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Ok Synopsis of Previous Chapters.

Ok Synopsis of Previous Chapters. -ALTERS I- at|d II.—tylrs La Roache and Claire, drive to Castle Finnbar. 'bat ?! £ eefe, the driver, refuses to be paid An,} a'Rfat. They rrive at their destination, iftly welcomed by Timothy Sullivan, the servant left at the Castle, which is Wn/B £ into ruins. From the hall Olaire and are tn'iea by ^ie crazV Sullivan to a lot bedroom, which, has not been occupied lij. 'eW over half a century. Everything Moths and bats abound. Rats Ihe « heard scuttling under the wainscoting, food "^ediate demand of the newcomers is for »hicv ^ey partake of a miserable supper, after the old man produces a pack of cards. I tBfd 6 8oon sees that he is a born gamester, and to P'ay with him. He retires muttering tlea.nce. „ CHAPTER III. Oh 7"'naatic nnd homicidal—I feared as much. jL'J'hat a place for us to come to," cried Mrs .°ache. *13 ,ar dream was a foolish one," said Claire. hought of owning an Irish cast'e #j#n were living en pension at Nice and i. Was too much for ns. An Irish castle on arth could we have been such idj crie.i the mother. What a day. What "■laioning. I thought for a moment that Cj^j^jstched old dotard meant to murder you, I'll Uftt was absurd," said Claire. lie is too JQ be able to do more than use his knife tb« °a^ °t bread. Poor old wretch. You saw ije *,e clutched the card9. The passion of |one '•be ruin of his life. Rut now he has 0(t aid we must try to make ourselves com- *«(. f°r r.ight—only one night surely lit* '3ear nP ^or one u'^t, anc' uoth'Dg else 4itf ely to happen. I will put on some more n'jand we can sleep in our chairs." aitl dying for want of sleep, but my nerves ^w00 much shaken for me to have a chance of N.a10ze-" aid Mrs Roache, with a shudder, glance in the direction of the door through Tk^r ^ad g°no 'e is nothing to be nervous about," said ^Dr reassvriugly. I will take very good care oor being disturbed in that direction," jj^^Oded, seeing her mother s glance towards the ie to drag the table across the 5? the door opeDs inward." e table was a very heavy one, but they to drag it in front of the door, and they <c, Jat all the strength which remained with *h»L • man wou'd be insuflicient to disturb such The door leading to the hall fclaire l^j*Red to make moderately secure by a method (ivj? her by her father when they had been 'ft doubtful rooms. She forced the blade ;if^*tn'fe—theknife with which Mr Sullivan had 'fooT^^ed her—into one of the joints of the H. n|an,b> thereby making a temporary bolt of Vl, '°n she threw on to the fire a few pieces of lu there was a great pile of the peat sods u ji^ner. Mtj. dear mother, you may go asleep heart beneath cur ancestral roof. I by the way, if anything of the roof re- said Clairo. are never going to extinguish the cried the mother, seeing her make a B?en'; 'ke direction of one of the sconces. ^U»' y Bot We shall not b&able to go asleep i, i* biaze of light continues," said Claire. **ia 0Q'' think of patting out a single candle," mother. If it had not been for all %bts I should have fainted an hour ago. 'W6 witl1 them burning I have fancied more *>»ce that I heard—H'sh the place is full iL^'range sounds—bat—voices— even—now— tp,11'Claire." loJ1^ both listened breathlessly—the velvety of the dropping peat ash was distinct, and ill, beyond doubt people were conversing in i. £ e*t room. Sullivan was not alone there. Servants—there may be servants in the house 8h whispered Claire. c*ept to the door and put her ear to the 8n wj^ds of converse came to her, but there was i, JL^ge of voice. *» l ^'ck> wo had the cards all onr owu time," she heard the old man say with 'a°lile. Three thousand guineas in the pool Lord Harry, there must be more than thousand. I'll wager any gentleman in a cool thousand even that diamonds next turn up. Nay, gentlemen, don't all t>n at once- Colonel, did I hear yon say fai ? Crood—done to you, sir and done to l|?! Jafif, say I. On with the deal, my noble Ha, what t The ten -diamonds— i They apologised for their iniiusion. | tv —— <«> tyj" ^akes us even, Marquis but yon owe me a to guineas. Jeff. I'm mortal concerned ^it t^er JO". Colonel, but vour pile of gold is *it 'oo high for a simple soldier of fortune, I dare swear that we'll be even with Back before the morning. I cut, do I not? ^-diamonds again. That is clear your j,'Monsieur le Marquis." Uu e °ld man was playing a game of cards with & of fifty or sixiy years before, '8"9 dealing to the ghosts of the past. He #nning or losing phantom gold. ty^dually, however, he became more quiet, heard the tinkle of glass, and after a short of silence there came the sound cf his b>?!? Piping of a song—a thing from an opera 'ticent Wallace. danced at her mother. Her piother was Si^p- r l°°ked at her in envy, knowing well herself would not tind sleeping so easy. <*{ sitting in front of the fire the legends Castle came crowding to her memory, ^o i Was 'ke story of the black Ryan Roache— hi LDtl disappeared from his home on one wild Oh, when he had returned from a horrible >n the West. He had disappeared when I- "tottyl was at its height, and no trace of him ^Ooj. e^or been found only on a plank of the ^Ust *n Iront firSDliuse, there was the impression as of a red-hot horseshoe, the aide of the window, burnt into the It work, of four long skinny fingers. 