he
consults his interest. Perhaps all matters might be conciliated by an
interview!"

"An interview!" exclaimed Riccabocca; "there is but one way we should
meet--foot to foot, and hand to hand."

"Is it so? Then you would not listen to the Count if he proposed some
amicable compromise; if, for instance, he was a candidate for the hand
of your daughter?"

The poor Italian, so wise and so subtle in his talk, was as rash and
blind when it came to action, as if he had been born in Ireland, and
nourished on potatoes and Repeal. He bared his whole soul to the
merciless eye of Randal.

"My daughter!" he exclaimed. "Sir, your question is an insult."

Randal's way became clear at once. "Forgive me," he said mildly; "I will
tell you frankly all that I know. I am acquainted with the Count's
sister. I have some little influence over her. It was she who informed
me that the Count had come here, bent upon discovering your refuge, and
resolved to wed your daughter. This is the danger of which I spoke. And
when I asked your permission to aid in forestalling it, I only intended
to suggest that it might be wise to find some securer home, and that I,
if permitted to know that home, and to visit you, could apprise you from
time to time of the Count's plans and movements."

"Sir, I thank you sincerely," said Riccabocca with emotion; "but am I
not safe here?"

"I doubt it. Many people have visited the Squire in the shooting season,
who will have heard of you--perhaps seen you, and who are likely to meet
the Count in London. And Frank Hazeldean, too, who knows the Count's
sister--"

"True, true," interrupted Riccabocca. "I see, I see. I will consider. I
will reflect. Meanwhile you are going to Hazeldean. Do not say a word to
the Squire. He knows not the secret you have discovered."

With those words Riccabocca turned slightly away, and Randal took the
hint to depart.

"At all times command and rely on me," said the young traitor, and he
regained the pale to which he had fastened his horse.

As he remounted, he cast his eyes towards the place where he had left
Riccabocca. The Italian was still standing there. Presently the form of
Jackeymo was seen emerging from the shrubs. Riccabocca turned hastily
round, recognized his servant, uttered an exclamation loud enough to
reach Randal's ear, and then catching Jackeymo by the arm, disappeared
with him amidst the deeper recesses of the garden.

"It will be indeed in my favor," thought