aunted me with many fears of
mishap."

Then in due course an answer had come from Michael Sunlocks, saying
he had landed safely, but there being no regular mails, he had been
compelled to await the sailing of English ships to carry his letters;
that by some error he had missed the first of these, and was now
writing by the next; that many strange things had happened to him,
and he was lodged in the house of the Governor-General; that his
father's death had touched him very deeply; being brought about by a
mischance that so nearly affected himself; that the sad fact, so far
from leaving him free to return home, seemed to make it the more
necessary that he should remain where he was until he had done what
he had been sent to do: and, finally, that what that work was he
could not tell in a letter, but only by word of mouth, whenever it
pleased God that they should meet again. This, with many words of
affection for Adam himself, in thanks for his fatherly anxiety, and
some mention of Greeba in tender but guarded terms, was the sum of
the only letter that had come from Michael Sunlocks in the four years
after Stephen Orry's death to the first of the events that are now to
be recorded.

And throughout these years Jason had lived at Lague, having been
accepted as housemate by the six Fairbrothers, when the ship-broken
men had gone their own ways on receiving from their Dublin owners the
wages that were due to them. Though his relation to Stephen Orry had
never become known, it had leaked out that he had come into Orry's
money. He had done little work. His chief characteristics had been
love of liberty and laziness. In the summer he had fished on the sea
and in the rivers and he had shot and hunted in the winter. He had
followed these pursuits out of sheer love of an idle life; but if he
had a hobby it was the collecting of birds. Of every species on the
island, of land or seafowl, he had found a specimen. He stuffed his
birds with some skill, and kept them in the little hut in
Port-y-Vullin.

The four years had developed his superb physique, and he had grown to
be a yet more magnificent creature than Stephen Orry himself. He was
rounder, though his youth might have pardoned more angularity;
broader, and more upright, with a proud poise of head, long wavy red
hair, smooth cheeks, solid white teeth, face of broad lines, an
intelligent expression, and a deep voice that made the mountain ring.
His dress suited well his face a