The candles had been put out, and the gloom of the room was only lightened by a single bed-room taper, which, as it stood near the door, only served to render palpable the darkness of the further end of the chamber.  For half an hour Lord Cashel walked to and fro, anxious, wretched, and in doubt, instead of going to his room.  How he wished that Lord Ballindine had married his ward, and taken her off six months since!—­all this trouble would not then have come upon him.  And as he thought of the thirty thousand pounds that he had spent, and the thirty thousand more that he must spend, he hurried on with such rapidity that in the darkness he struck his shin violently against some heavy piece of furniture, and, limping back to the candlestick, swore through his teeth—­“No, not a penny, were it to save him from perdition!  I’ll see the sheriff’s officer.  I’ll see the sheriff himself, and tell him that every door in the house—­every closet—­every cellar, shall be open to him.  My house shall enable no one to defy the law.”  And, with this noble resolve, to which, by the bye, the blow on his shin greatly contributed, Lord Cashel went to bed, and the house was at rest.

About nine o’clock on the following morning Lord Kilcullen was still in bed, but awake.  His servant had been ordered to bring him hot water, and he was seriously thinking of getting up, and facing the troubles of the day, when a very timid knock at the door announced to him that some stranger was approaching.  He adjusted his nightcap, brought the bed-clothes up close to his neck, and on giving the usual answer to a knock at the door, saw a large cap introduce itself, the head belonging to which seemed afraid to follow.

“Who’s that?” he called out.

“It’s me, my lord,” said the head, gradually following the cap.  “Griffiths, my lord.”

“Well?”

“Lady Selina, my lord; her ladyship bids me give your lordship her love, and would you see her ladyship for five minutes before you get up?”

Lord Kilcullen having assented to this proposal, the cap and head retired.  A second knock at the door was soon given, and Lady Selina entered the room, with a little bit of paper in her hand.

“Good morning, Adolphus,” said the sister.

“Good morning, Selina,” said the brother.  “It must be something very particular, which brings you here at this hour.”

“It is indeed, something very particular.  I have been with papa this morning, Adolphus:  he has told me of the interview between you last night.”

“Well.”

“Oh, Adolphus! he is very angry—­he’s—­”

“So am I, Selina.  I am very angry, too;—­so we’re quits.  We laid a plan together, and we both failed, and each blames the other; so you need not tell me anything further about his anger.  Did he send any message to me?”

“He did.  He told me I might give you this, if I would undertake that you left Grey Abbey to-day:”  and Lady Selina held up, but did not give him, the bit of paper.