nery in every variety of light and shadow. The
rarest flowers, the most costly shrubs, brought from long distances,
at great risk and price, were here assembled to add their beauties to a
scene where nature had already been so lavish.

While Mark was yet looking about in quest of the entrance to the
building, he saw a man approach, with whose features he was well
acquainted. This was no other than Sam. Wylie, the sub-agent, the same
he had treated so roughly when last they met. The fellow seemed to know
that, though in certain respects the tables were now turned, yet, that
with such a foe as Mark O'Donoghue, any exhibition of triumph might be
an unsafe game; so he touched his hat, and was about to move past in
silence, when Mark cried out--

"I want to speak with your master--can I see him?"

"Master!" said Wylie, and his sallow face grew sallower and sicklier.
"If ye mean Mr. Hemsworth, sir----"

"Of course I do. If I spoke of Sir Marmaduke Travers, I should mean
_his_ master. Is he at home?"

"No, sir; he has left 'the Lodge.'"

"Left it!--since when? I saw him last night at ten o'clock."

"He left here before eleven," was Wylie's answer.

"When is he expected back?"

"Not for a week, at soonest, sir. It may be even longer, if, as he said,
it were necessary for him to go to England."

"To England!" exclaimed Mark, in bitter disappointment, for in the
distance the hope of speedy vengeance seemed all but annihilated. "What
is his address in Dublin?" said he, recovering himself.

"To the office of the Upper Secretary, sir, I am to address all his
letters," said Wylie, for the first time venturing on a slight approach
to a smile.

"His hotel, I mean. Where does he stop in the city?"

"He usually stays in the Lower Castle-yard, sir, when in town, and
probably will be there now, as the Privy Council is sitting, and they
may want to examine him."

The slow measured tone in which these few words were uttered gave them a
direct application to Mark himself which made him flush deeply. He stood
for a few seconds, seemingly in doubt, and then turned his steps towards
home.

"Did you hear what the young O'Donoghue said, there, as he passed?" said
Wylie to a labouring man who stood gazing after the youth.

"I did, faix," replied the other; "I heerd it plain enough."

"Tell me the words, Pat--I'd like to hear them."

"'Tis what he said--'He's escaped me this time; but, by G--, he'll not
have the same luck alwa