an evil star.

"There's the call to dinner," remarked Miles Calhoun, as a bell began
ringing in the tower outside. "Come with me, Mr. Mallow, and I'll show
you your room. You've had your horse put up, I hope?"

"Yes, and my bag brought in."

"Well, come along, then. There's no time to lose. I can smell the porker
crawling from the oven."

"You're a master of tempting thoughts," remarked Mallow
enthusiastically.

"Sheila--Sheila!" said Dyck Calhoun to himself where he stood.

CHAPTER III. THE QUARREL.

The journey to Dublin was made by the Calhouns, their two guests, and
Michael Clones, without incident of note. Arrived there, Miles Calhoun
gave himself to examination by Government officials and to assisting
the designs of the Peep-o'-Day Boys; and indeed he was present at the
formation of the first Orange Lodge.

His narrow nature, his petty craft and malevolence, were useful in a
time of anxiety for the State. Yet he had not enough ability to develop
his position by the chances offered him. He had not a touch of genius;
he had only bursts of Celtic passion, which he had not mind enough to
control.

Indeed, as days, weeks and months went on, his position became less
valuable to himself, and his financial affairs suffered from his own and
his agent's bad management. In his particular district he was a power;
in Dublin he soon showed the weaker side of his nature. He had a bad
habit of making foes where he could easily have made friends. In his
personal habits he was sober, but erratic.

Dyck had not his father's abstention from the luxuries of life. He
drank, he gamed, he went where temptation was, and fell into it. He
steadily diminished his powers of resistance to self-indulgence until
one day, at a tavern, he met a man who made a great impression upon him.

This man was brilliant, ebullient, full of humour, character and life,
knowing apparently all the lower world of Dublin, and moving with an
assured step. It was Erris Boyne, the divorced husband of Mrs. Llyn and
the father of Sheila Llyn; but this fact was not known to Dyck. There
was also a chance of its not becoming known, because so many years had
passed since Erris Boyne was divorced.

One day Erris Boyne said to Dyck:

"There's a supper to-night at the Breakneck Club. Come along and have a
skinful. You'll meet people worth knowing. They're a damned fine lot of
fellows for you to meet, Calhoun!"

"The Breakneck Club isn't a good name fo