'Pah! ye stink of the Staghouse! Stale blood and brains! Go on, hangman; do your worst. Mr. Crosbie _was_ here--has been here for weeks. I won't deny, since ye know all about it. If ye hadn't been a dolt, ye'd have found him long ago. Why, he walked out with Norah each evening on the shore. He was here when the yeoman blackguards wounded and hurt my arm. Do ye think, if it was otherwise, I'd have stooped to give them drink? Not likely! Mr. Crosbie _was_ here, but the bird's flown. You may well look glum. Sorra a drop of the crathur your men'll get out of me this day. Go, search the house; turn it inside out. He lived in the right-hand garret. Ye'll find some of his things about, though he's in Wexford by this time. Here are all my keys (except the cellar key). Search!' This was disheartening. Behaviour coarse and rude. But duty is duty. Sirr stooped to pick up the keys, which had been tossed to his feet, and, wrapping himself in a rag of dignity, proceeded to examine the premises. It was as she said. There was no one there, though there were signs of recent occupation. Ruefully the major looked into the dining-parlour. There were no nice things laid out for his behoof. 'I've only done my duty,' he urged, as he clutched the virtuous lady's fat hand. 'Don't be cross with me. I'm glad my mission's failed, though I should have won a thousand by it--there!' But she shook him off and swept away, murmuring over her shoulder, with sniffing nostrils, that she had done with him; would never meet him as a friend again (though her house was open to examination whensoever he was anxious for an outrage); that she would take it as a personal favour if he would save her the pain of cutting him dead in public; for under no conditions whatsoever would she consent to condone this insult. Sirr was sorry, but shrugged his shoulders. He ordered his men to march on to Strogue. Perhaps the culprit was not gone to Wexford, but was lying perdu in the vaults of the ancient Abbey. Mrs. Gillin screamed to old Jug, from an upper window, to run round to Larry in the farm-buildings, and bid him bring out the carriage. She must go to Dublin to the doctor. Her nerves were rooned now, as well as her spirits and poor arm. Then, closing the window, she called on the fugitives to come forth. 'There's no time to be lost,' she said. 'Sirr suspects nothing, but the other will. The serpent! He is capable of coming down himself, in a friendly way, to spend the evening; and that's more than I could endure, even for you.' 'Of whom do you speak?' asked Terence, bewildered.