best I can offer. But such as it is, it is offered with a free
heart, though you are going to leave me to be murdered by the scoundrels
whenever they like to come."

"You will laugh at your fears to-morrow," Durham said as he drew up to
the table.

"They are not fears, Mr. Durham. You don't know; you're not Irish, and
so don't understand, but Brennan would. It's not fear. It's what we term
presentiment. Not all the Irish have it, but only some of them. It's my
misfortune to be one of them. I have it. Sure I was tortured the whole
of last night, what with anxiety and sleeplessness and worry, and all
through that wretched bank affair. It was presentiment. I tried to laugh
myself out of it, but as soon as I got into the township this very
morning, what did I hear? Of course, you know. Well, now I have just the
same feeling that to-night there's to be more dirty work by those
thieving scoundrels, and it's here they're coming this time, here--and
I'm to be left to their mercy, just one poor weak, defenceless woman and
an old half-witted fool of a man. It makes me just----"

She left her sentence uncompleted as she turned away, with a break in
her voice, and stood by the open window leading out on to the verandah.
As Durham glanced at her he saw her shoulders heave and her hands
convulsively clasp.

Through the chill of her forgetfulness the love impulse surged.

"If you are really so distressed about the matter," he said quickly, "if
you really fear you will be attacked to-night, I will stay here till the
morning."

With a magnificent gesture she faced round from the window and came
swiftly towards him, her eyes sparkling, her lips wreathed in a happy
smile.

"Oh, what a weight of care you have taken from my mind!" she cried. "I
can rest now in peace and comfort without thinking that every moment may
be my last on earth."

"But if they come they may kill me. What then?" Durham asked, with a
smile which had more than amusement in it.

She flashed her brilliant glance at him, raising her eyes quickly to his
and drooping them slowly behind the shelter of the dark, heavy lashes.

"No," she said softly. "You are too brave a man--they will not dare to
come while you are here."

"And so your presentiment passes into thin air?" he said.

"It's relieved," she said. "Maybe I'm too timid--that affair has upset
me so much. Now tell me, do you really think you know who the thieves
are?"

She sat down at the table opposit