g which
time the ear of the former was keenly alive to any steps that might
be heard on the stairs or above head. Not that he would himself
have taken any active measures to prevent Mr. Mollett's escape,
had such an attempt been made. The woman could be a better witness
for him than the man, and there would be no fear of her running.
Nevertheless, he was anxious that Mollett should, of his own accord,
come into his presence.

"I am sorry to keep you so long waiting, sir," said Mrs. Swan.

"It does not signify. I can easily understand that your husband
should wish to reflect a little before he speaks to me. I can forgive
that."

"And, sir--"

"Well, Mrs. Mollett?"

"Are you going to do anything to punish him, sir? If a poor woman may
venture to speak a word, I would beg you on my bended knees to be
merciful to him. If you would forgive him now I think he would live
honest, and be sorry for what he has done."

"He has worked terrible evil," said Mr. Prendergast solemnly. "Do you
know that he has harassed a poor gentleman into his grave?"

"Heaven be merciful to him!" said the poor woman. "But, sir, was not
that his son? Was it not Abraham Mollett who did that? Oh, sir, if
you will let a poor wife speak, it is he that has been worse than his
father."

Before Mr. Prendergast had made up his mind how he would answer her,
he heard the sound of footsteps slowly descending upon the stairs.
They were those of a person who stepped heavily and feebly, and it
was still a minute before the door was opened.

"Sir," said the woman. "Sir," and as she spoke she looked eagerly
into his face--"Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive them that
trespass against us. We should all remember that, sir."

"True, Mrs. Mollett, quite true;" and Mr. Prendergast rose from his
chair as the door opened.

It will be remembered that Mr. Prendergast and Matthew Mollett
had met once before, in the room usually occupied by Sir Thomas
Fitzgerald. On that occasion Mr. Mollett had at any rate entered the
chamber with some of the prestige of power about him. He had come
to Castle Richmond as the man having the whip hand; and though his
courage had certainly fallen somewhat before he left it, nevertheless
he had not been so beaten down but what he was able to say a word or
two for himself. He had been well in health and decent in appearance,
and even as he left the room had hardly realized the absolute ruin
which had fallen upon him.

But now