After chatting for some time longer, Desmond took his leave and returned to Cork.

Mike was standing at the door of the inn.

“I have had no success, Mike.  Have you fared better?”

“I have not found her yet, your honour, but I have great hopes of doing so.  Larry Callaghan died four years ago, and the woman of the house she occupied said that Mrs. Rooney moved, with his widow and children, to some other part of the town.  She knew little about them, seeing that she only went into the house after they had left; but her husband worked in the same yard as Larry did, and she thought that he would be able to find out, from some of the old hands, where the widow Callaghan had moved to.  She said she would ask her husband when he came home to his dinner, and maybe he would be able to give her some news.

“And so, your honour has learned nothing about yourself?”

“Nothing, Mike, except that I am certainly not the son of Murroch Kennedy, who was a cousin of the gentleman I called on.  I was assured that he was a single man, when he went to France.  However, he gave me a list of the principal branches of the Kennedy family, but there is no hurry about starting to see them, and I will certainly wait here till you find your sister, which should not be many days, for some of Callaghan’s fellow workmen are almost sure to know where his widow lives.”

Mike went out, at seven o’clock that evening, and returned half an hour later.

“I have got the address, your honour.  She and the widow Callaghan have got a little place outside the town, and take in washing there, and are going on nicely.”

“I am pleased to hear it, I am sure, Mike.  I have but small hope that she will be able to give any useful information, but for your sake, I am glad that you have found a sister whom you have not seen for so many years.  I suppose you will go up there, at once.”

“I will that.  They will have done their work, and we shall have a comfortable talk, whereas she would not thank me if I were to drop in when she was busy at the washtub.”

“Well, you might ask her to come down, tomorrow morning, to see me.  Of course, she shall not be a loser by giving up her morning’s work.”

“Whisht, your honour!  When she knows how much you have done for me, and how you have treated me, she would willingly lose a week’s work to give you pleasure.  Well, I will be off at once.”

It was eleven o’clock before Mike returned.

“We have had a great talk, your honour, me and Norah.  She would not believe at first that I was her brother, and in truth, I found it hard to credit that she was Norah, who was a purty colleen when I saw her last; but when we had convinced each other that we were both who we said we were, matters went on pleasantly.  I told her some of my adventures with you, and that, by the same token, I had a hundred gold pieces that the Baron of Pointdexter had given