It was, then, with
all the dignity of his natural character, when unclouded by momentary
flashes of passion, that he said--

"What may be your errand here this morning?"

Few and simple as the words were, there was that in their quiet,
unassuming delivery, which in a second recalled the footman to a
full consciousness of his impertinent mistake. He saw at once the
immeasurable gulph, impassible to any effort of assumption or insolence,
which separated them, and with the ready tact of his calling, he
respectfully took off his hat, and held forth a sealed letter, without
one word of reply or apology.

Sir Archibald put on his spectacles, and having carefully read the
superscription, turned back towards the house without speaking.

"Here is a letter for you, O'Donoghue," said he, as he entered the
parlour where the chief was already seated at his breakfast, while
Kerry O'Leary, a short distance behind his chair, was relating the
circumstances of the last night's adventure.

"Is it from Mark?" said the old man eagerly; and then glancing at
the writing, he threw it from him in disappointment, and added, "I am
getting very uneasy about that lad."

"Had ye no' better read the letter; the messenger wha brought it seems
to expect an answer," interposed M'Nab.

"Messenger!--eh--not by post? Is Hemsworth come back?" exclaimed
O'Donoghue, with an evident degree of fear in his manner.

"No, sir," said Kerry, guessing to what topic his master's thoughts were
turning; "the Captain is not coming, they say, for a month or six weeks
yet."

"Thank God," muttered O'Donoghue; "that scoundrel never leaves me a
night's rest, when I hear he's in the neighbourhood. Will you see what's
in it, Archy?--my head is quite confused this morning; I got up three
hours before my time."

Sir Archibald resumed his spectacles, and broke the seal. The contents
were at some length it would seem, for as he perused the letter to
himself, several minutes elapsed.

"Go on, Kerry," said O'Donoghue; "I want to hear all about this
business."

"Well, I believe your honour knows the most of it now; for when I came
up to the glen, they were all safe over, barrin' the mare; poor Kittane,
she was carried down the falls, and they took her up near a mile below
the old bridge, stone dead; Master Mark will fret his heart out when he
hears it."

"This is a very polite note," interposed Sir Archy, as he laid the
letter open before him, "from Sir Marmaduke Tra