pleased at the freedom of the old butler.

"Bring him as he is," said Miles Calhoun. "Good God!" he added, for he
just realized that the stamp of the seal was that of the Attorney-General
of Ireland.

Then he read the letter and a flush swept over his face, making its red
almost purple.

"Eternal damnation--eternal damnation!" he declared, holding the paper
at arm's length a moment, inspecting it. He then handed it to Dyck.
"Read that, lad. Then pack your bag, for we start for Dublin by daylight
or before."

Dyck read the brief document and whistled softly to himself.

"Well, well, you've got to obey orders like that, I suppose," Dyck said.
"They want to question us as to the state of the country here."

"I think we can tell them something. I wonder if they know how wide your
travel is, how many people you see; and if they know, how did they come
to know? There's spies all over the place. How do I know but the man
who's just left this room isn't a spy, isn't the enemy of all of us
here?"

"I'd suspect Michael Clones," remarked Dyck, "just as soon as Mulvaney."

"Michael Clones," said his father, and he turned to Captain Ivy, "Michael
Clones I'd trust as I'd trust His blessed Majesty, George III. He's a
rare scamp, is Michael Clones! He's no thicker than a cardboard, but he