This funny persecution ceased for the time, to be renewed as soon as they landed at Liverpool, and continued all the way from that city to York, and from there to Chuxton. “Not a hint, not a breath, not a look, to bethray to the childer that they behold in me the father of them, and a discindint of the ancient kings of Meath,” he said, as the train drew into the Chuxton station. “‘Not a hint, not a breath, not a look’ from us shall betray your secret, O’Melaghlin,” Cleve assured him. “No, indeed,” Palma added. “Be the powers, if ye bethray me, I nivir spake to aither of yez again.” “There,” said Stuart, as they all rose to leave the train, “there is Mr. Randolph Hay himself come in the barouche to meet us.” “Where?” demanded The O’Melaghlin. “There, on the other side of the road. That gentleman in the open carriage with the fine bays and the footman in russet livery,” replied Cleve, pointing to the “turnout.” “Be the club of Konn! That foine fellow the son-in-law of meself!” “Yes, indeed!” “The gintleman that married me Judy when she was a nady orphan, and he didn’t suspict she could be the daughter of a hundred kings?” “The very same.” “Let me at him!” exclaimed The O’Melaghlin, pushing to the front and passing through the crowd on the platform to the side of the barouche, just as Ran got down from his seat to welcome his friends. “I’m The O’Melaghlin, Misther Hay. And it’s proud I am to make the acquaintance of ye. You’re a noble man, that ye are—that ye are. Wolfscliff is behoind. I could not wait for him to inthrodooce you. But I’m The O’Melaghlin, and you are Misther Hay!” he exclaimed, seizing the hand of Ran and shaking it to nearly dislocation. Ran was somewhat dismayed, not knowing how to account for this overwhelming salute that almost deprived him of the power to respond, and say: “I am very happy to meet you, Mr. O’Melaghlin.” “Misther?” repeated the chief, prompt to take exception to such a common title applied to himself. But fortunately Stuart came up, shook hands with Ran and then presented Palma, who was warmly welcomed by her cousin. “And now, Wolfscliff, will ye be afther inthrodoocing Misther Hay to meself?” demanded Ran’s father-in-law. “Pardon, I thought you had,” said Stuart. “Divil a bit could I do that same to his intilligince,” replied the other. “Then I will have that honor,” laughed Stuart. And assuming the courtly dignity of a lord chamberlain at a royal reception, he bowed to the descendant of Irish kings, and with a wave of his hand, to indicate the inferior person, said: “The O’Melaghlin, of Arghalee, I have the honor to present to you, sir, Mr. Randolph Hay, of Haymore.” Ran bowed very solemnly, conscious now that he stood in the presence of an “eccentric.” “And, sure, meself fales honored in the relationship—I mane the acquaintanceship,” graciously replied The O’Melaghlin, feeling, however, that he had almost betrayed himself.