'n *bis very room that Black Ryan bad that awful night. It was before .such a ""or Deat* Claire looked searchingly at the i beside her. No doubt if it had not been ktt°egritoed the board would have revealed to ^^08 that horrible footprint. Nil,, 'ben she had recalled the legend—this '<Hlj that her mother had classed among the Ua stories—of the human skull that had down the chimney, and opening its ^ll jaws had told Hugo Roache that Crom- ftud his troopers wero on their way to be- the Castle and he tiad thereby been en- 5?l ,<j raise a force to defend it. Vefo Was a rattling in the chimney as she *bt upon the descent of the skull, and it btr start—for the warning of Hugo was SJw solitary occasion of its appearance. V 8*ar'od from her ebair. Close beside her V^ard a moau. She waited breathlessly, St ,nK, thinking of the Banshee, which had qHt. bailed through the night preceding the It a member of the family. Catne a second time, and a third, only Si She did not think of the probability h'^s sounds came from one of the night ^hich had token possession of the hall. had no experience of such things, aud ..TCjj 0 legend of the Bansbee was in her mind. h Wj 'here came 'o her ears a mysterious nR just outside the door—or was it on the side cf the door? Was it due to the I t Co of some of those invisible beings of i her father and an old Irish nurse bad to tier long ago — creatures which playad %».^Portr,nt part in the demonology of the S|jl*y ? firtened foArfully, waiting for something k r,ot what. And yet there ber mother > Jl'a&piufj Foundly besido the fire, and from loom eatric the Round of old fMilllvan s a °onP- ^H.y down once JJIOTC, for SHE was over- n the fatigues of the day, and had jj't but bread for fifteen hours. She 0* dropping oil to sleep, and she was ^L^JI ^bat she had not actually passed the between sleeping and waking when conscious of a sound that it seemed that she shonld hear in the place •l? th tbe sound of horses tramping Q or u0"1 WaK Thft old man at the other '1? Wa" sung no longer. Claire listened, U rS1 b'eath. There co:;id bono doubt **»'e sound thai catne to htr frora with- **»'e sound thai catne to htr frora with. I "e 1iIrn:t)t) of hor««. In an instant she recalled the legend of the midnight coach—the strange black vehicle drawn by eight coal-black horses, which was said to drive up to the gate of the Roache's Castle upon the midnight preceding the day of a death nnder its Toof, and from which two men descended and entered the castle without asking that a door should be opened to them their feet were heard tramping through the corridors back- ward and forward outside the room of the person for whom they bad come. She recalled the legend as it had been told to her by her father. The sonnet of the horses had come to her. Would the sound of the tramping feet of the ipidnight visits follow ? ¡' She waited, listening with painful intensity. It came to her ears. There was the noise of a footstep in the outer hall, and it was followed by a tramping as of several feet, coming nearer and nearer—gradually increasing in distinctness with every step, until it seemed that they were just outside the door of the room. And now there were tue voices of men appar- ently talking together. A loud laugh echoed down the emptv hall. With the recollection of the legend of the ¡ Black Coach in her mind she was paralysed with fear. She had the impression of being under the influence of aàreaùful nightmare, tbat forced her to 3it where she was and await the entering of the visitors. Sbe felt powerless to make aQV move to resist them. She could only sit there, a hand grasping each arm of the chair, her eyes fixed eageily upon the door. She heard the passing of a band down the side of the door-a hand that was clumsily feeling for the handle--more voices—the door was pushed open in spite of her improvised bolt, and two men appeared, They blinked-facing the light of the room. One of them had taken a step within, but with an exclamation he went back. My aunt," he said in a whisper to bis com- panion. "My aunt. The room is occupied- ladies." Mrs La Roche had awakened and was staring at the men with precisely the same expression' as her daughter wore. I Great Scott I" said the other man. Human —human females ?