That night I was awakened by the crying in the shrubbery outside which I had not heard for a long time, and I listened to it, cold in the darkness, till the cocks began crowing and then it ceased. I knew that the ghosts always came for trouble at Aghadoe, and I prayed hard that the trouble might be only mine and might spare the two dear old people. The thought of Theobald, and that I had not even noticed the absence of his letters, stung me sharply. What if harm should come to Theobald? As the cocks crew and the grey turned to blue and then to gold in the room, I lay staring up at the ceiling, praying that harm had not come to Theobald, that he might be well and happy although I must be miserable for ever.
CHAPTER XX
AN EAVESDROPPER
The morning sun was in my room when I awoke and my godmother was by my bed.
"You have been crying in your sleep, Bawn," she said. "I thought I heard you several times during the night, but was not sure. Are you anxious about Theobald, child?"
"There is some trouble in the air," I said, turning away my head. "But I don't think it was I who cried."
"I would not say that to Lady St. Leger, Bawn," she said, lifting my face and making me look at her.
"It is not for a death," I said, "or we should have heard the coach."