known.

As Erris Boyne talked to him, the memory of Sheila flooded his mind,
and on the flood his senses swam like swans. He had not her careful
composure. He was just as real, but he had the wilfulness of man. She
influenced him as no woman had ever yet done; but he saw no happy ending
to the dream. He was too poor to marry; he had no trade or profession;
his father's affairs were in a bad way. He could not bring himself to
join the army or the navy; and yet, as an Irishman moved by political
ideals, with views at once critical and yet devoted to the crown, he was
not in a state to settle down.

He did not know that Erris Boyne was set to capture him for the rebel
cause. How could he know that Boyne was an agent of the most evil forces
in Ireland--an agent of skill and address, prepossessing, with the face
of a Celtic poet and the eye of an assassin?

Boyne's object was to bring about the downfall of Dyck Calhoun--that is,
his downfall as a patriot. At the Breakneck Club this bad business
began. Dyck had seen many people, representing the gaiety and deviltry
of life; but it was as though many doubtful people, many reckless ones,
all those with purposes, fads, and fancies, were there. Here was an
irresponsible member of a Government department; there an officer of His
Majesty's troops; beyond, a profligate bachelor whose reputation for
traitorous diplomacy was known and feared. Yet everywhere were men known
in the sporting, gaming, or political world, in sea life or land life,
most of whom had a character untouched by criticism.

It was at this club that Dyck again met that tall, ascetic messenger from
the Attorney-General, who had brought the message to Miles Calhoun. It