"Charity child, indade! Bless her, bless her! Why, I—I'd just die for the likes uf her," said one of the men; and these remarks were echoed by both men and women. "Their darling—their Miss Maureen—their purty—purty wan! Why, now, ain't she just the light o' our eyes," said one and all.
And meanwhile the dinner for the poor Rector was being destroyed in the oven, the potatoes and peas were overboiled, and all that remained of Maureen's nice dinner was a glass dish of piled-up strawberries and a dish of cream.
"May the Vargin help me! The duck is done to rags!" cried Pegeen. "Whativer now will Miss Maureen say, and the masther may be back, bate out, anny minit. Oh, worra, worra, whativer am I to do?"
"I'll kill a fresh wan for yez and pluck it, and ye can push it in the oven," offered an affectionate gardener, who, according to the Irish way, preferred any business to his own.
Meanwhile Maureen went rapidly on her way. There was not a bit of the country that she did not know as though it were a map stretched out before her. She was therefore able to take several short cuts through woods rich with summer foliage, where periwinkles and other flowers of all sorts and descriptions grew in abundance, where moss pressed softly under her feet, where the birds sang, the doves cooed, and all nature was at rest and peace.
At another time Maureen would have stood silent in the midst of the wood and clasped her hands and thanked God for His beautiful world, but she was too anxious to do anything of the sort now. She must at any risk, at any cost, save step-auntie. She was a very quick walker for her age, and got over the ground in great style. Suddenly she found herself close to Rathclaren, having gone most of the way through shady woods and dells. Close to the gates of Rathclaren she distinctly saw the marks of horses' hoofs, but as she examined them they seemed to be going away from the stately old place. There was a decided scuffle at the beginning of a boreen or lane, and then the marks of the said hoofs going very fast indeed.
Maureen clasped her hands in distraction. She knew this boreen. It was one of the most dangerous in the neighbourhood, and led straight to the great bog of Anniskail. Suddenly she saw two men coming to meet her; one was Colonel Herbert, who was always a special friend of hers, and the other was poor Jacobs, who looked absolutely wild with distraction and fear.
"Where have you dropped from, baby?" said the pleasant voice of the Colonel.
"Oh—oh, Colonel Herbert," gasped Maureen, "I know a little bit about horses, being trained when I was in India, and—and I'm so terrified about Auntie!—And what are you doing here, Jacobs?" The child's voice got quite angry. "Why ever are you not with your mistress?"