“I hope my father may never hear it,” said O'Reilly, compassionately; “he has all the irritability of age, and these reports invariably urge him on to harsh measures, which, by the least concession, he would never have pursued. The Darcys, indeed, have to thank themselves for any severity they have experienced at our hands. Teasing litigation and injurious reports of us have met all our efforts at conciliation.” “A compromise would have been much better, and more reputable for all parties,” said Heffernan, as he turned to stir the fire, and thus purposely averted his face while making the remark. “So it would,” said O'Reilly, hurriedly; then stopping abruptly short, he stammered out, “I don't exactly know what you mean by the word, but if it implies a more amicable settlement of all disputed points between us, I perfectly agree with you.” Heffernan never spoke: a look of cool self-possession and significance was all his reply. It seemed to say, “Don't hope to cheat _me_; however, you may rely on my discretion.” “I declare my handkerchief is in my pocket all this while,” said O'Reilly, trying to conceal his rising confusion with a laugh. “Good-night, once more--you 're thinking of going over to England to-morrow evening?” “Yes, if the weather permits, I 'll sail at seven. Can I be of any service to you?” “Perhaps so: I may trouble you with a commission. Good-night.” “So, Mr. Hickman, you begin to feel the hook! Now let us see if we cannot play the fish without letting him know the weakness of the tackle!” said Heffernan, as he looked after him, and then slowly retraced his steps to the now deserted drawing-room. “How frequently will chance play the game more skilfully for us than all our cleverness!” said he, while he paced the room alone. “That old bear, St. George, who might have ruined everything, has done me good service. O'Reilly's suspicions are awakened, his fears are aroused; could I only find a clew to his terror, I could hold him as fast by his fears as by this same baronetcy. This baronetcy,” added he, with a sneering laugh, “that I am to negotiate for, and--be refused!” With this sentiment of honest intentions on his lips, Mr. Heffernan retired to rest, and, if this true history is to be credited, to sleep soundly till morning. CHAPTER XVI. PAUL DEMPSEY'S WALK