at least something like preparation for their reception. I'll
take Perystell along with me, and we'll see what can be done to get the
old house in trim."

"Thanks," said Cashel, as he walked up and down, his thoughts seeming
engaged on some other theme.

"I 'll write to you a report of the actual condition of the fortress,"
said Linton, assuming all his habitual easy freedom of manner, "and
then, if you think of anything to suggest, you'll let me hear."

"Yes, I 'll write," said Cashel, still musing on his own thoughts.

"I see pretty plainly," cried Linton, laughing, "there's no earthly use
in asking you questions just now, your brain being otherwise occupied,
and so, good-bye."

"Good-bye--good-bye," said Cashel, endeavoring, but not with a very good
grace to shake off his pre-occupation while he shook hands with him; and
Linton descended the stairs, humming an opera air, with all the seeming
light-heartedness of a very careless nature.

Cashel, meanwhile, sat down, and, with his head resting on his hand,
pondered over their late interview. There were two circumstances which
both puzzled and distressed him. How came it that Linton should have
written this note to Kennyfeck on a subject which only seemed to
have actually suggested itself in the course of this their very last
conversation? Had he already planned the whole campaign respecting the
seat in Parliament and the qualification, and was his apparently chance
allusion to those topics a thing studied and devised beforehand? This,
if true, would argue very ill for his friend's candor and fair dealing;
and yet, how explain it otherwise? Was there any other seat open to him
for which to need a qualification? If so, he had never spoken of it. It
was the first time in his life that Cashel had conceived a suspicion of
one whom he had regarded in the light of friend, and only they who have
undergone a similar trial can understand the poignant suffering of the
feeling; and yet, palpable as the cause of such a doubt was, he
had never entertained it had not Linton spoken disparagingly of the
Kennyfecks! This is a curious trait of human nature