"Dick has told you much, but not all. You none of you know the reasons we had for acting as we did. But you know him well enough to believe that it needed very strong reasons to induce him to allow me take the blame. If anyone has aught to say in the matter, I shall be glad if he will say it to me—now!" His eyes flashed menacingly as they swept the company, and rested for an instant on O'Hara's unyielding countenance. Then he turned and held out his hand to his brother with his own peculiarly wistful smile.
"Can you bear to speak to me?" muttered Richard, with face averted.
"Gad, Dick, don't be ridiculous!" He grasped the unwilling hand. "You would have done the same for me!"
Andrew pressed forward.
"Well, I can see no use in raking up old scores! After all, what does it matter? It's buried and finished. Here's my hand on it, Dick! Lord! I couldn't turn my back on the man I've lived on for years!" He laughed irrepressibly, and wrung Richard's hand.
My lord's eyes were on O'Hara, pleading. Reluctantly the Irishman came forward.
"'Tis only fair to tell you, Richard, that I can't see eye to eye with Andrew, here. However, I'm not denying that I think a good deal better of ye now than I did—seven years ago."
Richard looked up eagerly.
"You never believed him guilty?"
O'Hara laughed.