In vain, to all appearance, were the eloquence of Barecolt and the arguments of the painter. The best they could obtain from O'Donnell was a vague and unsatisfactory reply, that he would go on the morrow, or that he would see about it. He asked, nevertheless, a number of questions, as if he felt some interest in the affair, which for nearly half-an-hour had the effect of inducing his two visiters to believe that their entreaties would ultimately prove effectual; but at length he suddenly turned the conversation to another subject, and once more inquired of Arrah Neil; and Barecolt, rising, wished him good-night in a sullen and disappointed tone, saying that, as he would have no hand in it, some one else must be found who would undertake the task which he declined. As soon as the mighty captain issued forth into the street, however, he burst into a laugh, much to Falgate's surprise. But Barecolt laughed again, saying, "He will do it, Master Falgate! He will do it, take my word for it. He is a cunning old chap, that Master O'Donnell, and he will not let us know what he is going to do; but he'll go." "I don't think it, Captain Barecolt; I don't think it," replied Falgate, sadly; "and we cannot trust the good earl's safety to such a chance." "I don't intend to trust to any chance at all, Diggory Falgate," answered Barecolt, in one of his supreme tones. "You do not suppose an officer of my experience will rest satisfied without clear knowledge of what he is about? Draw back with me, Master Falgate. Go you under the shadow of that entry, where you can see his door in front. I will post myself by that penthouse, where I command both streets. He cannot escape us then, and we will give him twenty minutes. But if he comes forth, say not a word, move not a finger; rest as quiet as one of the door nails till he has gone on, and then come and join me." Not five of the twenty minutes which Captain Barecolt had allowed for the issuing forth of Mr. O'Donnell had elapsed when the door of his house opened, and a tall figure appeared, which, turning back its head, said aloud, "Turn the lock, Dorothy," and then took its way up the street, without observing either of the two watchers.