'Murther! and I've kissed her often,' the giant sighed with contrition, as though by that unlucky fact virtue must have gone out of him. 'Anyways,' added Terence, 'she could never have had a hand in the arrest at Cutpurse Row. Somebody supplied a list of delegates. Who was it? It's terrible not to know!' 'Therein lies the hopelessness of the whole affair,' declared Mr. Curran, preparing to depart. 'Blindman's-buff's nothing to it. With such wriggling in the grass it's simply putting honest heads into the wild beast's mouth for nothing. I won't say what I should think about it were circumstances otherwise. But as the wretched case stands, it would be a great load off my mind, my dear boy, if you were out of the _bagarre_.' Cassidy scrutinised the face of Terence narrowly, who wore a look of moody uncertainty. 'Councillor Curran's right,' he said at length. 'Better show a clean pair of heels, and save your neck.' The young man glanced up in anger, and the other smiled with a good-humoured nod. 'It was kind of Lord Clare,' Curran went on, walking hither and thither, much perturbed--'it certainly was kind of him to speak as he did. Maybe he's not so bad as I think. If so, the Lord forgive me! That there should be a warrant for you ready signed is not surprising. Warrants are pretty nearly dead letters just now, but it would not do to kidnap the brother of Lord Glandore without proper authority; and this secret foe that he spoke about is too sharp to do things unwarily. Once taken, your life's not worth a pin's fee with the Staghouse crew, ready to swear anything, and some one prepared to dictate. Who have ye ever injured, Terence?--think.' 'My Lord Clare said all that!' exclaimed Cassidy, disconcerted. Plunging his hands deep in his breeches-pockets, he whistled 'The Sword' softly to himself, while an expression of concern puckered his jolly lineaments. 'The hopes of the society will centre on you now,' the giant observed presently. 'As it is, the peculiarity of the attitude ye have taken these several months past, combined with your exalted rank, makes your position dangerous. The society'll look to you, now that Emmett and the rest are gone. Though all my heart's with it, it's little real use myself'll be, worse luck--I'm stupid. Theobald told me so. Tom Emmett's often called me a blundering booby.' This confession was made with such deprecating humility that Terence was touched, and held out his hand. 'You wrong yourself,' he said. 'Cheer up. We'll stand by each other. But I'm not above taking good advice.' 'Ye'll go?' his two friends said, in different cadence.