—not ghostly ?" He gave a furtive glance into the room, then jerked back his head, whispering Good Lord I" Claire saw the two putting their heads together, and then the first took off his cap, looking in the room, and said. ,l Pray pardon us we really bad no idea that the place was inhabited we believed that old Sullivan was alone. I do hope that we haven't frightened you. I should be so sorry." Claire drew a long breath. I don't think you frightened me very much," she said. Should we apologise for frightening you 1" The man laughed. We were only sta.rtleù," he said. We are the intruders. Really, we took it for granted that the place was uninhabitable except for rats, owls, aud old Sullivan. But perhaps, like our- selves. yon are here through having met with an accident." 01 A terribia accident," said Ciaire. We are the owners of the Castle." You cannot have been here long or we should have beard of it," said the man. We arrived early in the night, believing that the Castle was habitable," said Claire. Wo had letters from Mr Sullivan telling us that the place would be ready for our reception. We had no one to let U3 know that he was crazy." "Such a time as we have passed through," moaned TVlrs La Roache. Oh, such a time I Nothing to ent, prison fare, bread and water"- after a journey from Paris and a drive across the mountains. I am. sure that we both look like.ehiffonieres." "Heavens above I What an adventure! Awful And now., to crown all, here we come frightening the life out of you. Oh, if we had but known," said the man. This is rather an unconventional visit of ours, but after all—well, it is rather an awkward position for you to be in, and we must see what can be done to relieve it in the morning. I do hope that you will be able to snatch some sleep. You must need it." Ho showed signs of departing, but Mrs La Roache seemed reluctant to get out of touch of civilisation. She poshed away one of the chairs on which she had been lying and sat upright. She did not know that the movement had dis- lodged a strand of her hair. It fell on her shoulder, and Claire made an effort to tidy it up while her mother spoke eagerly to the vlsitors- the second man had come an inch or two out from his seclusion, being clearly interested in the situation and its development. Sleep is out of the question. Think of it, sir -8, lunatic," she said, ber voice sinking to a whisper while she gave a fearful glance toward the table piled up against the door leading to the room beyond. Think of it, we travel night and day across Ireland, across the mountains on a jolting car, and then—how could we tell that he was a lunatic? And he had written such letters." She became aware of the fact that ber daughter was tryine to arrange her hair. She tacked in the disordered tress-it was black and of a fine silken texture. Everyone said that Mrs La Roache had beautiful hair. Shocking," said the man, sympathetically. I have heard it said that luuatics write long letters. Poor old Sullivan." I never heard that if I had I might have bad a suspicion," said the lady. It is safe to suspect anyone who writes long letters—especially with promises in them," said the man, shaking his bead with sympathetic gravity. But in the morning, 1 think you will I find the situation easier in the morning. I hope that you will forgive us for intruding." He was looking towards Claiie—indeed all the time he had been looking more at her than at her mother. Mrs La Roache followed the direction of his eyes. She saw that along tress had tiuwouDd itself from the knot at the back of Claire's head, and stretched forth a hand to tuck it among the other coils. But Claire saverl her the trouble. There is no danger he was quite safe in his room," said the girl. Thank you so much for your, your inquiries. But I suppose-I think I have heard it somewhere- people are fond of visiting ruins by night." Both men laughed lightly, glancing at each other. Onr visit was an accident," said the man who had kept in the shadow. A happy accident," he added, "since-but we will look you up in the morning, if we may. I think you will find that things are not nearly so bad as they seem. You will tina Mrs Archie Brown most sympa- thetic, and her mother, Lady Innisfail." I That is what we want," cried Mrs La Roache, almost jumping from her chair in eagerness, A woman—a civilised woman—she wili under. stand." 1 think you may depend on that at least," said the same man. Queer things happen in Ireland, but—well, there are women. Ob, we are becoming intolerable. How can we ever apolo- gise. Good-night." He had already turned, and Aaa once more among tbe black shadows of the hall. Yes. that's just it," said tbe other. The sooner we ¡!o-we bave really bothered you too long. Good-night." We are so glad that you came. Everything seemed so hopeless- so ghastly. You can see the condition we are in. Good-night," said Claire. Nothing to speak of. Try to get a few hours' sleep," said he. His band was on the door. But if you go—if began Mrs LaRoache. Claire 'laid a hand upon her arm, interrupting her, and tho roan closed the door softly. The sound of footsteps were echoing