“Listen to me now,” said Dr. O’Grady, “and you may take it that this is my last word, for I haven’t time to waste talking to you. If I catch you interfering with Mary Ellen in any way or setting the girl’s mind up against the costume that Mrs. Gregg has designed for her, I’ll speak to Mr. Gregg, and have you transferred to some different county altogether, where you’ll never see Mary Ellen either in fancy dress or any other way. What’s more I’ll represent your conduct to the Lord-Lieutenant, so that you’ll never be made a sergeant as long as you live.” These threats affected Moriarty. He had no doubt in his mind that Dr. O’Grady could and would carry out the first of them. About the second he was not quite so sure, but it remained a horrible possibility. He saw that there was nothing to be done by opposing his will to a powerful combination of private influence and official power. Without speaking another word he turned and walked across the street to the barrack. But his anger had by no means died away. He found Sergeant Colgan asleep in the living-room. He woke him at once. “I’ll be even with that doctor,” he said, “before I’ve done with him.” “That’s threatening language,” said the sergeant, who was not pleased at being wakened, “and it’s actionable; so you’d better mind yourself, Moriarty. There’s many a better man than you has gone to jail for less than that. I knew a Member of Parliament one time that got three weeks for no more than saying that he’d like to see the people beating the life out of a land grabber. What has the doctor been doing to you?” “It’s about Mary Ellen.” “Get out,” said the sergeant, “you and your Mary Ellen! It’s too fond you are of running here and there after that same Mary Ellen.” It was plain that no sympathy was to be expected from Sergeant Colgan. Moriarty sat down on a chair in the corner and meditated on plans of vengeance. The sergeant dropped off to sleep again. CHAPTER XVII