of prejudices
so strong, and of prepossessions so deeply rooted, he paused. Then,
"Why?" he repeated. "Can you ask me when you know how many a life as
young as yours--and I take you to be scarcely, sir, in your
twenties--has been forfeit for a thoughtless word, an unwitting touch,
a look; when you know how many a bride has been widowed as soon as
wedded, how many a babe orphaned as soon as born? And for what? For
what, sir?"

"For the point of honour!" The McMurrough cried. Morty, for his part,
was dumb with astonishment. What talk was this!

"The point of honour?" the Colonel repeated, more slowly, "what is it?
In nine cases out of ten the fear of seeming to be afraid. In the
tenth--the desire to wipe out a stain that blood leaves as deep as
before!"

"Faith, and you surprise me!" Phelim cried with a genuine _naivete_
that at another time would have provoked a smile. "You do indeed!"

"And Kerry'll more than surprise you," quoth The McMurrough rudely, "if
it's that way you'll be acting! Would you let Crosby of Castlemaine
call you thief?"

"I would not thieve!" the Colonel replied.

There was a stricken silence for a moment. Then The McMurrough sprang
to his feet, his querulous face flushed with rage, his arm raised. But
Ulick's huge hand dragged him down. "Easy, lad, easy," he cried,
restraining the young man. "He's your guest! He's your guest; remember
that!"

"And he spoke in haste," the Colonel said. "I withdraw my words," he
continued, rising and frankly holding out his hand. "I recognise that I
was wrong! I see that the act bears in your eyes a different aspect,
and I beg your pardon, sir."

The McMurrough took the hand, though he took it sullenly; and the
Colonel sat down again. His action, to say nothing of his words, left
Phelim and Morty in a state of amazement so profound that the two sat
staring as if carved out of the same block of wood.

If Colonel John noticed their surprise he seemed in no way put out by
it. "Perhaps," he said gently, "it is wrong to thrust opinions on
others unasked. I think that is so! It should be enough to act upon
them one's self, and refrain from judging others."

No one answered. But one thing was certain: whether he judged them or
not, they were all judging him, with such of their faculties as
remained to them. True, Flavia, save by a single frightened glance when
a quarrel seemed imminent, had not betrayed what she thought--nor now
betrayed what she was thinking.