ven!" he exclaimed, "what is this? what villanous calumny
has gone abroad?"

Here Dandy saw clearly that his master was in distress, and generously
resolved to step in to his assistance.

"Paudeen," said he, "you know nothing about this business, my hurler.
You're a day before the fair. They're not married yet--but it's as
good--so hould your prate about it till the knot's tied--then trumpet it
through the town if you like."

The stranger felt that to enter into an altercation with two such
persons would be perfect madness, and only make what now appeared to be
already too bad, much worse. He therefore said, very calmly,

"Pat, I assure you, that my journey to Dublin had nothing whatsoever to
do with Miss Gourlay's. The whole matter was accidental. I know nothing
about her; and if any unfortunate reports have gone abroad they are
unfounded, and do equal injustice to that lady and to me."

"Divil a thing else, now, Paudeen," said Dandy, with a face full of
most villanous mystery--that had runaway and elopement in every line
of it--and a tone of voice that would have shamed a couple-beggar--"bad
scran to the ha'p'orth happened. So don't be puttin' bad constructions
on things too soon. However, there's a good time comin', plaise God--so
now, Paudeen, behave yourself, can't you, and don't be vexin' the
masther."

"Pat," said the stranger, feeling that the best way to put an end to
this most painful conversation was to start a fresh topic, "will you
send for Fenton, and say I wish to see him?"

"Fenton, sir!--why, poor Mr. Fenton has been missed out of the town and
neighborhood ever since the night you and Miss Gour--I beg pardon--"

"Upon my soul, Paudeen," said Dandy, "I'll knock you down if you say
that agin now, afther what the masther an' I said to you. Hang it, can't
you have discretion, and keep your tongue widin your teeth, on this
business at any rate?"

"Is not Fenton in town?" asked the stranger.

"No, sir; he has neither been seen nor heard of since that night, and
the people's beginin' to wonder what has become of him."

Here was a disappointment; just at the moment when he had determined, by
seizing upon Fenton, with a view to claim him as the son of the late
Sir Edward Gourlay, and the legitimate heir of Red Hall, in order, if it
were legally possible, to bring about an investigation into the justice
of those claims, it turned out that, as if in anticipation of his
designs, the young man either vo