Only Pat O'Toole did not stir. He stood facing Mr. Plunkett. From the gate Murtagh called to him. Then he turned and followed the others, but before leaving the yard he stopped, and shaking his fist at Mr. Plunkett, he exclaimed passionately:
"You shall repent this evening's work; ye haven't struck Pat O'Toole for nothing."
"Come, Royal; loose him, good dog!" cried Winnie. The dog trotted after them, and the whole troop of children disappeared into the darkness.
CHAPTER XIX.
That evening Cousin Jane's proposal to take Winnie and Murtagh with her to the south of England was discussed, and of course accepted. She intended to spend a few days at Castle Blair, and to start on the first of November.
Frankie was in a state of exceeding delight at the prospect, and was eager to talk over the plan with his little cousins. But the bright red spots upon his cheeks and the feverish brilliancy of his eyes drew many anxious glances from his mother, and she coaxed him not to wait up for them. "Every one was tired with traveling," she said; so the drawing-room party dispersed at an early hour.
Nessa was glad to be free. She went at once to the schoolroom and found that the children had had their tea. Rosie and Bobbo were lolling by the fire discussing the events of the day. Royal was lying curled up on the hearth-rug, and Winnie had made a pillow of his body, but she was silent. Murtagh was at the piano composing a battle piece.
He ceased as Nessa entered, and threw himself near her chair.
"Have you seen Mr. Plunkett?" she asked.