ought as
a compensation for every failure.

Nor was this unmixed with fear. What if Cashel should enter upon a
defence by exposing the events of that last night at Tubbermore? What
if he should produce the forged deed in open court? Who was to say that
Enrique himself might not be forthcoming to prove his falsehood? Again:
how far could he trust Tom Keane? might not the fellow's avarice suggest
a tyranny impossible to endure? Weighty considerations were these, and
full of their own peril. Linton paused beside the lake to ruminate, and
for some time was deep buried in thought A light rustling sound at last
aroused him; he looked up, and perceived, directly in front of him, the
very man of whom he was thinking--Tom Keane himself.

Both stood still, each fixedly regarding the other without speaking.
It seemed a game in which he who made the first move should lose. So,
certainly, did Linton feel; but not so Tom Keane, who, with an easy
composure that all the other's "breeding" could not compass, said,--

"Well, sir, I hope you like your work?"

"_My_ work! _my_ work! How can you call it _mine_, my good friend?"
replied Linton, with a great effort to appear as much at ease as the
other.

"Just as ould Con Corrigan built the little pier we're standin' on this
minit, though his own hands did n't lay a stone of it."

"There's no similarity between the cases whatever," said Linton, with a
well-feigned laugh. "Here there was a plan--an employer--hired laborers
engaged to perform a certain task."

"Well, well," broke in Keane, impatiently; "sure we're not in 'Coort,'
that you need make a speech. 'T was your own doing: deny it if you like,
but don't drive me to prove it."

The tone of menace in which these words were uttered was increased by
the fact, now for the first time apparent to Linton, that Tom Keane
had been drinking freely that morning, and was still under the strong
excitement of liquor.

Linton passed his arm familiarly within the other's, and in a voice of
deep meaning, said: "Were you only as cautious as you are courageous,
Tom, there's not a man in Europe I 'd rather take as my partner in a
dangerous enterprise. You are a glorious fellow in the hour of peril,
but you are a child, a mere child, when it's over."

Keane did not speak, but a leer of inveterate cunning seemed to answer
this speech.

"I say this, Tom," said Linton, coaxingly, "because I see the risk to
which your natural frankness will expose