“By his hands—by the whiteness of his beautiful hands. Now, Lanigan, Sir Robert, aware that he cannot act the tyrant at present, as he used to do, will instigate my father to some act of outrage against him; for you know, Lanigan, how cowardly, how cruel, how vindictive, the detestable villain is; and most assuredly he will make my credulous and generous, but hot-tempered, father the instrument of his vengeance upon Reilly; and, besides, he will certainly urge him to bring about an immediate marriage between himself and me, to which, it is true, I would, and will die, sooner than consent. I will dine here, Lanigan, for I cannot bear to look upon my dear father, whom I am about to—” Here her tears interrupted her, and she could proceed no farther; at length she recovered herself, and resumed: “I know,” she added, “that Whitecraft is now detailing his discovery and his plans. Oh!! that, for Reilly's sake, I could become acquainted with them!”
“What would you wish for dinner, Miss Folliard?” asked Lanigan calmly.
“For dinner? oh, any thing, any thing; I care not what; but see Reilly, tell him I have a second key for the back gate in the garden, and also for the front; and, Lanigan—”
“Well, Miss Folliard; but, for God's sake, don't cry so; your eyes will get red, and your father may notice it.”
“True, thank you, Lanigan; and Reilly, besides, told me to keep myself calm; but how can I, Lanigan? Oh, my father! my beloved father! how can I abandon—desert him? No, Lanigan, I will not go; say to Reilly—say I have changed my mind; tell him that my affection for my father has overcome my love for him; say I will never marry—that my heart is his, and never will or can be another's. But then again—he, the noble-minded, the brave, the generous, the disinterested—alas! I know not what to do, Lanigan, nor how to act. If I remain here, they will strive to force this odious marriage on me; and then some fearful catastrophe will happen; for, sooner than marry Whitecraft, I would stab either him or myself. Either that, Lanigan, or I should go mad; for do you know, Lanigan, that there is insanity in our family, by my father's side?”
“Unfortunately I know it, Miss Folliard; your uncle died in a mad-house, and it was in that way the estate came to your father. But remember what you say Mr. Reilly told you; be calm; I will send up some light nourishing dinner to you, at the usual hour; and in the meantime I will see him before then, and forge some excuse for bringing it up myself.”
“Stay, Lanigan, I am sadly perplexed; I scarcely know what I say; I am in a state of inconceivable distraction. Suppose I should change my mind; it is not unlikely; I am whirled about by a crowd of contending emotions; but—well—let me see—oh, yes—it will be as well, Lanigan, to have two horses ready saddled; that is no crime, I hope, if we should go. I must, of course, put on my riding habit.”
“Begging your pardon, Miss Folliard, you'll do no such thing; would you wish to have yourself discovered in the first inn you might put up at? No, dress yourself in one of Connor's dresses so that you may appear as humble as possible, and any thing but a lady of rank; otherwise, it will be difficult for you to escape observation.”
“Well, Lanigan, all I can say is, that he and I shall place ourselves under your advice and guidance. But my father—oh, my dear father!” and again she wrung her hands and wept bitterly.
“Miss Helen,” said he, “as sure as the Lord's in heaven, you will discover yourself; and, after all, how do you know that Sir Robert has found out Mr. Reilly? Sure it's nothing but bare suspicion on both your parts. At any rate, I'll saddle Paudeen O'Rafferty wid my own hands, and I'll put on Molly Crudden's big pillion, for you know she's too fat to walk to mass, and you will feel yourself quite easy and comfortable in it”