The change in her tone struck him at once, and he peered sharply into her fresh face with his bleared eyes. A look of wonder stole into them at the sight of her white cheeks, and he crossed himself before replying so as to avert any evil that might befall. Kerry always lived in a state of suspense, waiting for a bolt from the blue. Jenny's scared face almost assured him that it had fallen. "What is it, _alannah_?" he asked, pausing at the gate. "Is anything wrong?" "Oh, no! nothing is wrong, Kerry! What could be wrong?" said Jenny nervously; "only papa has a visitor." "Augh! His riverence?" "No; not the vicar. A stranger--or at least almost a stranger," she said, half to herself. "It is many years since Mr. Hilliston came here." "Mr. Hilliston!" cried Kerry, with an ashen face. "The black curse on him and his! What is he doing with the master?" "I don't know, Kerry," replied Jenny, rather astonished at the old man's vehemence; "he has been with father over two hours." "And I was sent away," muttered Kerry, under his breath. "Sorrow befall you, black attorney that you are. Never did you cross a threshold without bringing grief to all hearts. It was an evil day we saw you, and an evil day when we see you again." He uplifted his hands as though about to invoke a curse on Hilliston, then, unexpectedly letting them fall, he turned sharply on Jenny. "How did he come, miss?" "By train from Eastbourne--no doubt he walked from the station." "I'll drive him back," exclaimed Kerry, in quite an amiable voice. "Sure he'll be weary on his legs. Why not? I'll borrow his riverence's trap and the little mare with the white foreleg, but----" "Kerry, father might not like it." "Get along with ye," said Kerry cheerfully; "sure his riverence has offered the trap a hundred times. I'll take it on myself to explain to the master. Keep Mr. Hilliston here till he sees me arriving up this road--a dirty one it is, too, bad cess to it!" He was hurrying off, when Jenny stopped him. She saw that his borrowing of the vicar's honey trap was a mere excuse to get Hilliston to himself for half an hour, and, rendered more curious than ever by Kerry's artful way of arranging matters, she ran after him and pulled his sleeve. "Kerry! Kerry! Has Mr. Hilliston come over to see papa about the Larcher affair?" "How should I know," retorted Kerry, relapsing into his crusty humor; "for shame, Miss Jenny! Is it your business or mine?" "It is mine," said the girl, with a resolute look on her face. "Mr. Hilliston came over to ask me to be silent about what was contained in those papers you took from me." "How does he know of that, miss?" "Because all London now knows the story of the Larcher affair." "Augh! Get away with ye. Sure it's a fool you're making of old Kerry," said the servant, in an incredulous and angry tone.