nds would fly to caubeens and knees seek the ground if a certain
face showed at a window: moreover, that that at which he merely guessed
was no secret to the barefooted colleens who fed the pigs, or the
barelegged urchins who carried the potatoes. Some strange change had
fallen upon Morristown, and imbued it with life and hope and movement.

He was weighing this when he caught the sound of voices in the house,
and he turned about and entered. The priest and Captain Machin had
descended and were standing with Uncle Ulick warming themselves before
the wood fire. The McMurrough, the O'Beirnes, and two or three
strangers--grim-looking men who had followed, a glance told him, the
trade he had followed--formed a group a little apart, yet near enough
to be addressed. Asgill was not present, nor Flavia.

"Good-morning, again," Colonel John said. And he bowed.

"With all my heart, Colonel Sullivan," the priest answered cordially.
And Colonel John saw that he had guessed aright: the speaker no longer
took the trouble to hide his episcopal cross and chain, or the ring on
his finger. There was an increase of dignity, too, in his manner. His
very cordiality seemed a condescension.

Captain Machin bowed silently, while The McMurrough and the O'Beirnes
looked darkly at the Colonel. They did not understand: it was plain
that they were not in the secret of the morning encounter.

"I see O'Sullivan Og is here," the Colonel said, addressing Uncle
Ulick. "That will be very convenient."

"Convenient?" Uncle Ulick repeated, looking blank.

"We can give him the orders as to the Frenchman's cargo," the Colonel
said calmly.

Uncle Ulick winced. "Ay, to be sure! To be sure, lad," he answered. But
he rubbed his head, like a man in a difficulty.

The Bishop seemed to be going to ask a question. Before he could speak,
however, Flavia came tripping down the stairs, a gay song on her lips.
Half way down, the song, light and sweet as a bird's, came to a sudden
end.

"I am afraid I am late!" she said. And then--as the Colonel
supposed--she saw that more than the family party were assembled: that
the Bishop and Captain Machin were there also, and the strangers--and,
above all, that he was there. She descended the last three stairs
silently, but with a heightened colour, moved proudly into the middle
of the group, and curtsied before the ecclesiastic till her knee
touched the floor.

He gave her his hand to kiss, with a smile and a murmured