Other eyes had been watching him as well as those of Arrah Neil, and before he had actually quitted the street the step of Mrs. White was heard upon the stairs. But ere the good landlady could reach the top, the voice of Nancy from below, exclaimed, "Here's a gentleman, ma'am, wants to speak to you!"
Arrah waited for a moment or two, in the hope that the new guest would depart, and that the hostess would pay her her accustomed visit; for, in those moments of anxious expectation and suspense, she felt the presence of any sympathising human creature a benefit and a relief. But after a while, she turned to gaze from the window again, and murmured--for she did not sing--some lines of an old song which she had learned in her infancy. As she thus sat, she heard another step upon the stairs, slower and more heavy than that of the landlady, and without giving it a second thought, she returned to sport with her own fancies, when a key was put into the lock and the door opened.
Arrah Neil started and turned round, and not a little was her surprise to see a tall, powerful, elderly man, with white hair, and deep blue eyes, the lashes of which, as well as the eyebrows, were still black, enter her chamber, fasten the door behind him, and advance towards her. She was a little frightened, and would have been more so, but there was a kindly and gentle air in the visiter's countenance which was not calculated to produce alarm; and as he came nearer, he said, "I beg your pardon, young lady, but I much wished to see you. I have not seen you for many a long year, not since you were quite a little thing."
"Then you knew me in my childhood, sir!" exclaimed Arrah, eagerly, "and----"
"You may well say that, lady," replied Hugh O'Donnell, before she could proceed. "These arms were the first that received you when you set foot upon this shore. Oh! a sorrowful landing it was, and sorrowful was the fate that followed, and sorrowful were the days that went before; and there has been little but sorrow since. But good luck to-morrow, it may bring something brighter, and the sky won't be overcast for ever, that's impossible."
"Then you are the Mr. O'Donnell of whom Mrs. White has told me." said Arrah. "Oh, sir! I beseech you, tell me more about myself and my kindred. Whosoever's child I am, let me know it. If a peasant's, say so without fear. I would rather cast away the vain but bright dreams that have haunted me so long, and fix my best affections on the memory of some good plain people, than have this wild doubt and uncertainty any longer. Tell me--tell me anything, if it be not disgraceful to the living or the dead."
"Disgraceful!" cried Hugh O'Donnell; "I should like to hear any man say that! No, no; there's nothing disgraceful, my darling; but I cannot and I must not tell you all that I could wish, young lady--not just at present, that is to say. By-and-by you will hear all."
"And in the mean time what misfortunes may befal me!" said Arrah Neil, in an earnest tone; "what misfortunes have already befallen me, which perhaps might have been averted!"
"Why, that is true, too," replied O'Donnell, after a moment's thought; "and yet it could not be helped. What to do now I cannot rightly tell; for, from what the good woman below says, old Neil, when he was dying, wished you to know all."
"I am sure he did," answered the poor girl; "but they had swept the cottage of everything, and I much fear that the papers he wished me to have fell into the hands of this old man."