unique.

This erroneous impression remained with him until the time arrived for
Clodagh to pilot him to Carrigmore; and filled with the knowledge of
having a sympathetic listener, he harked back to his earliest
experiences while he covered the two miles of firm yellow sand with his
young hostess walking sedately beside him and half a dozen
dogs--setters, retrievers, and sharp-nosed terriers--careering about
him in a joyous band. He entered upon minute and technical details of
every archaeological discovery of the past decade; he recounted his
personal opinion of each; he even unbent to the extent of relating a
dry anecdote or two during that delightful walk in the mellow warmth of
the afternoon. It was only when the long curve of the strand had at
last been traversed and the rocks of Orristown left far behind, that
discoveries, opinions, and stories alike faded from his mind in the
nearer interest of the Carrigmore ruins.

Even to the pleasure-seeker there is something symbolic and imposing in
the tall, grey, symmetrical tower that tops the hill above Carrigmore
and faces the great sweep of the Atlantic Ocean; something infinitely
ancient and impressive in the crumbling ruins of the church from whose
walls the rudely carved figures look down to-day as they looked down in
primitive Christian times, when Carrigmore was a centre of learning,
and its tower a beacon to the world of Faith. To Milbanke--a student of
such things--they were a revelation.

He scarcely spoke as he climbed the steep hill and entered the
grass-grown churchyard; and once within the precincts of the ruin all
considerations save the consideration of the moment faded from his
thoughts. With the mild enthusiasm that his hobby always awoke in him,
he set about a minute examination of the place, hurriedly unstrapping
the satchel in which he carried his antiquarian's paraphernalia.

During the first half-hour Clodagh sat dutifully on one of the graves,
alternately plaiting grasses and admonishing or petting her dogs; then
her long-tried patience gave out. With a sudden imperative need of
action she rose, shook the grasses from her skirt, and, picking her way
between the half-buried headstones, reached Milbanke's side.

"Mr. Milbanke," she said frankly, "would you mind very much if I went
away and came back for you in an hour? You see, the ruins aren't quite
so new to me as they are to you--people say they've been here since the
fourth century."

Sh