“Mind, Barry,” said he, “I allow no one on the road that leads up to Kilgorman. No one is to go to the house on any excuse. If my orders are disobeyed, he who trespasses will be sorry for it.”
This had prevented my going near the place since. But now I followed the little mistress I felt myself in another case, and, any way, Gorman or no Gorman, I was not going to let her go alone.
The year and a half had made little change about the place. Only I noticed some wheel-ruts on the road that were not old, and saw, as we came nearer, that the window over the porch had been mended.
As we entered the avenue, Miss Kit reined up for me to approach.
“It’s a finer house than Knockowen,” said she. “I never saw it so near before. Why does my father hate it so?”
“’Deed I cannot say, but it’s certain he does hate it.”
“Help me down, Barry, and fasten the horses. Where do we go in?”
“Faith, that’s the puzzle. When I came before I got in by yon window.”
She laughed as she looked up.
“You’ll have to go the same way again,” said she, “and I’ll wait here till you open the door for me.”