A knock at the house door.

"Who is it?--What is it?" cried Lord Clonbrony, growing very pale.

Lord Colambre changed colour too, and ran down stairs. "Don't let 'em
let any body in, for your life, Colambre; under any pretence," cried
Lord Clonbrony, calling from the head of the stairs: then running to
the window, "By all that's good, it's Mordicai himself! and the people
with him."

"Lean your head on me, my dear aunt," said Miss Nugent: Lady Clonbrony
leant back, trembling, and ready to faint.

"But he's walking off now; the rascal could not get in--safe for the
present!" cried Lord Clonbrony, rubbing his hands, and repeating,
"safe for the present!"

"Safe for the present!" repeated Lord Colambre, coming again into the
room. "Safe for the present hour."

"He could not get in, I suppose.--Oh, I warned all the servants
well," said Lord Clonbrony; "and so did Terry. Ay, there's the rascal
Mordicai walking off, at the end of the street; I know his walk a mile
off. Gad! I can breathe again. I am glad he's gone. But he will come
back and always lie in wait, and some time or other, when we're off
our guard (unawares), he'll slide in."

"Slide in! Oh, horrid!" cried Lady Clonbrony, sitting up, and wiping
away the water which Miss Nugent had sprinkled on her face.