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Fenton the ragged and gigantic robber, who was so much changed by famine and misery that he did not know him the stranger his daughter Ginty Cooper, the fortune-teller Lord Cullamore the terrible pistol at his brain Dunroe and all those who were more or less concerned in or affected by his schemes, flitted through his disturbed fancy like the figures in a magic lantern, rendering his sleep feverish, disturbed, and by many degrees more painful than his waking reflections.
But this Norton, I am anxious to see him, Dunroe will you request him to call upon me to-morrow at twelve o'clock? of course, I feel desirous to make the acquaintance of a man who has proved himself such a warm and sterling friend to my son." "Undoubtedly, my lord, he shall attend on you I shall take care of that.
In the meantime, if he be a clerk, he is certainly an impostor of the most consummate art, for assuredly so gentlemanly a scoundrel I have never yet come in contact with. But, good heavens! if such a report should have gone abroad concerning that stiff-necked and obstinate girl, her reputation and prospects in life are ruined forever. What would Dunroe say if he heard it? as it is certain he will.
When she had gone, he sat down to his desk, and without losing a moment sent a note to Dunroe, of which the following is a copy: "My dear Lord Dunroe, I am happy to tell you that Lucy is getting on famously.
Norton; but I have been for some time past in delicate health, and am not now so capable of bearing the trip as formerly. Still I feel no reason to complain, although far from strong. Dunroe, I perceive, is reduced considerably by his wound and the consequent confinement." "Oh, naturally, of course, my lord; but a few days now will set him upon his legs." "That, it seems to me, Mr.
"Unless," observed Birney, "you have been more successful at home than I have been abroad. Any trace of Mrs. Norton?" "None whatsoever. But, my dear Birney, what you tell me is surprisingly mysterious. How could Dunroe become aware of the existence of these documents? or, indeed, of our proceedings at all? And who is this Mulholland you speak of that accompanied him?"
"Ah, I see, Dunroe, and I bitterly regret to see it this fellow, this Norton, has succeeded in gaining over you that iniquitous ascendancy which the talented knave gains over the weak and unsuspicious fool. Pardon me, for I speak plainly.
Upon your own showing my daughter will have little that she ought to regret in escaping Dunroe." "And Dunroe would have much to be thankful to God for in securing your daughter. But, Sir Thomas Gourlay, I will be candid and open with you.
"Oh, ay; the old peer," replied his lordship, in a languid voice, "coming as a missionary to reform the profane and infidel. I wish he would let me alone, and subscribe to the Missionary Society at once." "But, my dear Dunroe, are you asleep?" "Very nearly, I believe. I wish I was." "But what's to be done with certain of these pictures? You don't intend his lordship should see them, I hope?"
"Thomas Gourlay." This precious epistle Dunroe found upon his table after returning from his ride in the Phoenix Park; and having perused it, he immediately rang for Norton, from whom he thought it was much too good a thing to be concealed. "Norton," said he, "I am beginning to think that this black fellow, the baronet, is not such a disgraceful old scoundrel as I had thought him.
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