She left him, and went to her room, when she rang the bell, and her maid, the faithful Connor, who had been restored to her service, came to her.

“Connor,” said she, “I shall not be able to dine with papa to-day, especially as that wretch Whitecraft is likely to dine with him.  Go to Lanigan, and tell him to come to me, for I wish to know if he has any thing light and delicate that he could send to my room; Connor, I am very unhappy.”

“But, miss, sure they say that the laws are changed, and that Mr. Reilly may go at large if he wishes.”

“I know that, Connor; but send Lanigan to me immediately.”

“When Lanigan entered he found the Cooleen Bawn in tears.

“My God, Miss Folliard,” said he, “what is the matter with you? why are you crying, or what have they done to you?”

“Lanigan,” she replied, wiping her eyes, “you and Connor only are in our secret; we must fly this night.”

“This night, Miss Folliard!”

“This night, Lanigan; and you must assist us.”

“To the last drop of my blood, I will.”

“Lanigan, Reilly is discovered.”

“Discovered, miss! good God, how was he discovered?”

“By his hands—­by the whiteness of his beautiful hands.  Now, Lanigan, Sir Robert, aware that he cannot act the tyrant at present, as he used to do, will instigate my father to some act of outrage against him; for you know, Lanigan, how cowardly, how cruel, how vindictive, the detestable villain is; and most assuredly he will make my credulous and generous, but hot-tempered, father the instrument of his vengeance upon Reilly; and, besides, he will certainly urge him to bring about an immediate marriage between himself and me, to which, it is true, I would, and will die, sooner than consent.  I will dine here, Lanigan, for I cannot bear to look upon my dear father, whom I am about to—­” Here her tears interrupted her, and she could proceed no farther; at length she recovered herself, and resumed:  “I know,” she added, “that Whitecraft is now detailing his discovery and his plans.  Oh!! that, for Reilly’s sake, I could become acquainted with them!”

“What would you wish for dinner, Miss Folliard?” asked Lanigan calmly.

“For dinner? oh, any thing, any thing; I care not what; but see Reilly, tell him I have a second key for the back gate in the garden, and also for the front; and, Lanigan—­”

“Well, Miss Folliard; but, for God’s sake, don’t cry so; your eyes will get red, and your father may notice it.”

“True, thank you, Lanigan; and Reilly, besides, told me to keep myself calm; but how can I, Lanigan?  Oh, my father! my beloved father! how can I abandon—­desert him?  No, Lanigan, I will not go; say to Reilly—­say I have changed my mind; tell him that my affection for my father has overcome my love for him; say I will never marry—­that my heart is his, and never will or can be another’s.  But