indeed, had his own thoughts, perhaps of the fireside--modest
enough, but happy as love and health could make it--upon which his
own ambition had brought down the ruins of a hundred castles in the
air--thoughts he scarce could face, no doubt, and yet had no power
to drive away, of the young wife whose world was that same fireside;
of the child, perhaps, whose coming had opened for a time the door
of Paradise.

Conyngham broke in upon these meditations with a laugh.

'I have it!' he cried. 'It's as simple as the alphabet. This paper
says it was a barrister--a man from London--a malcontent, a felon, a
coward. Dammy, Geoff--that's me!'

He leapt to his feet. 'Get out of the way, Tim!' he cried to the
dog, pushing the animal aside and standing on the hearthrug.

'Listen to this,' he went on. 'This thing, like the others, will
blow over. It will be forgotten in a week. Another meeting will be
held--say in South Wales, more windows will be broken, another young
man's head cracked, and Chester-le-Street (God-forsaken place, never
heard of it!) will be forgotten.'

Horner sat looking with hollow eyes at the young Irishman, his lips
twitching, his fingers interlocked--there is nothing makes so
complete a coward of a man as a woman's love. Conyngham laughed as
the notion unfolded itself in his mind. He might, as he himself had
said, be of no great brain power, but he was at all events a man and
a brave one. He stood a full six foot, and looked down at his
companion, who sat whitefaced and shrinking.