ready to lick the boots o' Grimshaw.
It turned out that Grimshaw left him an annuity of three thousand
dollars, which he can enjoy as long as he observes one condition."

"What is that?"

"He must not let his daughter marry one Barton Baynes, late o' the town
o' Ballybeen. How is that for spite, my boy? They say it's written down
in the will."

I think that he must have seen the flame of color playing on my face,
for he quickly added:

"Don't worry, lad. The will o' God is greater than the will o' Grimshaw.
He made you two for each other and she will be true to ye, as true as
the needle to the north star."

"Do you think so?"

"Sure I do. Didn't she as much as tell me that here in this room--not a
week ago? She loves ye, boy, as true as God loves ye, an' she's a girl
of a thousand.

"Her father is a bit too fond o' money. I've never been hard struck with
him. It has always seemed to me that he was afflicted with perfection--a
camellia man!--so invariably neat and proper and conventional! Such
precise and wearisome rectitude! What a relief it would be to see him in
his shirt-sleeves or with soiled boots or linen or to hear him say
something--well-unexpected! Six shillings a week to the church and four
to charity, as if that were the contract--no more, no less! But did ye
ever hear o' his going out o' his way to do a good thing--say to help a
poor woman left with a lot o' babies or a poor lad that wants to go to
school? 'No, I'm very sorry, but I give four shillings a week to charity
and that's all I can afford.'"

"Why did they go away? Was it because I was coming?"

"I think it likely, my fine lad. The man heard o' it some way--perhaps
through yer uncle. He's crazy for the money, but he'll get over that.
Leave him to me. I've a fine course o' instruction ready for my Lord o'
Dunkelberg."

"I think I shall go and try to find her," I said.

"I am to counsel ye about that," said the schoolmaster. "She's as keen
as a brier--the fox! She says, 'Keep away. Don't alarm him, or he'll
bundle us off to Europe for two or three years.'

"So there's the trail ye travel, my boy. It's the one that keeps away.
Don't let him think ye've anything up the sleeve o' yer mind. Ye know,
lad, I believe Sally's mother has hold o' the same rope with her and
when two clever women get their wits together the divvle scratches his
head. It's an old sayin', lad, an' don't ye go out an' cut the rope.
Keep yer head cool an' yer heart w