did ache a little, but not enough to make me unhappy, and it
seemed to me, as I lay in the midst of that apparently dead Irish town,
that I was coming perilously near to playing the fool. But my confidence
in St. Alleyne was unbounded, and under all his lightness of manner it
was plain that he was in deadly earnest; so presently, thinking of him
and of the face I had seen, and being horribly tired after the previous
night, I fell comfortably asleep.

When I awoke it was dark outside and there was only the red glow of
firelight in the room. I got up to light a candle, and felt rather
lightheaded and feverish; it gave me some satisfaction to realise that I
should not have to altogether act my part. I looked at my watch and
found that it was a quarter to six. I lay down again and listened;
beyond the slight movement in the house there was not a sound to be
heard; I might have been in a lodge in the wilderness.

Presently I heard Biddy's light step on the stairs, and there was a
tentative knock at the door.

"Come in," I cried, and she entered with dinner and a lamp.

"Are you betther, sorr?" she asked.

"No," said I, "but worse."

"Will I send for Docther Nolan now?"

"No, Biddy, I'll try to eat some dinner."

"Do, poor soul!" she said. She drew a little table to the bedside, and,
having set the food on it, left me. It was not a good dinner; a healthy
appetite and an easy conscience might have been satisfied with it, but
neither of these was mine at the moment, so I did no more than just play
with it. Then I knocked on the floor for Biddy, who came up at once. She
was always smiling; she had one of those faces to which only laughter or
tears seem natural.

"Have ye done, sorr?" she asked, in undisguised surprise.

"Yes," I said, "I can't eat."

She suggested Doctor Nolan again.

"No, I'm afraid a doctor could do no good until I've got something off
my mind."

"Will I sind for a priest, thin?" she asked.

"At present, Biddy, it's not a matter for a priest, but if you knew of
some good woman, not a nun, but still in the world--" I paused from
sheer inability to go on; I was so unused to this kind of thing that any
sign of suspicion on Biddy's part would have meant disaster. But Biddy
had a kind heart, and instantly scented a romance.

"Ah," she said, "I see how it is wid ye."

I said nothing, but lay still, watching her face. I tried once or twice
to mention Miss O'Callaghan's name, but my lips refused to