(The chieftain, when interested or excited, sometimes slipped into dialect.)
“Indeed!” exclaimed Stuart, rather mystified, for he did not as yet see the road to the royal alliance.
“Now then,” continued The O’Melaghlin, “that marriage was the first step, as I said. Nearly two centuries passed before the second step was taken. But then, centuries don’t count for much with old historic families whose origin is only lost in the ancient, prehistoric ages. It was in the year 1380, in the reign of Robert the Second, King of Scotland, that Randolph of Arghalee married the Lady Grauch, daughter of the Earl of Fife, who was the second son of the reigning monarch. D’ye moind, that’s where the r’yal blood comes in, and our kinship, more betoken! So shake hands upon it, Wolfscliff.”
Stuart good-humoredly put out his hand, already half crippled by O’Melaghlin’s first clasp, and received a second crushing grip.
“And now will you kindly inform me how I can be of service to you?” inquired the host.
“Thank you, sir, certainly. I wish to find my children, Michael and Judith. I was told by Mr. Walling that you would be able to give me their exact address, which he said was in London somewhere, but he could not tell where.”
While The O’Melaghlin spoke Stuart stared and Palma laughed. She felt a child’s delight at his astonishment in discovering that The O’Melaghlin was the father of Michael Man and Judith Hay.
“Oh!” said the visitor, “you are surprised, sure, to hear me say this, but they are my children, for all that I have never set eyes on them in my life. It was not my fault, but the fate made by circumstances, that kept us apart. It is a painful story, sir, that I may tell you later at your convenience. Now I wish to ask you where, in all the great wilderness of London, I may find my children.”
“Nowhere in London. They are not there. They have changed their plans, and will remain for some time to come at Haymore Hall.”
“Surely I thought they were going to London for private tuition.”