ld now endure the mother. The
tears of the girl and her reproaches he still did fear.

"I will do anything that you can dictate short of that," he said again
to Father Marty.

"Anything but the one thing that you have sworn to do?"

"Anything but the one thing that I have sworn not to do." For he had
told the priest of the promises he had made both to his uncle and to his
uncle's widow.

"Then," said the priest, as he crammed his hat on his head, and shook
the dust off his feet, "if I were you I would not go to Ardkill
to-morrow if I valued my life." Nevertheless Father Marty slept at
Ennistimon that night, and was prepared to bar the way if any attempt
at escape were made.

CHAPTER XI.

ON THE CLIFFS.

No attempt at escape was made. The Earl breakfasted by himself at about
nine, and then lighting a cigar, roamed about for a while round the Inn,
thinking of the work that was now before him. He saw nothing of Father
Marty though he knew that the priest was still in Ennistimon. And he
felt that he was watched. They might have saved themselves that trouble,
for he certainly had no intention of breaking his word to them. So he
told himself, thinking as he did so, that people such as these could
not understand that an Earl of Scroope would not be untrue to his word.
And yet since he had been back in County Clare he had almost regretted
that he had not broken his faith to them and remained in England.
At half-past ten he started on a car, having promised to be at the
cottage at noon, and he told his servant that he should certainly leave
Ennistimon that day at three. The horse and gig were to be ready for him
exactly at that hour.

On this occasion he did not go through Liscannor, but took the other
road to the burial ground. There he left his car and slowly walked
along the cliffs till he came to the path leading down from them to the
cottage. In doing this he went somewhat out of his way, but he had time
on his hands and he did not desire to be at the cottage before the hour
he had named. It was a hot midsummer day, and there seemed to be hardly
a ripple on the waves. The tide was full in, and he sat for a while
looking down upon the blue waters. What an ass had he made himself,
coming thither in quest of adventures! He began to see now the meaning
of such idleness of purpose as that to which he had looked for pleasure
and excitement. Even the ocean itself and the very rocks had lost their
charm for him.