And in the glance which he gave me I saw that I had been admitted behind a certain barrier. He was angry, but he would never more attempt to overbear me with grand threats. And he would never more attempt to undermine me with cheap flattery. We had measured one against the other, and he had not come away thinking out of his proportion. After a time he said: "What do you propose to do, Mr. O'Ruddy?" I could not help but grin at him. "I propose nothing," said I. "I am not a man for meaning two things when I say one." "You've said one thing, I suppose?" he said slowly. "I have," said I. "And the one thing?" said he. "Your memory is as good as mine," said I. He mused deeply and at great length. "You have the papers?" he asked finally. "I still have them," said I. "Then," he cried with sudden vehemence, "why didn't you read the papers and find out the truth?" I almost ran away. "Your--your lordship," I stammered, "I thought perhaps in London--in London perhaps--I might get a--I would try to get a tutor." CHAPTER XIII "So that is the way of it, is it?" said the Earl, grinning. "And why did you not take it to some clerk?" "My lord," said I with dignity, "the papers were with me in trust for you. A man may be a gentleman and yet not know how to read and write." "'Tis quite true," answered he. "And when I spoke of the tutor in London I did not mean to say that I would use what knowledge he imparted to read your papers. I was merely blushing for the defects in my education, although Father Donovan often said that I knew half as much as he did, poor man, and him a holy father. If you care to so direct me, I can go even now to my chamber and make shift to read the papers." "The Irish possess a keen sense of honour," said he admiringly. "We do," said I. "We possess more integrity and perfect sense of honour than any other country in the world, although they all say the same of themselves, and it was my own father who often said that he would trust an Irishman as far as he could see him and no more, but for a foreigner he had only the length of an eyelash." "And what do you intend with the papers now, O'Ruddy?" said he. "I intend as I intended," I replied. "There is no change in me." "And your intentions?" said he. "To give them into the hands of Lady Mary Strepp and no other," said I boldly. I looked at him. He looked at me. "Lady Mary Strepp, my daughter," he said in ironic musing. "Would not her mother do, O'Ruddy?" he asked softly. I gave a start. "She is not near?" I demanded, looking from here to there. He laughed. "Aye, she is. I can have her here to take the papers in one short moment." I held up my hands. "No--no--" "Peace," said he with a satanic chuckle. "I was only testing your courage." "My lord," said I gravely, "seeing a bare blade come at your breast is one thing, and running around a table is another, and besides you have no suitable table in this chamber." The old villain laughed again.