"Certainly."
"You didn't take any shape?"
"Only that of the mad schoolmaster," Niall explained, with a grim smile.
"So that's who he was, praise and glory to God!" cried the simple old woman. "And I to be afeard of him when he'd come hauntin' the house at all hours and goin' on with his quare ways! But sure I might have known—indeed I might!"
Granny had known Niall in his younger days, before his departure for the East; but after his mysterious return she, being blind, had never been able to recognize him, and he had purposely kept her in ignorance. She had therefore shared all the misgivings of the countryside in regard to the treasure-seeker, who from the nature of his pursuits had sought to conceal his identity.
The tears rolled down the old man's cheeks and he made more than one vain attempt to speak; while Winifred patted his arm, saying:
"Don't cry, dear Niall—don't cry! We have my father back again."
At last, mastering his emotion by an effort, and looking into the handsome, kindly face before him, Niall spoke:
"I knelt to you just now as to the head of our house, the representative of the elder branch; but I should have knelt as a penitent."
"A penitent!" repeated Roderick, in surprise.