"

With this Linton took his candle and retired.

Cashel, once more alone, began to ponder over the difficulty of his
position. The more he reasoned on the matter, the stronger appeared his
fears that Lady Kilgoff's name would be compromised by a foolish and
unmeaning quarrel; while, for himself, he saw nothing but ridicule and
shame from his compliance. That omnipotent arbiter, "the World," might
indeed be satisfied, but Roland suspected that few of its better-judging
members would hesitate to condemn a course as unfeeling as it was
unwise.

A quick, sharp knocking at the door of his room aroused him from his
musings; it was Lady Kilgoff's maid, breathless and agitated. She came
to say that Lord Kilgoff, after a scene of passionate excitement with
her Ladyship, had been seized with paralysis, and that he was now lying
powerless and unconscious on his bed.

"Come, sir, for mercy's sake; come quickly. My Lady is distracted, nor
can any of us think of what to do."

Cashel scratched a few lines in pencil to Tiernay, requesting his
immediate presence, and ringing for his servant, at once despatched
a message to the village. This done, he followed the maid to Lord
Kilgoff's chamber.

CHAPTER XXI. THE SECOND SHOCK

The waters darken, and the rustling sound
Tells of the coming "squall."

The Pilot.

Lord Kilgoff was stretched upon a bed, breathing heavily; one arm lay
straight beside him, and the other crossed upon his breast. His features
were deadly pale, save in the centre of each cheek, where a deep-red
spot seemed to burn. A slight, very slight, distortion marked his
features, and a faint tremor seemed to quiver on his lip. Beside the
bed, with an expression of some conscious terror in her face, sat Lady
Kilgoff; her white dressing-gown, over which her hair fell in long
abundant masses, added pallor to her looks. Her eyes met Cashel's as he
entered, and then reverted to the bed where the sick man lay, but with
an expression less of sorrow than of bewilderment and confusion.

She looked, indeed, like one whose faculties had been stunned by some
sudden shock, and had, as yet, made no effort to recall them to
their wonted exercise. At the foot of the bed stood the maid, whose
half-uttered sobs were the only sounds to break the stillness.

Cashel drew near, and placed his fingers on the sick man's pulse. Often
had he, in his former adventurous career, felt the ebbing current of
a life's b