"He's a burglar like as not," thought Hannah, but there was something so masterful and big and grave about this dark-eyed man that she could not by any possibility attempt to oppose him. She accordingly put him into the study and a few minutes later John Mansfield entered the room. John Mansfield was thought a tall man by his English parishioners, but as he crossed the room to welcome the stranger, who was totally and completely a stranger to him, he looked small by comparison with Fergus Desmond. Fergus, however, was immediately fired by that curious admiration for the man himself, which all those who knew him felt. There was, according to Phinias, "the spiritual eye" very distinctly visible in John Mansfield. "I must introduce myself," said Fergus. "I am an Irishman." "Ah, to be sure, sit down, won't ye?" said John Mansfield. His heart gave a thump in his breast. Ireland for him at that moment only meant Desmondstown, where his little Margot, his little treasure, was staying. "And my name," continued Fergus, dropping into a chair, "is Fergus Desmond." "Not--not of Desmondstown!" gasped John Mansfield. "My God, speak the truth at once, lad--not of Desmondstown?" "Yes, of Desmondstown, where else?" "Then you have brought bad news--something has gone wrong with my--my little darling." "No, sir, nothing has gone wrong. Ease your mind, once and for all. The child has won the love of everyone in the house, and The Desmond and Madam they want to keep her. That's what I've come about, Mr. Mansfield. For the matter of that, you are my brother-in-law, sir. You have married my sister Priscilla." "I have so," said Mansfield, "and she's a good woman." "She's not at home now, is she?" asked Fergus. "No, thank the--I mean she won't be back for over a week, Mr. Desmond." "You had best call me Fergus, John," said the other man. "If you like it, I will, but it don't seem fair. I never set myself up to be one of your class." "Well, never mind that, you are married to my eldest sister and you are a good man; I can see that by your face." "I try my best, Mr. Fergus, but we are none of us good. There's a heavy load of sin on us all, and I'm no better than my neighbours." "You ask Phinias Maloney and he'll tell you a very different story," said Fergus, a grim smile passing over his stern features. "Ah, Phinias," said John Mansfield. "He always had the heart of the matter in him. But tell me again what you have come about, Mr. Fergus. You don't want to take my girleen from me." "That's what I do want. Tell me truthfully, does her aunt love the child?" "I can't say that she does," replied John Mansfield, "but discipline is good for us all." "Well now, listen to me, John Mansfield. The Desmond is getting old and when an old man sets his heart on a thing, it's bad--it's terribly bad to upset him. Let him have all his wishes until the breath leaves his body." "Sir, why didn't The Desmond write about little Margot before now?"