"Whist!" said Pat, raising his big hand, and a look of mystery coming over his face; "whist, Norah, mavourneen, you come over here and sit nigh me, and let's talk the matter over."
CHAPTER XXV. HER MAJESTY THE WITCH.
Janet enjoyed the feeling that Bridget was now in her power. She had something of the cat nature, and she liked to torture this very fine and rare specimen of mouse which she had unexpectedly caught. She was so clever, however, that no one suspected her of anything but the heartiest friendship for Bridget. Even the squire, whose eyes were more or less opened by Evelyn's talk, and who watched Janet now with intense scrutiny, could see nothing to object to in her.
"It is a pity that other nice colleen should have those jealous thoughts," he said to himself; "that little Miss May is as nice and good-hearted a bit of a thing as I have come across for many a day. I can see by the very way she walks, and eats, and looks, that she's just devoted to Biddy; and, for the matter of that, who can wonder, for everybody likes my colleen."
The weather was very beautiful just now, and the young people spent almost all their time in the open air. Bridget, who had avoided the society of the other young folks yesterday, seemed quite to have recovered her good spirits to-day, and merry laughter made the beautiful old place seem more gay and cheerful than ever. Patrick, however, and Gerald, for some reason or other, as the day advanced, did not look quite at ease. Supper was at eight at Castle Mahun, and it was arranged that immediately after that meal the boys should row Janet over to the island and leave her there. The secret was to be revealed to no one, but for some reason it did not give them the complete satisfaction it had done yesterday.
They were kind-hearted lads, and although they had plenty of mischief in their composition, would not willingly hurt anyone. They were as superstitious as Irish lads could be, and as the fateful hour approached Patrick called his younger brother aside.
"Have you anchored the boat quite snug under the big willow," he asked, "where Uncle Dennis won't get a glimpse of it? He'd be sure to be mad if he thought we were going on Lake Crena to-night."
"And why to-night," asked Gerald, "more than any other night? The lake is as safe a place as your bed, except from September to March. Why shouldn't we have a row on Lake Crena to-night, Pat?"