intends to take any steps against his daughter's abductor, or
whether he thinks it best not to add to the scandal by stirring up
matters, but to take her away at once to his estates."

"He is in a difficult position," O'Neil said gravely. "The young
lady has been missing for a fortnight. No one knows whether she
went of her own free will, or against it. Were her father to carry
her off, quietly, it would excite the worst suspicions. Better by
far lodge his complaint before the king, proclaim his grievances
loudly everywhere, and tell the story in all its details.
Whichever course he takes, evil-minded people will think the
worse; but of the two evils, the latter seems to me to be the
lesser."

"I suppose it would be," Desmond agreed, "though, for my part, I
should be heartily glad if I never heard another word about it."

"You are too modest altogether, Kennedy. Whatever rumours may be
current, concerning the young lady, there can be no doubt that you
come out splendidly, in that you hear a cry of a woman in
distress; you scale walls to get in to her assistance; you and
your servant encounter five of her guards, kill four of them and
bind the other; rescue the maiden, and carry her off, with flying
colours, in the carriage of her abductor. My dear Kennedy, you
will become an object of admiration to all the ladies of the
court."

"That will be absolutely disgusting," Desmond said, angrily. "It
is almost enough to make one wish that one had never interfered in
the affair."