must bethink
ourselves of every issue to this affair: and, should there be any
suspicion attaching to him, he ought to be out of danger,--the danger of
arrest. Where do his principal estates lie?"

"In Wicklow,--immediately around Castle Carew."

"But he has other property?"

"Yes, he has some northern estates; and there is a mine, also, on Lough
Allen belonging to him."

"Well, why not go there?"

"There is no residence; there is nothing beyond the cabins of the
peasantry, or the scarcely more comfortable dwelling of the overseer.
I have it, Crowther," cried he, suddenly, as though, a happy notion had
just struck him; "I have it. You have heard of that shooting-lodge of
mine at the Killeries? It was Carew's property, but has fallen into my
hands; he shall go there. So far as seclusion goes, I defy Ireland to
find its equal. They who have seen it, tell me it is a perfect picture
of landscape beauty. He can shoot and fish and sketch for a week or
so, till we see what turn this affair is like to take. Nothing could be
better; the only difficulty is the distance."

"You tell me that he is ill."

"It is more agitation than actual illness; he was weak and feeble before
this happened, and of course his nerves are terribly shaken by it."

"The next consideration is, how to apprise his wife; at least, what we
ought to tell her if he be incapable of writing."

"I hinted that already as I accompanied him upstairs, and by his manner
it struck me that he did not lay much stress on the matter; he merely
said, 'Oh! she has no curiosity; she never worries herself about what
does not concern her.'"

"A rare quality in a wife, Fagan," said the other, with a smile.

Whether it was the prompting of his own thoughts, or that some real
or fancied emphasis on the word "wife" caught him, but Fagan asked
suddenly, "What did you say?"

"I remarked that it was a rare quality for a wife to possess. You
thought, perhaps, it was rather the gift of those who enjoy the
privilege, and not the name of such."

"Maybe you're right, then, Crowther. Shall I own to you, it was the very
thought that was passing through my own brain!"

"How strange that Rutledge should have hinted the very same suspicion to
myself, the last time we ever spoke together," said Crowther, in a low,
confidential whisper. "We were sitting in my back office; he had come to
show me some bills of money won at play, and ask my advice about them.
Carew was the indorse