ntemptuously. "Haven't I told you, you'll go
to-morrow?"

"If I must," she said slowly, "I will--if I must."

"Then what's the good of talking, I'm thinking?" The McMurrough
answered. And he was going on--being in a bullying mood--to say more in
the same strain, when the opportunity was taken from him. One of the
O'Beirnes, who happened to avert his eyes from the girl, discovered
Payton standing at the foot of the stairs. Phelim's exclamation
apprised the others that something was amiss, and they turned.

"I left my snuff-box on the table," Payton said, with a sly grin. How
much he had heard they could not tell. "Ha! there it is! Thank you.
Sorry! Sorry, I am sure! Hope I don't trespass. Will you present me to
your sister, Mr. McMurrough?"

James McMurrough had no option but to do so--looking foolish; while
Luke Asgill stood by with rage in his heart, cursing the evil chance
which had brought Flavia downstairs.

"I assure you," Payton said, bowing low before her, but not so low that
the insolence of his smile was hidden from all, "I think myself happy.
My friend Asgill's picture of you, warmly as he painted it, fell
infinitely--infinitely below the reality!"

CHAPTER XXI

THE KEY

Colonel John rose and walked unsteadily to the window. He rested a hand
on either jamb and looked through it, peering to right and left with
wistful eyes. He detected no one, nothing, no change, no movement, and,
with a groan, he straightened himself. But he still continued to look
out, gazing at the bare sward below the window, at the sparkling sheet
of water beyond and beneath it, at the pitiless blue sky above, in
which the sun was still high, though it had begun to decline.

Presently he grew weary, and went back to his chair. He sat down with
his elbows on his knees and his head between his hands. Again his ears
had deceived him! Again hope had told her flattering tale! How many
more times would he start to his feet, fancying he heard the footstep
that did not fall, calling aloud to those who were not there,
anticipating those who, more hard of heart than the stone walls about
him, more heedless than the pitiless face of nature without, would not
come before the appointed time! And that was hours away, hours of
thirst and hunger, almost intolerable; of patience and waiting, weary
waiting, broken only by such a fancy, born of his weakened senses, as
had just drawn him to the window.

The suffering which is inevitable i