“Had I not better give him money?” suggested Neville.

“No,” said the priest shaking his head.

“Certainly,” said Captain O’Hara.

“If you will leave this place at once,” said Neville, “and come to me to-morrow morning at the Ennis barracks, I will give you money.”

“Give him none,” said Mrs. O’Hara.

“My beloved is unreasonable.  You would not be rid of me even were he to be so hard.  I should not die.  Have I not proved to you that I am one whom it is hard to destroy by privation.  The family has been under a cloud.  A day of sunshine has come with this gallant young nobleman.  Let me partake the warmth.  I will visit you, Mr. Neville, certainly;—­but what shall be the figure?”

“That will be as I shall find you then.”

“I will trust you.  I will come.  The journey hence to Ennis is long for one old as I am, and would be lightened by so small a trifle as—­shall I say a bank note of the meanest value.”  Upon this Neville handed him two bank notes for L1 each, and Captain O’Hara walked forth out of his wife’s house.

“He will never leave you now,” said the priest.

“He cannot hurt me.  I will arrange with some man of business to pay him a stipend as long as he never troubles our friend here.  Though all the world should know it, will it not be better so?”

Great and terrible is the power of money.  When this easy way out of their immediate difficulties had been made by the rich man, even Mrs. O’Hara with all her spirit was subdued for the moment, and the reproaches of the priest were silenced for that hour.  The young man had seemed to behave well, had stood up as the friend of the suffering women, and had been at any rate ready with his money.  “And now,” he said, “where is Kate?” Then Mrs. O’Hara took him by the hand and led him into the bedroom in which the poor girl had buried herself from her father’s embrace.  “Is he gone?” she asked before even she would throw herself into her lover’s arms.

“Neville has paid him money,” said the mother.

“Yes, he has gone,” said Fred; “and I think,—­I think that he will trouble you no more.”

“Oh, Fred, oh, my darling, oh, my own one.  At last, at last you have come to me.  Why have you stayed away?  You will not stay away again?  Oh, Fred, you do love me?  Say that you love me.”

“Better than all the world,” he said pressing her to his bosom.

He remained with her for a couple of hours, during which hardly a word was said to him about his marriage.  So great had been the effect upon them all of the sudden presence of the Captain, and so excellent had been the service rendered them by the trust which the Captain had placed in the young man’s wealth, that for this day both priest and mother were incapacitated from making their claim with the vigour and intensity of purpose which they would have shewn had Captain O’Hara not presented himself at the cottage.