“Shoot across like an arrow to the house,” cried Corny, turning suddenly to him, and giving him a kind push--“shoot off, Harry, and bring Dora to meet me like lightning, and the poor aunt, too--‘twould be cruel else! But what stops you, son of my heart?” “Stay!” cried Corny, a sudden thought striking him, which accounted for Harry Ormond’s hesitation; “Stop, Harry! You are right, and I am a fool. There is Black Connal, the twin-brother--oh, mercy!--against us still. May be Old Connal will keep me to it still--as he couldn’t, no more than I could, foresee that when I promised Dora that was not then born, it would be twins--and as I said son, and surely I meant the son that would be born then--and twins is all as one as one, they say. Promise fettering still! Bad off as ever, may be,” said Cornelius. His whole countenance and voice changed; he sat down on a fallen tree, and rested his hands on his knees. “What shall we do now, Harry, with Black Connal?” “He may be a very different man from White Connal--in every respect,” said Ormond. O’Shane looked up for a moment, and then interpreting his own way, exclaimed, “That’s right, Harry--that thought is like yourself, and the very thought I had myself. We must make no declarations till we have cleared the point of honour. Not the most beautiful angel that ever took woman’s beautiful form--and that’s the greatest temptation man can meet--could tempt my Harry Ormond from the straight path of honour!” Harry Ormond stood at this moment abashed by praise which he did not quite deserve. “Indeed, sir,” said he, “you give me too much credit.” “I cannot give you too much credit; you are an honourable young man, and I understand you through and through.” That was more than Harry himself did. Corny went on talking to himself aloud, “Black Connal is abroad these great many years, ever since he was a boy--never saw him since a child that high--an officer he is in the Irish brigade now--black eyes and hair; that was why they called him Black Connal--Captain Connal now; and I heard the father say he was come to England, and there was some report of his going to be married, if I don’t mistake,” cried Corny, turning again to Harry, pleasure rekindling in his eye. “If that should be! there’s hope for us still; but I see you are right not to yield to the hope till we are clear. My first step, in honour, no doubt, must be across the lake this minute to the father--Connal of Glynn; but the boat is on the other side. The horn is with my fishing-tackle, Harry, down yonder--run, for you can run--horn the boat, or if the horn be not there, sign to the boat with your handkerchief--bring it up here, and I will put across before ten minutes shall be over--my horse I will have down to the water’s edge by the time you have got the boat up--when an honourable tough job is to be done, the sooner the better.”