h your interest is only inferior to my own. The
explanation would be too long for a letter, and is not
necessary besides, as D. will be in Dublin a day or two
after this reaches you. See him at once; his address is
Merrion Square North, and he will be fully prepared for your
visit. Be on your guard. In truth, D., who is my own
solicitor and man of business in Ireland, is somewhat of a
crafty nature, and may have other interests in his head
paramount to those of, yours,

"'Lackington.'"

"Can you guess what this means, Grog? Has it any reference to the
marriage scheme?"

"No; this is another match altogether," said Grog, sententiously;
"and this here Dunn--I know about him, though I never seen him--is the
swellest cove going. _You_ ain't fit to deal with _him_--you ain't!"
added he, contemptuously. "If you go and talk to that fellow alone, I
know how 't will be."

"Come, come, I'm no flat"

Grog's look--one of intense derision--stopped him, and after stammering
and blushing deeply, he was silent.

"You think, because you have a turn of speed among cripples, that you
're fast," said Grog, with one of his least amiable grins, "but I tell
you that except among things of your own breeding, you'd never save
a distance. Lord love ye! it never makes a fellow sharp to be 'done;'
that's one of the greatest mistakes people ever make. It makes him
suspicious,--it keeps him on the look-out, as the sailors say; but
what's the use of being on the look-out if you haven't got good eyes?
It's the go-ahead makes a man nowadays, and the cautious chaps have none
of that. No, no; don't you go rashly and trust yourself alone with Dunn.
You 'll have to consider well over this,--you 'll have to turn it over
carefully in your mind. I 'd not wonder," said he, after a pause, "but
you 'll have to take _me_ with you!"

CHAPTER XIII. A MESSAGE FROM JACK

"He's come at last, Bella," said Kellett, as, tired and weary, he
entered the little cottage one night after dark. "I waited till I saw
him come out of the station at West-land Row, and drive off to his
house."

"Did he see you, papa?--did he speak to you?" asked she, eagerly.

"See _me_--speak to _me!_ It's little he was thinking of me, darling!
with Lord Glengariff shaking one of his hands, and Sir Samuel Downie
squeezing the other, and a dozen more crying out, 'Welcome home, Mr.
Bunn! it is happy we are to see you looking so well; we