"And I don't wonder," replied Bobbo; "when he could do what he did yesterday, he could do anything. Why, if it wasn't for him being so unjust, poor Royal would be safe away with you, instead of—"
"I don't think he has ever done anything but make people unhappy all his life!" said Winnie, her tears overflowing again as she spoke. "Even poor little Frankie, he made him miserable the last time he was here, and if it hadn't been for him, we might have been there at least to say good-by."
Still an hour afterwards, when Winnie and Bobbo, feeling that they must do something, went to see the cows milked, and Murtagh was left alone, misgivings, which took the form of a natural shrinking from what he was going to do, assailed his mind. He tried to combat his doubts. This was a right and a great thing to do. It was a just retribution that Mr. Plunkett should be shot with the very gun he had used against Royal. All the people would be able to spend this winter in their homes. If Frankie could know things, he would be glad.
Instinctive right was strong enough within him, however, to make it impossible for him to feel quite clear, and it was with a sense of relief that he saw the carriage coming up the avenue, and ran to the hall door to meet it.
There were a great many parcels to be taken out, and before they were all disposed of Winnie and Bobbo made their appearance.
"Oh, Winnie!" cried Rosie, "Nessa has chosen such pretty hats for us! Ellie is to have a little round one, but we are to have felts turned up at one side, with a long black feather going right down over our hair."
Winnie looked at her in astonishment. "I do believe," she began contemptuously; but whatever she had been going to say was apparently too bitter, for she broke off suddenly and turned away while her eyes filled with tears.
Rosie reddened so painfully that Nessa felt quite sorry for her, and giving her some parcels asked her to take them to her bedroom; Rosie escaped up-stairs, and Nessa soon followed to take off her things.
Murtagh had decided yesterday evening that the time to possess himself of the gun would be while Mr. Plunkett was down at supper. And as that hour approached all doubts were thrown aside, and his heart beat high in anticipation.
It was already dusk, so he went out into the park, and hovered about near the Red House till the ringing of the supper bell announced that his time had come. Then it was the work of a minute to climb on the roof of the dairy, and from thence into Mr. Plunkett's dressing-room, the window of which was shutterless. He knew the gun was kept in a cupboard in the corner among walking-sticks and fishing-tackle. He found it in its usual place, also the cartridges belonging to it, possessed himself of both, and noiselessly let himself down again on to the dairy roof. In another minute he was safe outside the garden, hurrying away towards the island.