ould banish it.

I begged to see the maiden.

'Twas wonderful to see her as she came in, stately and beautiful as
ever, betraying only in the pallor of her cheeks the terrible anguish
that possessed her.

She came and kissed me like a sister, and then, laying her hand in
Jeannette's, tears came to her eyes as she gave us joy of our happy
meeting, after so much peril.

"Maiden," said I, "we know no happiness while you stand thus desolate.
But Ludar lives. As sure as I lie here, you shall find him, and we
shall all thank Heaven together."

Her face brightened.

"You have said as much before," said she, "and it has come to pass.
Yes, I will hope still."

But her voice fell sadly with the words, and her face turned to the
window, seaward.

Then she bade me tell her what had passed since we parted in London, and
how Ludar and I came on the _Gerona_. And, hearing of all the chances
that had befallen us, I think she took a little hope that all this
buffetting and peril was not assuredly to end in loss.

But she said nothing. Only she kept her hand in Jeannette's; and when I
told her of the horrible scene on the bog by Killybegs, she shuddered,
and muttered what, I fear, was a prayer for the soul of a dead man.

"But how come you in Dunluce?" I asked again, presently.

'Twas Jeannette who answered me.

"'Tis easily told, dear Humphrey. After Sir Turlogh departed for
Dublin, leaving us in charge of this,"--here she shivered--"this Captain
Merriman, my mistress and I kept our chambers, and durst not so much as
venture beyond the door. Our good protectors--Heaven reward them!--had
been banished the place; and but for a few of the O'Neill's men, who
stood in the way, we had not been safe where we were for a day.

"At last, one day, there came suddenly a messenger, purporting to be
from the O'Neill, bidding the Captain send his daughter to him under an
escort to Dublin. On this the Captain rudely broke into our chambers,
and bade us there and then set out. What could two weak maids do? We
could read treachery in his wicked eye, yet naught we could say or
pretend could put him off; and there and then, without time so much as
to speak a word to one another, we were marched forth, like prisoners,
and mounted on our steeds.

"Just as we set forth, he came up to the leader of our party, and said
in a whisper I could overhear: 'Remember--the mistress to the house by
the wood, and the little one to Dublin--and ha