"He didn't think of her and that's the truth," said Fergus. "But I _did_ think of her," said John Mansfield. "She's the light of my heart--the joy of my life. Haven't I trained her and loved her and taught her since her father's death when she was barely two years of age? I had hard work to bring Priscilla round to my keeping her at all, but now--now she's my sunshine and joy and you want to take her from me. Don't you think you're a cruel man, Mr. Desmond?" "No I don't; I'm thinking that the old man won't live long. I expect it is a bit of a sacrifice to you, John Mansfield, but you might think of the old who have so few days before them. And the little one shall have every care and be well taught and even have a dowry provided for her. I am sure your wife would give her consent, and she's _her_ niece--not yours--John Mansfield." "That's true; Priscilla wouldn't mind," said Mansfield. "She'd be glad to get rid of her." "Then, man, whyever do you hesitate? You are only her uncle by marriage. You can't keep her away from her grandfather if he wants her." John Mansfield rose from his seat and walked to the window. He stood there for some time, looking out with a very steady and fixed gaze. At the end of that time the cloud which had covered his brow disappeared. Then he went up to Desmond and laid his delicate and refined hand on the other man's shoulder. "I won't say any longer that you are doing a cruel thing," he said, "but if it's a case of adoption, I must get Priscilla's leave, and I must go to the present Comte St. Juste and see what he says about his son's child being adopted by the Desmonds. If it's done it must be done properly." "I'm willing; I'm quite willing," said Fergus. "Where does the Comte St. Juste live?" "At a place called Arles in France. There's the old château still standing and I'm told they are terribly poor, but the child belongs to them as much as to you. I hear they are greedy, too; they may want a hit of money to give her up." "John Mansfield," said Fergus, "if you lend me fifty pounds you and I might go together to see the Comte St. Juste and I'll pay it back to you as sure as I am a Desmond of Desmondstown when I return home again. Let us start at once, my good sir. You'll help me to get the little one for my father." "I got my quarter's income yesterday," said John Mansfield. "I must keep some of it to live on, but I can let you have thirty pounds. I didn't know when I sent my little treasure to Desmondstown that it would come to this. You must do with thirty pounds, Fergus Desmond, I can't spare any more." "I'll do with thirty pounds," said Desmond. "Very well; we'll start for London to-night. This is the room where she and I were so happy together. Here is the little shelf where she kept her Latin and Greek books." "My good gracious, you didn't teach her the dead languages?" said Fergus. "I did, for certain. She was the aptest little pupil you could find in your march through life."