t the Crown one must be sure of one's
ground, and fear no foe, however great and high. Well, I have won
so far, and I shall win in the end. Mallow should have some respect
for one that beat him at Phoenix Park with the sword; that beat him
when he would have me imprisoned here; that beat him in the matter
of the ship for Haiti, and that will beat him on every hazard he
sets, unless he stoops to underhand acts, which he will not do.
That much must be said for him. He plays his part in no small way,
and he is more a bigot and a fanatic loyalist than a rogue.
Suppose--but no, I will not suppose. I will lay my plans, I will
keep faith with people here who trust me, and who know that if I am
stern I am also just, and I will play according to the rules made by
better men than myself.

But what is this I see? Michael Clones--in his white jean waistcoat,
white neckcloth and trousers, and blue coat--is coming up the drive in
hot haste, bearing a letter. He rides too hard. He has never carried
himself easily in this climate. He treats it as if it was Ireland. He
will not protect himself, and, if penalty followed folly, should now be
in his grave. I like you, Michael. You are a boon, but--

CHAPTER XVII. STRANGERS ARRIVE

Dyck Calhoun's letter was never ended. It was only a relic of the years
spent in Jamaica, only a sign of his well-being, though it gave no real
picture of himself. He did not know how like a tyrant he had become in
some small ways, while in the large things he remained generous, urbane,
and resourceful. He was in appearance thin, dark-favoured, buoyant in
manner, and stern of face, with splendid eyes. Had he dwelt on Olympus,
he might have been summoned to judge and chastise the sons of men.

When Michael Clones came to the doorway, Dyck laid down his quill-pen
and eyed the flushed servant in disapproval.

"What is it, Michael? Wherefore this starkness? Is some one come from
heaven?"

"Not precisely from heaven, y'r honour, but--"

"But--yes, Michael! Have done with but-ing, and come to the real
matter."

"Well, sir, they've come from Virginia."

Dyck Calhoun slowly got to his feet, his face paling, his body
stiffening. From Virginia! Who should be come from Virginia, save she to
whom he had just been writing?

"Who has come from Virginia?" He knew, but he wanted it said.

"Sure, you knew a vessel came from America last night. Well, in her was
one that was c