"Mesilf has. Begorra, it's the truth I'm tellin'. Do ye know his name?" "His name!" gasped Mrs. Russell, once more thinking of her late terrible fancy. "Yis, his name; ye can't guess it? No? Well, I'll tell yez. It's Ashby." "Ashby! Mr. Ashby!" cried Mrs. Russell. "Why! how could he get here?" "Oh, well," said "His Majesty," "he did get here, an' that's no loie. How he got here I'll find out to-morrer. But he did get here, an' he's been here since, an' by the same token he's sperited off the senorita. But there's two av thim." "Two of them!" repeated Mrs. Russell, in wonder. "Ay, two av thim; an' the other's that young blade Rivers!" Katie, thus far, had not said a word. She heard of the discovery of Ashby with surprise, but with no deeper feeling. The moment, however, that the name of Rivers was mentioned, she gave a gasp, and her head fell forward on her hands. "His Majesty" noticed the action. He put his own interpretation upon it. But he said not a word that had any reference to it; he was too cautious for that. And surely in this "His Majesty" showed a skill and a discrimination which was most politic, and well worthy of the royal ruler of millions. More than this. One glance showed him how the land lay with Katie; so our monarch, not content with abstaining from all further allusion to Harry, actually carried his complaisance--or, if you please, his diplomacy--so far as to try to appease all possible anxieties that might arise in Katie's mind. "Shure the two lads meant no harrum at all at all," said "His Majesty." "They happened to find a way to get here, an' they came here, an' begorra they'd have been fools if they didn't. Shure to glory, there's no harrum in life in comin' here on a bit av a visit. An' there's no wondher that a young man 'ud come here, wid such charrums as these to invoite him. Shure it 'ud be enough to call the dead back to loife, so it would. An' if they've run off wid the senorita, all I can say is, they can't go far, an' the senorita'll have to come back agin, so she will: "'Tis to visit my Nancy I go, Through bushes au' briers an' flucis; For Nancy has bothered me brains, An' I've taken French lave av me sinsis.'" "And wasn't there any ghost at all?" asked Mrs. Russell, to whom this information had given inexpressible relief. "Well," said "His Majesty, "there's no knowin'; an' it's best to be on yer gyard, so it is, for sorra a one av us knows whin a ghost may be prowlin' round about, an' there ye have it. As for the other ghosts, Ashby an' Rivers, they won't do yez any more harruum--they're undher gyard." "Under guard!" said Katie, and threw an imploring look at "His Majesty." It was almost the first time that he had fairly caught her eye, so dexterously had she always avoided his glance.