He could not bear to think of it--he swore it must not be: then he gradually sunk to hoping it was not necessary, and proposing palliatives and half measures. Moriarty must be moved to-day--sent to his own friends. That point he had, for peace sake, conceded to her ladyship, he said; but he should expect, on her part, that after a proper, a decent apology from Ormond, things might still be accommodated and go on smoothly, if that meddling Miss Black would allow them. In short he managed so, that whilst he confirmed the young man in his resolution to quit Castle Hermitage, he threw all the blame on Lady O’Shane; Ormond never doubting the steadiness of Sir Ulick’s affection, nor suspecting that he had any secret motive for wishing to get rid of him. “But where can you go, my dear boy?--What will you do with yourself?--What will become of you?” “Never mind--never mind what becomes of me, my dear sir: I’ll find means--I have the use of head and hands.” “My cousin, Cornelius O’Shane, he is as fond of you almost as I am, and he is not cursed with a wife, and is blessed with a daughter,” said Sir Ulick, with a sly smile. “Oh! yes,” continued he, “I see it all now: you have ways and means--I no longer object--I’ll write--no, you’d write better yourself to King Corny, for you are a greater favourite with his majesty than I am. Fare ye well--Heaven bless you! my boy,” said Sir Ulick, with warm emphasis. “Remember, whenever you want supplies, Castle Hermitage is your bank--you know I have a bank at my back (Sir Ulick was joined in a banking-house)’--Castle Hermitage is your bank, and here’s your quarter’s allowance to begin with.” Sir Ulick put a purse into Ormond’s hand, and left him. CHAPTER III.