will be
enough to say simply that I wish to spake to him particularly."

"Very well, Caterine," replied Barney, "I'll tell him so."

In a few minutes Harry joined her on the lawn, where she awaited him,
and the following dialogue took place between them:

"Well, Caterine, Casey tells me that you have something particular to
say to me."

"And very particular indeed, it is, Mr. Harry."

"Well, then, the sooner we have it the better; pray, what is it?"

"I'm afeard, Mr. Woodward, that unless you have some good body's
blessin' about you, your life isn't worth a week's purchase."

"Some good body's blessing!" he replied ironically; "well, never mind
that, but let me know the danger, if danger there be; at all events, I
am well prepared for it."

"The danger then is this--and terrible it is--that born devil,
Shawn-na-Middogue, has got hold of what's goin' on between you and Grace
Davoren."

"Between me and Grace Davoren!" he exclaimed, in a voice of well-feigned
astonishment. "You mean my brother Charles. Why, Caterine, that
soft-hearted and softheaded idiot, for I can call him nothing else, has
made himself a perfect fool about her, and what is worst of all, I am
afraid he will break his engagement with Miss Goodwin, and marry this
wench. Me! why, except that he sent me once or twice to meet her, and
apologize for his not being able to keep his appointment with her, I
know nothing whatsoever of the unfortunate girl, unless that, like a
fool, as she is, it seems to me that she is as fond of him as he, the
fool, on the other hand, is of her. As for my part, I shall deliver his
messages to her no more--and, indeed, it was wrong of me ever to do so."

The moon had now risen, and Caterine, on looking keenly and
incredulously into his face, read nothing there but an expression of
apparent sincerity and sorrow for the indiscretion and folly of his
brother.

"Well," she proceeded, "in spite of all you tell me I say that it does
not make your danger the less. It is not your brother but yourself
that he suspects, and whether right or wrong, it is upon you that his
vengeance will fall."

"Well, but, Caterine," he replied, "could you not see Shawn-na-Middogue,
and remedy that?"

"How, sir?" she replied.

"Why, by telling him the truth," said the far-sighted villain, "that it
is my brother, and not I, that was the intriguer with her."

"Is that generous towards your brother, Mr. Woodward? No, sir; sooner
than bring t