Matilda had in reality hardly touched her dinner. She felt her head in a whirl and her limbs aching. The strangely fierce appearance of The Desmond at the head of the board terrified her beyond speaking. "Now, we'll soon get it over," said Malachi. "Here you are, Till, shaking a bit, well, I'll take your little hand. Come along, you know old Malachi well enough by this time." "I can't--I won't--I can't!" sobbed Tilly. "For the Lord's sake don't have that girl howling in my presence," said The Desmond. "She's not howling really, father. She's only bringing you a little present. She's taken a mighty fancy to you, dad, and she wants to give you this little parcel with her humble respects." "I don't mind taking presents if they are properly earned and suitable," said The Desmond. "What's the matter with ye, colleen? I'm not a bear or a lion." "To be sure no, dad, ye are the finest man in Kerry." By this time Malachi and Tilly were standing by The Desmond's chair. Tilly thrust the little packet of pins into the old man's hands and then tried to escape, but she was surrounded on all sides, and finally it was Mr. Flannigan who brought her back to stand by The Desmond's side and watch his face as he opened the paper which contained the strange gift. "Pins!" he exclaimed. "By the mighty archangels, pins! What do I want with them, colleen?" "Tell the story," said Malachi, who was watching her. "I won't--I can't--I can't!" sobbed Tilly. "Then I will," said Malachi. "I have given you every chance, and I can't do more, but The Desmond shall know and you shall stand by and look at him as he hears those black wicked lies of yours--no less----" Whereupon Malachi proceeded to enlighten his old father with regard to the pins which Tilly had inserted in the thick deep lining of Starlight's saddle. He told his story with great verve and passion and made far more of it than Tilly herself would have done. He did not conceal the motive for a moment. He did not attempt to shield the naughty and unhappy girl. Towards the end of the narrative, The Desmond stood up. It was very awful when The Desmond stood up. He looked so much bigger than anyone else, and so much fiercer. His black eyes seemed to eat through Tilly. The fire in them seemed to burn into her. "You _go_," he said, "not to-morrow, but _to-day_! This clergyman, Mr. Flannigan, will see you into the train. I'll give him sufficient money to get you out of the house. You are a bad, wicked, deceitful girl. You wanted to kill my heart's treasure! Now, leave the room, and let me never see your face again! As to these pins they bring a curse on you, otherwise they are harmless. You _go_! Flannigan, will you see her off and put her into the train? Nay, it would be safer to put her on board the ship. I didn't think there was such wickedness anywhere in the world, but I'm learning in my old age; yes, God help me, I'm learning in my old age. Pack your own things and _go_!"