“The story is soon told, sir. Lady Dorothea detected her endeavoring to draw young Martin into a private marriage. The artful creature, by some means or other, had obtained such an insight into the young man's difficulties that she actually terrorized over his weak mind. She discovered, too, it is suspected, something rather more than indiscretions on his part.” A long low whistle from the priest seemed to impart a kind of gratified surprise at this announcement. “He had got into a habit of signing his name, they say; and whether he signed it to something he had no right to, or signed another name by mistake--” “Oh, for shame,” broke in Bodkin; “that wouldn't be one bit like a Martin.” “Perhaps you are acquainted with all the circumstances better than myself, sir?” said Miss Busk, bristling up with anger. “Maybe you 've heard how the Henderson girl was turned away out of the French duke's family,--how she was found in correspondence with the leaders of the mob in Paris? Maybe, sir, you are aware that she has some mysterious hold over her father, and he dares not gainsay one word she says?” “I don't know one word of it; and if it wasn't thought rude, I'd say I don't believe it, either,” said Bodkin, stoutly. “I believe the worst that could be said of her,” said Mrs. Clinch. “Well, well, make her as bad as you like; but how does that prove anything against young Martin? and if you can find nothing heavier to say of him than that he wanted to marry a very handsome girl--” “A low creature!” broke in Miss Busk. “The lowest of the low!” chimed in Mrs. Cronan. “An impudent, upsetting minx!” added Mrs. Clinch. “Nothing would serve her but a post-chaise the morning she arrived by the mail for Dublin; and, signs on it, when she got home she had n't money to pay for it.” “It was n't that she left her place empty-handed, then,” said Miss Busk. “Jemima tells me that she managed the whole house,--paid for everything; and we all know what comes of that.” Miss Busk, in delivering this sentiment, was seated with her back to the door, towards which suddenly every eye was now turned in mingled astonishment and confusion; she moved round to see the cause, and there beheld the very object of her commentary standing close behind her chair. Closely wrapped in a large cloak, the hood of which she wore over her head, her tall figure looked taller and more imposing in its motionless attitude. “I have to ask pardon for this intrusion, ladies,” said she, calmly; “but you will forgive me when I tell the reason of it. I have just received very sad tidings, which ought to be conveyed to Miss Martin; she is at the islands, and I have no means of following her, unless Mr. Clinch will kindly lend me the revenue boat--” “And accompany you, I hope,” broke in Mrs. Clinch, with a sneer. Kate did not notice the taunting remark, but went on, “You will be grieved to hear that Mr. Martin is no more.” “Martin dead!” muttered the Captain.