, Melchior, and then I may talk
over the matter."

"I will answer the last question first. He knew your name from me, and
it so happened, that a friend of his met you in the coach as you were
coming to Ireland: the same person also saw you at the post-house, and
gave information. Sir Henry, who is a violent man, and here has almost
regal sway, determined to detain you till you surrendered up the child.
You recollect, that you refused to tell his agent, the person whose
address I gave you, where she was to be found, and, vexed at this, he
has taken the law into his own hands."

"For which he shall smart, one of these days," replied I, "if there is
law in this country."

"There is a law in England, but very little, and none that will harm
Sir Henry in this part of the country. No officer would venture within
five miles of the castle, I can assure you; for he knows very well that
it would cost him his life; and Sir Henry never quits it from one year's
end to the other. You are in his power, and all that he requires is
information where the child may be found, and an order for her being
delivered to him. You cannot object to this, as he is her nearest
relative. If you comply, I do not doubt but Sir Henry will make you
full amends for this harsh treatment, and prove a sincere friend ever
afterwards."

"It requires consideration," replied I; "at present, I am too much
hurt to talk."

"I was afraid so," replied Melchior, "that was one reason why I obtained
leave to speak to you. Wait a moment."

Melchior then put the candle down on the ground, and went out, and
turned the key. I found, on looking round, that I was right in my
conjectures. I was in a cellar, which, apparently, had long been in
disuse. Melchior soon returned, followed by an old crone, who carried
a basket and a can of water. She washed the blood off my head, put some
alve upon the wounds, and bound them up. She then went away, leaving
the basket.

"There is something to eat and drink in that basket," observed Melchior;
"but I think, Japhet, you will agree with me, that it will be better to
yield to the wishes of Sir Henry, and not remain in this horrid hole."

"Very true, Melchior," replied I; "but allow me to ask you a question or
two. How came you here? where is Nattee, and how is it, that after
leaving the camp, I find you so reduced in circumstances, as to be
serving such a man as Sir Henry De Clare?"

"A few words will explain that," replied he.