elf to the base practices of mere thievery?"

"'Tis not I who has betrayed any trust," I cried boldly. "I brought
the papers and wished to offer them. They arrived in your possession,
and you cried 'Straw, straw!' Did you not?"

"'Twas an expedient, O'Ruddy," said the Earl.

"There is more than one expedient in the world," said I. "I am now
using the expedient of keeping the papers."

And in the glance which he gave me I saw that I had been admitted
behind a certain barrier. He was angry, but he would never more
attempt to overbear me with grand threats. And he would never more
attempt to undermine me with cheap flattery. We had measured one
against the other, and he had not come away thinking out of his
proportion. After a time he said:

"What do you propose to do, Mr. O'Ruddy?"

I could not help but grin at him. "I propose nothing," said I. "I am
not a man for meaning two things when I say one."

"You've said one thing, I suppose?" he said slowly.

"I have," said I.

"And the one thing?" said he.

"Your memory is as good as mine," said I.

He mused deeply and at great length. "You have the papers?" he asked
finally.

"I still have them," said I.

"Then," he cried with sudden vehemence, "why didn't you read the
papers and find out the truth?"

I almost ran away.

"Your--your lordship," I stammered, "I thought perhaps in London--in
London perhaps--I might get a--I would try to get a tutor."

CHAPTER XIII

"So that is the way of it, is it?" said the Earl, grinning. "And why
did you not take it to some clerk?"

"My lord," said I with dignity, "the papers were with me in trust for
you. A man may be a gentleman and yet not know how to read and write."

"'Tis quite true," answered he.

"And when I spoke of the tutor in London I did not mean to say that I
would use what knowledge he imparted to read your papers. I was merely
blushing for the defects in my education, although Father Donovan
often said that I knew half as much as he did, poor man, and him a
holy father. If you care to so direct me, I can go even now to my
chamber and make shift to read the papers."

"The Irish possess a keen sense of honour," said he admiringly.

"We do," said I. "We possess more integrity and perfect sense of
honour than any other country in the world, although they all say the
same of themselves, and it was my own father who often said that he
would trust an Irishman as far as he could see him and no more,