ubject. But there was no one with him at Ennis having such weight
of fears or authority as might have served to help to rescue him. During
this time Lady Mary Quin still made her reports, and his aunt's letters
were full of cautions and entreaties. "I am told," said the Countess, in
one of her now detested epistles, "that the young woman has a reprobate
father who has escaped from the galleys. Oh, Fred, do not break our
hearts." He had almost forgotten the Captain when he received this
further rumour which had circulated to him round by Castle Quin and
Scroope Manor.

It was all going from bad to worse. He was allowed by the mother to be
at the cottage as much as he pleased, and the girl was allowed to wander
with him when she would among the cliffs. It was so, although Father
Marty himself had more than once cautioned Mrs. O'Hara that she was
imprudent. "What can I do?" she said. "Have not you yourself taught me
to believe that he is true?"

"Just spake a word to Miss Kate herself."

"What can I say to her now? She regards him as her husband before God."

"But he is not her husband in any way that would prevent his taking
another wife an' he plases. And, believe me, Misthress O'Hara, them sort
of young men like a girl a dale better when there's a little 'Stand off'
about her."

"It is too late to bid her to be indifferent to him now, Father Marty."

"I am not saying that Miss Kate is to lose her lover. I hope I'll have
the binding of 'em together myself, and I'll go bail I'll do it fast
enough. In the meanwhile let her keep herself to herself a little more."

The advice was very good, but Mrs. O'Hara knew not how to make use of
it. She could tell the young man that she would have his heart's blood
if he deceived them, and she could look at him as though she meant to be
as good as her word. She had courage enough for any great emergency. But
now that the lover had been made free of the cottage she knew not how to
debar him. She could not break her Kate's heart by expressing doubts to
her. And were he to be told to stay away, would he not be lost to them
for ever? Of course he could desert them if he would, and then they must
die.

It was going from bad to worse certainly; and not the less so because
he was more than ever infatuated about the girl. When he had calculated
whether it might be possible to desert her he had been at Scroope. He
was in County Clare now, and he did not hesitate to tell himself that
it