“Be kind and indulgent to your daughter, for she’ll soon make all your fortunes; an’ take care of her and yourselves till I see yez again.”

As before, he gave them no further opportunity of asking for explanations, but immediately departed; and as if he had been moved by some new impulse or afterthought, he directed his steps once more to the Grange, where he saw young Henderson, with whom he had another private interview, of the purport of which our readers may probably form a tolerably accurate conjecture.

CHAPTER XVI. —­ Mysterious Disappearance of the Tobacco-box.

M’Gowan’s mind, at this period of our narrative, was busily engaged in arranging his plans—­for we need scarcely add here, that whether founded on justice or not, he had more than one ripening.  Still there preyed upon him a certain secret anxiety, from which, by no effort, could he succeed in ridding himself.  The disappearance of the Tobacco-box kept him so ill at ease and unhappy, that he resolved, on his way home, to make a last effort at finding it out, if it could be done; and many a time did he heartily curse his own stupidity for ever having suffered it to remain in his house or about it, especially when it was so easy to destroy it.  His suspicions respecting it most certainly rested upon.  Nelly, whom he now began to regard with a feeling of both hatred and alarm.  Sarah, he knew, had little sympathy with him; but then he also knew that there existed less in common between her and Nelly.  He thought, therefore, that his wisest plan would be to widen the breach of ill-feeling between them more and more, and thus to secure himself, if possible, of Sarah’s co-operation and confidence, if not from affection or good feeling towards himself, at least from ill-will towards her step-mother.  For this reason, therefore, as well as for others of equal, if not of more importance, he came to the determination of taking, to a certain extent, Sarah into his confidence, and thus making not only her quickness and activity, but her impetuosity and resentments, useful to his designs.  It was pretty late that night, when he reached home; and, as he had devoted the only portion of his time that remained between his arrival and bed-time, to a description of the unsettled state of the country, occasioned by what were properly called the Famine Outrages, that were then beginning to take place, he made no allusion to anything connected with his projects, to either Nelly or his daughter, the latter of whom, by the way, had been out during the greater part of the evening.  The next morning, however, he asked her to take a short stroll with him along the river, which she did; and both returned, after having had at least an hour’s conversation—­Sarah, with a flushed cheek and indignant eye, and her father, with his brow darkened, and his voice quivering from suppressed resentment; so that, so far as observation went, their interview and communication had not been very agreeable on either side.  After breakfast, Sarah put on her cloak and bonnet, and was about to go out, when her father said—­