Now, no man can ever say that I was a laggard when a good old-fashioned contest was going on, and the less indolence was observable on my own part when friends of mine were engaged in the fray. Sure I was always eager enough, even when it was a stranger's debate, and I wonder what my father would think of me now, to see me veer from the straight course of battle and thrust my unstruck sword once more into its scabbard. It was the face in the window that made me forget friend and foe alike. Lady Mary was the only member of the household that was not on the lawn, and was protesting unheard against the violence to two poor men who were there because they had been invited to come by the under-gardener. I saw in the twinkling of an eye that the house had been deserted on the first outcry. Doors were left wide open for the whole world to enter. I dodged behind the trees, scuttled up the gravelled driveway, leaped the stone steps three at a time, and before you could say "Ballymuggins" I was in the most superb hall in which I ever set my foot. It was a square house with the stairway in the middle. I kept in my mind's eye the direction of the window in which Lady Mary had appeared. Quick as a bog-trotter responds to an invitation to drink, I mounted that grand stairway, turned to my right, and came to a door opposite which I surmised was the window through which Lady Mary was leaning. Against this door I rapped my knuckles, and speedily I heard the sweet voice of the most charming girl in all the world demand with something like consternation in its tones,-- "Who is there?" "It's me, Lady Mary!" said I. "The O'Ruddy, who begs the privilege of a word with you." I heard the slam of a window being shut, then the sound of a light step across the floor, and after that she said with a catch in her voice,-- "I'll be pleased you should come in, Mr. O'Ruddy." I tried the door, but found it locked. "How can I come in, Lady Mary," says I, "if you've got bolts held against me?" "There are no bolts," said Lady Mary; "the key should be on the outside. I am locked in. Look for the key and open the door." Was ever a more delightful sentence spoken to a man? My heart was in my throat with joy. I glanced down, and there, sure enough, stuck the key. I turned it at once, then pulled it out of the lock and opened the door. "Lady Mary," says I, "with your permission, it seems to me a door should be locked from the inside." With that I thrust the key through the far side of the door, closed it, and locked it. Then I turned round to face her.