Mrs. Lewson shook her head. Beyond all doubt the young master was in
danger. But Miss Iris ought to have known his nature better than to
suppose that he would beat a retreat, if all the land-leaguers in
Ireland threatened him together. No! It was his bold way to laugh at
danger. He had left his farm to visit a friend in the next county; and
it was shrewdly guessed that a young lady who was staying in the house
was the attraction which had kept him so long away. "Anyhow, he means
to come back to-morrow," Mrs. Lewson said. "I wish he would think
better of it, and make his escape to England while he has the chance.
If the savages in these parts must shoot somebody, I'm here--an old
woman that can't last much longer. Let them shoot me."
Iris asked if Arthur's safety was assured in the next county, and in
the house of his friend.
"I can't say, Miss; I have never been to the house. He is in danger if
he persists in coming back to the farm. There are chances of shooting
him all along his road home. Oh, yes; he knows it, poor dear, as well
as I do. But, there!--men like him are such perverse creatures. He
takes his rides just as usual. No; he won't listen to an old woman like
me; and, as for friends to advise him, the only one of them that has
darkened our doors is a scamp who had better have kept away.
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