this dreadful affair. Excuse me, sir; surely you will admit that a
murderous attack on dear papa's life could not be listened to by his only
child with indifference. But do let me know how it happened, papa."

"You are not yet equal to it, darling; you are too much agitated."

"I am equal to it now, papa! Pray, let me hear it, and how this
gentleman--who will be kind enough to imagine my thanks, for, indeed,
no language could express them--and how this gentleman was the means of
saving you."

"Perhaps, Miss Folliard," said Reilly, "it would be better to defer the
explanation until you shall have gained more strength."

"Oh, no, sir," she replied; "my anxiety to hear it will occasion me
greater suffering, I am sure, than the knowledge of it, especially now
that papa is safe."

Reilly bowed in acquiescence, but not in consequence of her words; a
glance as quick as the lightning, but full of entreaty and gratitude,
and something like joy--for who does not know the many languages which
the single glance of a lovely woman can speak?--such a glance, we say,
accompanied her words, and at once won him to assent.

"Miss Folliard may be right, sir," he observed, "and as the shock has
passed, perhaps to make her briefly acquainted with the circumstances
will rather relieve her."

"Right," said her father, "so it will, Willy, so it will, especially,
thank God, as there has been no harm done. Look at this now! Get away,