"If Roderick be still living, I shall find him one day and restore his child to him. But it must be through me that this restoration is effected; and I must at the same time offer him the means of repairing the old castle and taking up again the life of a country gentleman."
"Have you any reason to think he is living?" I asked.
"Oh, I do not know!" Niall answered mournfully. "For many years he sent remittances and inquired for the child, saying that he would one day claim her. Lately both money and letters have ceased. A rumor reached me—I scarcely know how—that Roderick had married a second wife. Even if that be true, he must have changed indeed if he can forget his own child. I am haunted forever by the fear that he may, after all, be dead; or that, living, he might one day claim Winifred and take her away from Ireland forever. And that I will never permit."
I was half afraid of another outbreak; but it did not come. He went on, in a calm and composed tone of voice:
"I must confess that when I heard you were here—"
"You fancied, perhaps, that I was the second wife?" I said, smiling.
"What I fancied matters little!" he cried, almost brusquely. "But I made up my mind that if you had come here on such a mission, you should return disappointed."
"Now, I may as well admit," I said deliberately, "that I have had thoughts of carrying Winifred away."
He started.