Both from a sense of justice to the poor people concerned, and from a desire to save Sir Ulick O’Shane’s memory as far as it was in his power from reproach, Ormond determined to pay whatever small debts were due to his servants, workmen, and immediate dependents. For this purpose, when the funeral was over, he had them all assembled at Castle Hermitage. Every just demand of this sort was paid, all were satisfied; even the bare-footed kitchen-maid, the drudge of this great house, who, in despair, had looked at her poor one guinea note of Sir Ulick’s, had that note paid in gold, and went away blessing Master Harry. Happy for all that he is come home to us, was the general feeling. But there was one man, a groom of Sir Ulick’s, who did not join in any of these blessings or praises: he stood silent and motionless, with his eyes on the money which Mr. Ormond had put into his hand.
“Is your money right?” said Ormond.
“It is, sir; but I had something to tell you.”
When all the other servants had left the room, the man said, “I am the groom, sir, that was sent, just before you went to France, with a letter to Annaly: there was an answer to that letter, sir, though you never got it.”
“There was an answer!” cried Ormond, anger flashing, but an instant afterwards joy sparkling in his eyes. “There was a letter!—From whom?—I’ll forgive you all, if you will tell me the whole truth.”
“I will—and not a word of lie, and I beg your honour’s pardon, if—”
“Go on—straight to the fact, this instant, or you shall never have my pardon.”
“Why then I stopped to take a glass coming home; and, not knowing how it was, I had the misfortune to lose the bit of a note, and I thought no more about it till, plase your honour, after you was gone, it was found.”
“Found!” cried Ormond, stepping hastily up to him—“where is it?”
“I have it safe here,” said the man, opening a sort of pocket-book “here I have kept it safe till your honour came back.”