'You!' he repeated again, after a pause, as though he could scarce trust his eyesight. 'Hush!' Doreen said; 'we must keep the secret.' Cassidy stared sourly at her, and laughed a short sharp laugh. She looked up at him in growing apprehension, for he appeared to her without his mask, and she could not comprehend the change. 'Ireland lies soaked in blood,' he said, 'through you. You've come to look upon your work?' Theobald started. 'I always designed open and honest warfare,' he murmured; 'not brigandage and murder! The eighteen thousand victims murdered by Alva did not stifle the birth of Holland's liberty. From every drop of my blood and that of those who lay down their lives for the holy cause there shall arise a patriot to avenge our death.' 'Ye're right. When ye get to Dublin ye'll be hanged. A short shrift and a dog's death!' was the blunt rejoinder. 'No, no!' cried Doreen, her face blanching. 'I am prepared to pay the penalty of unsuccess,' Tone answered. 'Washington succeeded. Kosciusko failed. I staked my all with a view to the liberation of this wretched land. I have courted Poverty. I leave my beloved wife--your poor sister, Cassidy--unprotected, my children fatherless. That's what unmans me. After so much, it will be little further effort to sacrifice my life.' 'It shall not be!' Doreen cried. Tone smiled sadly. 'From the days of Llewellyn of Wales, and Wallace of Scotland, England has never shown generosity to a fallen enemy.' 'He has come as a French general,' exclaimed Miss Wolfe with creeping fear; 'who will betray his incognito?' 'It may become my duty,' returned the giant, dryly. The blood left the girl's face and lips. Scales fell from her eyes. Here was the Judas who had sold to the gallows one by one, with the cold crafty deliberation of a devil, the men who had trusted him--who had clasped his hand in friendship. She saw it all now. With the lucidity which comes over our minds in moments of extreme trouble, she beheld in lurid links of fire the chain complete. The discovery of the pikes in the armoury; in the potato ground of the 'Irish Slave'; the two-fold betrayal of the council of the society; the town-major's knowledge of its members, and its passwords; the taking of Terence--of Terence--_who_ was innocent! She could do nothing but writhe under the blow, twisting her fingers together in speechless helplessness. There was such an intensity of disgust expressed in the movement, that the giant cleared his throat with a shade of embarrassment. 'Miss Doreen,' he said, 'will ye speak to me in private?' Her white lips moved and shaped the word--'No.' 'Ye'd better,' he urged, 'indeed ye had.' A dead silence still. Revengeful rage disturbed his brain. Foolish woman! she could scarcely expect him to speak out, and clinch a bargain before the victim's face.