Few and simple as the words were, there was that in their quiet, unassuming delivery, which in a second recalled the footman to a full consciousness of his impertinent mistake. He saw at once the immeasurable gulph, impassible to any effort of assumption or insolence, which separated them, and with the ready tact of his calling, he respectfully took off his hat, and held forth a sealed letter, without one word of reply or apology. Sir Archibald put on his spectacles, and having carefully read the superscription, turned back towards the house without speaking. “Here is a letter for you, O'Donoghue,” said he, as he entered the parlour where the chief was already seated at his breakfast, while Kerry O'Leary, a short distance behind his chair, was relating the circumstances of the last night's adventure. “Is it from Mark?” said the old man eagerly; and then glancing at the writing, he threw it from him in disappointment, and added, “I am getting very uneasy about that lad.” “Had ye no' better read the letter; the messenger wha brought it seems to expect an answer,” interposed M'Nab. “Messenger!--eh--not by post? Is Hemsworth come back?” exclaimed O'Donoghue, with an evident degree of fear in his manner. “No, sir,” said Kerry, guessing to what topic his master's thoughts were turning; “the Captain is not coming, they say, for a month or six weeks yet.” “Thank God,” muttered O'Donoghue; “that scoundrel never leaves me a night's rest, when I hear he's in the neighbourhood. Will you see what's in it, Archy?--my head is quite confused this morning; I got up three hours before my time.” Sir Archibald resumed his spectacles, and broke the seal. The contents were at some length it would seem, for as he perused the letter to himself, several minutes elapsed. “Go on, Kerry,” said O'Donoghue; “I want to hear all about this business.” “Well, I believe your honour knows the most of it now; for when I came up to the glen, they were all safe over, barrin' the mare; poor Kittane, she was carried down the falls, and they took her up near a mile below the old bridge, stone dead; Master Mark will fret his heart out when he hears it.” “This is a very polite note,” interposed Sir Archy, as he laid the letter open before him, “from Sir Marmaduke Travers, begging to know when he may be permitted to pay his personal respects to you, and express his deep and grateful sense--his own words--of your son's noble conduct in rescuing his daughter at the hazard of his life. It is written with much modesty and good sense, and the writer canna be other than a true gentleman.” “Travers--Travers,” repeated O'Donoghue; “why that's the man himself. It was he bought the estate; he's Hemsworth's principal.” “And if he be,” replied M'Nab, “canna an honest man ha'e a bad servant? There's nothing about Hemsworth here. It's a ceevil demand from one gentleman to anither.”