hollowly down tbe ball. "What a relief," said Claire. "I feel as if all our troubles were at an end." And she did. Such is the effect of the appear- ance of a. sudden but opportune man when femi- ninity is at the end of its resources. A weight does seem lifted from ivy mind he promised that we should see a woman," said her mother. She had been married to a man for twenty-two yeais. CHAPTER IV. They awoke early in the icoutaiff fe&ling greatly refreshed. Claire was in time to inter- cept a dark-eyed, baro-legged girl carrying a can of milk through the ball. The child gazed at her. After a wide-mouthed pause of wonder she said that she was Eiley O'Leary, and that she brought Mr Sullivan milk and bread every day —he would not trust her with the bacon. No, Mr Sullivan never drank tea, but her own mother did, and there were two teapots and a kettle in the house. Sure it was only a step or I two away, the cabin, and her mother would be proud to make the lady a cup of tea. Oh, yes, there was a basin and jug in the cabin, only the jug was borrowed by Mrs Murphy and not returned, but the basin was there sure and cer- tain, because her mother mixed the flour for the potato bread in it. Clairo thought she had never seen so pretty or so intelligent a chjld. She went forth by her side and found the O'Leary's cabin on the hill side, not half a mile away. A potato patch was be«ide it. and a goat was nibbling at the already well-nibbled leaves of an nnbeioic group of cab. bages huddled away among the stacks of brown peat sods. Mrs O'Leary was a motherly woman who lifted up her hands and voice when Claire told her her story. Was there ever anything seen or heard like this since the world was a world, sbe cried. Oh, the poor dimented old gentlemen, How could such a orowl as that know about the wants of ladies ? But sure it isn't his fault, poor craytur. 'Tis mad in his mind tha.t be has be')n for the past twenty years, through living alone in the Castle with no one to look after him. Sure if I didn't send Eiler. the bit of a slip of a child, with milk and bread, and maybe a dab of butter three times a week, the poor srentleman would be starved to death entirely." So the good woman ran on nIl the time that she was blowing up the peat fire beneath the little black kettle. Himself liked a cup of tea after his stirabout in the morning, she explained to Claire, and Claire knew that she meant not Mr Sullivau but her husband—for her father I had kept her instructed in the matter of finch idioms but he had been away the best part of ,,)1 hour, or the kettle wouldn't be off the boil. And did the lady like it best wake" or sthron.w ? I Claite drank a cup of the fruitiest tea she had ever tasted, and felt more than refreshed. nnt daMivttd her in regard o the possibilities of a washing basin. It was cleared of flour and filled with soft water, and in its limpid depths Claire felt the last trace of her long journey pass from her. Mrs O'Leary knew much more of the Castle than Claire did and she was tbus prepared to state for certain that there was plenty of china and glass in some of the cupboards, and there was even a room which only needed a bit of dust- ing to make it fit for a queen to dress in but Miss La Roache's impression that Mr O'Sulli- van's bad-if he had one-was the only one in the place that could be slept in was, Mrs O'Leary assured her, correct. She went back with her to the Castle, bearing under her arm a towel and over her sborlder a stout broom, the child carrying the teapot care- fully enwrapped in an old blanket, and all the time they were walking from the cabin to the Castle, the good woman was narrating the lead- ing incidents in the life of Mr Sullivan—how it was known that he belonged to the great family of Sullivan, and had lost by gambling every acre of land that he bad ever owned and how Colonel Roache had taken pity on him and had brought him to live at Castle Finubar long ago, leaving him to take care of the place when he, Miss Roache's father, had gone ofl to make fortune in foreign parts, which she hoped the noble gentle- I man—rest his soul-had done. But poor Mr I Sullivan had gone from bad to worse after the departure of his friend and patron. He was ready to gamble the very ears off his face,Mrs O'Leaiy affirmed but the gentry around humoured I him and now-and again let him win a pound or two of their money to keep him from starvation. There could be no doubt, however, that be was a I' bit soft and light-headed, and he gave himself airs.i Ah, the sorra h, word he had said about the I coming of the ladies, poor things, a.l'\d hete thev were at the Castle, and wasn't it a grand inteu- tioned place entirely. I 1 They were soon enjoying a fine enp of tea. Alas I Alas I She and her mother had set out from Paris to take up the position of the mis- tresses of an historic house, but instead of realis- ing their intention in this respect, they Kvere in the