"Not altogether bad, Tim," said Lesbia gently, "my mother was deceived. Did she tell Bridget my father's name?"

"No, Miss," said Tim promptly, "had she towld, I'd have larned it whin me own mother died, and thin I'd have asked his lardship to take ye from this divil--ut's the masther I mane. But me mother sid nothin' for she knew nothin', save what she towld ye about the crass. 'And,' ses me mother to me whin she guv ye the crass, there'll be throuble over yon crass,' ses she, 'fur th' Sight's on me being near me latter end,' ses she. 'Throuble there'll be over the crass, an' sorrow an' tears an' sudden death. But thim who love will win clear and thim as is bad will come to the black grave.'"

"There has been trouble certainly, Tim," said Lesbia sighing, "and the cross both began it and ended it, as your mother declared it would. But now, thank God," she turned to place her arms round George's neck, "it's all over and we shall have no more. Your mother prophesied rightly, Tim, save that there has been no sudden death or black grave, and there isn't likely to be."

Tim rocked and shook his huge head. "Thim as is goin' to their long rest sees things as thim aloive can't get a squint at. Me mother foresaw th' sorrow an' tears av th' crass an' the joy which ye an' Masther Garge there have now, good luck to both ay ye! So the sudden death an' the black grave will come I doubt not. But here, me dears," said Tim, after a pause, "there's wan thing ye don't know as I'll tell ye."

"And what is that?" asked George, smiling.

"'Twas me, Masther Garge, as carried ye from the river bank to the room in yonder," Tim nodded towards the cottage. "I wor out fishin' an' I saw ye in the moonlight lying on the path, though be me sowl I nivir dreamed 'twas you. I rowed ashore an' found ye stunned an' bound, bad luck to the divil who did ut! I tuke ye into the cottage and called softly to the young misthress there. She thought 'twas a drame an' come down to see to you. An' now ye know, both av ye."

Lesbia and George looked at one another in astonishment. "Why didn't you tell us this before?" asked Walker sharply. "And why did you bring me to the cottage?"

"Sure now," said Tim in injured tones, "didn't I think as 'twas the masther had been up to some divilment, and didn't dare spake in case he'd get Miss Lesbia clapped into gaol 'longside him? But I knew as the masther wud nivir dare to harrum ye in his own house wid Miss Lesbia by the side av ye, an' so I brought ye here into his very jaws as it wor. An' wasn't I right, me dear sor?"

"Yes," assented Walker promptly, "I think you were. It was very clever of you to have protected me in that way, even though it was Canning and not Hale who assaulted me. Well, Lesbia," he turned to the girl, "here is another thing made clear. Quite a surprise."

"I hope it is the last surprise," said the girl, wearily, "I am very tired of being surprised."