"Kerry! I want to speak to you."
The change in her tone struck him at once, and he peered sharply into her fresh face with his bleared eyes. A look of wonder stole into them at the sight of her white cheeks, and he crossed himself before replying so as to avert any evil that might befall. Kerry always lived in a state of suspense, waiting for a bolt from the blue. Jenny's scared face almost assured him that it had fallen.
"What is it, alannah?" he asked, pausing at the gate. "Is anything wrong?"
"Oh, no! nothing is wrong, Kerry! What could be wrong?" said Jenny nervously; "only papa has a visitor."
"Augh! His riverence?"
"No; not the vicar. A stranger—or at least almost a stranger," she said, half to herself. "It is many years since Mr. Hilliston came here."
"Mr. Hilliston!" cried Kerry, with an ashen face. "The black curse on him and his! What is he doing with the master?"
"I don't know, Kerry," replied Jenny, rather astonished at the old man's vehemence; "he has been with father over two hours."
"And I was sent away," muttered Kerry, under his breath. "Sorrow befall you, black attorney that you are. Never did you cross a threshold without bringing grief to all hearts. It was an evil day we saw you, and an evil day when we see you again."
He uplifted his hands as though about to invoke a curse on Hilliston, then, unexpectedly letting them fall, he turned sharply on Jenny.