This was called the terrace walk, and it was here Dennis O'Hara took his evening promenade, accompanied by the dogs.
He was a handsome, picturesque looking man, with silvery white hair, very piercing dark eyes, and aquiline features. He had a stentorian voice, which he used to good effect on all those who came within his reach; but he had also a kindly twinkle in those dark eyes, and a kindly expression round his handsome, well-cut lips, which kept the poor folks at Castle Mahun from fearing the master's indignant bursts of strong language, and which made him one of the most popular landlords all over the country.
To-night there was great excitement at Castle Mahun, for the banished princess, as the people chose to consider Bridget O'Hara, was coming home from foreign parts. Bonfires were lit all along the hills in her welcome. O'Hara had not gone himself to the nearest railway station, twenty miles off, to meet his daughter, but he knew by the thin smoke on a distant peak that the jaunting car, drawn by faithful Paddy, his favorite chestnut horse, and driven by Larry O'Connor, was bearing his darling back to him as quickly as the ill-kept roads would permit.
"She's coming, masther," shouted a ragged little urchin, dashing up to the squire, and then rushing frantically away again; "the first fire's built, and me and Molly can see the smoke. Oh, come along, Molly! and let's run down the road to ketch a sight of her. Oh, glory! the darlint! and won't we be glad to have her back again."
The child disappeared. There were some more wild shouts in the distance; a troop of children, all ragged and bronzed and barefooted, were seen rushing down the avenue, and then disappearing along the dusty road. They carried branches of trees and old kettledrums, and made a frantic noise as they ran in the direction which the jaunting car would take.
"Ah! here they are!" exclaimed Lady Kathleen from her seat on the car. "Here are your villagers, Bridget, rushing to welcome you. And do you see those fires lit in your honor? Watch the hills, child. There's a fire on every hilltop. Now you'll be yourself again."
Bridget's eyes were shining like stars. She turned and gripped Lady Kathleen's hand with a fierce embrace.
"I feel nearly mad with delight!" she exclaimed. "Oh, I say, Larry, do drive faster. Gee-up, Paddy! Gee-up, old dear! Don't you think I might take the reins, Larry? You can get down from your seat on the box, and sit here to balance Aunt Kathleen, and let me jump up and take the reins."
"To be sure, miss," said Larry. He sprang lightly from his seat, and Biddy, notwithstanding Lady Kathleen's bursts of laughter and futile objections, took the seat of honor, and with a light, smart touch of the whip sent Paddy spinning at a fine rate over the roads.
"Hurrah!" she shouted when she came in sight of the motley crowd. "Here I am back again, and driving Paddy as if I'd never set foot off Irish soil. Welcome to you all! Good-evening, Dan; how's your lame foot? Good-evening Molly, acushla macree. Good-evening, good-evening, Jane and Susan and Norah. Now, then, let me drive quickly. I must get to my daddy before I touch the hands of one of you."