differently. But neither explains why he, a supporter
of the usurper, should have sent me out to France to fight against
the English. It is a hard nut to crack."

Mike agreed. "Mighty hard; but your honour will get to the bottom
of it, never fear. And why are we going to the duke, master?"

"To get leave of absence. I cannot disappear suddenly, without
asking for leave. I shall, of course, tell the Duke of Berwick
exactly why I am going, and I feel sure he will grant my request,
without hesitation. There is no fighting to be done, just at
present, and even if there were, one officer more or less would
make no difference.

"Have you any relations in Ireland, Mike?"

"None that I know of, sir, barring a sister, who was twelve years
older than myself; and it is little I saw of her, for she married
when I was a bit of a gossoon. Her husband was killed in the siege
of Limerick, and I heard that after it was over, she went to
settle with some cousins in Cork. Whether she is there now, is
married again, or is dead years ago, is more than I can say,
seeing that I have never heard of her since."

"Was she with her husband in the siege of Limerick?"

"She was that. I heard about her from some men who knew her
husband. They said, after he was killed, she went as a servant in
the family of an officer and his wife for a bit, but the officer
was killed, and the lady died of grief and trouble; and it was
hard work she had to live till the place surrendered. That is all
I know about it, your honour. It might have been true, and it
might not. I was but a boy, and maybe I bothered the man with
questions, and he just told me what came into his head to keep me
quiet."

"Well, at any rate, Mike, as we shall most likely land at Cork,
you might try to find your sister out. If she went through the
siege, she will know the names of many of the officers. She may
have heard of a Kennedy."

"Maybe of half a dozen, your honour. As loyal gentlemen, they
would be sure to be there."

"What was her name, Mike?"

"Sure it was the same as my own before she married, just Norah
Callaghan."

"So I suppose, Mike," Desmond said with a laugh; "but what was the
name of the husband?"

"Rooney. I have not thought of it this many a year, but it is sure
I am that it was Rooney; and now I think of it, a message came to
me from her, just before I left the country, saying that should I
ever be in the neighbourhood, it is glad she would be to see me;