That last day was one of breathless excitement. All knew that the affair was settled; yet they waited, as if in expectation of a miracle. False reports flew hither and thither in distracting numbers. Messengers rode out with bulletins hour by hour to Strogue and other important country places, where fine ladies waited. Lord Clare, taking a lesson from his recent predicament, surrounded the House with cavalry. Foot-soldiers, with matches burning, lined the colonnades. No demonstration of popular feeling was permitted. Those who were about to cancel the national charter were well protected; yet seemed they ill at ease. Many anti-unionists, seeing how hopeless was the case, withdrew with sad looks before the third reading of the bill; others, urged by a morbid curiosity, waited for the curtain's drop. The lobbies were crammed; the galleries crowded. A monotonous murmur ran along the benches. Some were ashamed, some shameless, some--too late--sorrow-smitten. Among the latter was Lord Kilwarden, who despatched a courier to his daughter to say that he would stop to the last. So the hours waned, and it was night ere Doreen's father arrived at Strogue. He was deeply, miserably dejected. So much so, that his daughter marvelled at him. 'It's all over!' he cried, in indignation mingled with contrition. 'The men who forgot their country have slain _her_, that she may not survive to remember _them_. The slave's collar has been slipped on--its lock snapped to for ever! But there's something yet to come. I have a hint from Clare that there will probably be more trouble to-morrow. Glandore told me the same thing just now, who has it, he says, from the Staghouse people, who are sure to know. Lord Cornwallis will have taken his measures, doubtless, for as a soldier he is above praise. I have business with him to-morrow, so we had better return at once to Dublin.' 'Now?' Doreen said, in wonder. 'You are not afraid?' her father asked, with a weak smile. 'My coach is below. Its liveries are well known. No one would harm me, thank Heaven!' Afraid? Doreen was not given to physical fear. Then her father explained that Shane was coming home, and with him Cassidy and some more choice spirits, who were to close the lower rooms of the Abbey and remain on the defensive, lest the anti-unionists should attempt revenge. 'You will be equally safe here or in Dublin, dear,' Lord Kilwarden said. 'But I seem to think that you would prefer my company to that of cousin Shane.' Locked up with Shane--and Cassidy! No, indeed. Knowing what she knew, that would be too dreadful. Thanking her father with a look, she fetched a shawl, kissed pale Sara, and, bidding her be of good cheer, for the Abbey would be well protected, climbed into the coach, which started forthwith for Dublin.