position of dependents upon the good nature of one of the cabin-dwellers for the loan of a clean patched towel to wipe the stains of travel from their faces. But the delight of her mother to receive that towel, to be shown into a room containing a looking-glass and a basin of water, was some- thing to be thankful for. The previous night she thought that nothing could make her mother smile again but now she had opened her trunks in a room with a looking-glass, "An angel—truly an angel," cried Mrs La Roache in fawn grey, to her daughter in cream serge, when tLioy stood together over the break- fast table that Mrs O'Leary had laid out for them. Such tea—dark, strenuous, mysterious— and fresh-baked bread, with a flavour of potatoes and peat, and satin bands of bacon. A breakfast for a gourmet. Too choice for starv- ing derelicts such as we are. But Mrs O'Leary is an angel all the same." Mrs O'Leary rAttled the frying pan as she whisked it from the hob to the fender, and laughed she became voluble in her laughter, and every laugh was a protestation against the liatteiy of her ladyship. Sure if she wouldn't work her arms down to the size of knitting- needles for anyone of the name of Roache, she would be the poorest craytur' alive in Con- naught. After breakfast Mrs La Roache and her I daughter could only wait to see what would happen. Thev scarcely knew what it was they looked for-wha-t it was they hoped for. But they were both vaguely hopeful. The men who had visited them so strangely at midnight re- mained in their minds as figures that tended to make lone women confident in the correct order- ing of things in general. They were tall, fair- haired young men, with brown faces anil good- sized hands. ClAire had noticed the size and speculated upon the gripping power of their hands. That was how she felt that they would inspire confidence within her. The easy but not ostentatious frankness with which they had accepted the atrange situation of the hour struck her as being quite admirable, and the tinge of shyness that pervade their manner of speaking she bad somehow come to think of as being in- separable from achievement. These were men who did thjngs-good things or bad things—for trust,inspiring purposes. It was all the same to a woman whether a man does bad or good the potent is what appeals to her imagination, and Claire bad lived long enough in the world to become aware of the fact that the potent is rarely self-assertive; that in the presence of women it is usually shy-sometime-s apologetic. I. Who are tbey, I wonder ?" said her mother, when she was strolling with her daughter—dain- tily as regards the lifting of their skirts— imong the ruins of some of the great rooms. Who are they ? And why did they come here ?" Claire made no disguise of the fact that her thoughts were running in the same direction as those of her mother. I have been wondering," she said. It wa" part of the queerne3s of everything that they should appear when they did. I wonder what it is we are waiting for now. We have not begun to talk about onr future—you and I. We have not asked each other where we shall sleep to-night. We have ceased to care. And yet-I cannot re- member a sentence that came from them. But they made us feel at ease." That is what it is to be an Englishman," said her mother. Now if they had been French- men we should have felt annoyed if they had been Germans we should have felt angry if they had been Italians we should have felt for the fire-irons." But being Englishmen we felt at ease," said Claire with a laugh. We take no thought for the future. We know that the future is in the hands of Englishmen. Is it worth considering where we are to sleep to night ? I think not." They mentioned the names of some women- I have actually forgotten the liames-Ladv Some- thing, and-it seems ridiculous, but I am under the impression that one was Mrs Browne. Was it Browne—not Robinaon ?" asked her mother. Claire laid her hand upon her mother's arm, her head inclined somewhat toward the window. There was the sounds of wheels on the rough ground that ha.d once been a carriage drive. Listen," said Claire. That is Mrs Browne now—or is it Mrs Robinson?—and it is necessary for us to t.o downstairs to receive them. An Englishman;) homo is his castle, and an Irish. woman's castle is her home, even though it has no roof. We must receive our visitors—outside." (To be Continued.) -A.

PREMIER AND WAiTERS.

BANK CLERK JO BANKSMAN.

[No title]

J!

PONTYPRIDD JEWISH STORY.

[No title]

Y GOLOFN GYMREIG. .

RHAGRITH.

CHWERTHIN1AD.

ODL BRIODASOL

Y CELWYDDWR.

BYDDrN IESU,

YR ATjLITUD.

NANT Y TYLWYTH TEG.

[No title]

HAVERFORDWEST BURGLARY.

LOST LUGGAGE CLAIM.

ST. DAVID'S COLLEGE, LAMPETER.

SAID HE WAS WAYLAID.

[No title]

j SALE OF DRINK TO CHILDREN.

PENRHYN STRIKE.

BRISTOL PUBLICAN AND WIFE.

SALE IN PROHIBITED HOURS.

SWANSEA QUARTER SESSIONS.

FAT A LITYATAC WMTIIXER Y…

[No title]