good turn deserves another. I've also to tell you, sir, that Lord Mallow
has asked them to stay at King's House."


"Lord Mallow has asked Americans to stay at King's House!"

"But they're Irish, and he knew them in Ireland, y 'r honour."

"Well, he knew me in Ireland, and I'm proscribed!"

"Ah, that's different, as you know. There's no war on now, and they're
only good American citizens who own land in this dominion of the king; so
why shouldn't he give them courtesy?"

"From whom do you get your information?" asked Dyck Calhoun with an air
of suspicion.

"From Darius Boland, y'r honour," answered Michael, with a smile. "Who
is Darius Boland, you're askin' in y'r mind? Well, he's the new manager
come from the Llyn plantations in Virginia; and right good stuff he is,
with a tongue that's as dry as cut-wheat in August. And there's humour
in him, plenty-aye, plenty. When did I see him, and how? Well, I saw
him this mornin', on the quay at Kingston. He was orderin' the porters
about with an air--oh, bedad, an air! I saw the name upon the parcels--
Miss Sheila Llyn, of Moira, Virginia, and so I spoke to him. The rest
was aisy. He looked me up and down in a flash, like a searchlight
playin' on an enemy ship, and then he smiled. 'Well,' said he, 'who
might you be? For there's queer folks in Jamaica, I'm told.' So I said
I was Michael Clones, and at that he doffed his hat and held out a hand.
'Well, here's luck,' said he. 'Luck at the very start! I've heard of