"I am afraid that is impossible," he said.
"But why? Sure the fellow has nothing to do but sleep, and he may as well sleep here as in his own quarters."
"On duty? Now that the bank's robbed, I suppose he's guarding it? The horse is stolen, so you lock the door of the empty stable, Mr. Durham; but where there's a chance of another horse being stolen you let it look after itself as best it may. And that's what you call doing your duty and earning the money we poor unfortunate taxpayers have to provide for you!"
"I am afraid I cannot discuss that matter with you, Mrs. Burke," he said coldly.
"No!" she retorted hotly. "No, you can't. All you can do is to put the only constable in the place to guard an empty bank----"
"There is a reason why Brennan should remain in the township to-night. It is therefore quite impossible for him to come out here--as well as being unnecessary."
She flounced round and resumed her rapid striding until old Patsy appeared with the tea.
"Make haste, now, Patsy, make haste!" she exclaimed. "Sure you are the slowest old fool ever set on the earth to delay and keep people waiting."
The old man, mumbling to himself, set the meal and left the room.
"Now, Mr. Durham, just make yourself at home with such scant hospitality as I can show you. If it was in Ireland, sure I'd give you a meal worth the eating, but here, with me not knowing whether I'm to own this place or not, and without a soul about it save useless old Patsy to do a hand's turn, you'll understand it's only a poor pot-luck sort of spread at the best I can offer. But such as it is, it is offered with a free heart, though you are going to leave me to be murdered by the scoundrels whenever they like to come."
"You will laugh at your fears to-morrow," Durham said as he drew up to the table.
"They are not fears, Mr. Durham. You don't know; you're not Irish, and so don't understand, but Brennan would. It's not fear. It's what we term presentiment. Not all the Irish have it, but only some of them. It's my misfortune to be one of them. I have it. Sure I was tortured the whole of last night, what with anxiety and sleeplessness and worry, and all through that wretched bank affair. It was presentiment. I tried to laugh myself out of it, but as soon as I got into the township this very morning, what did I hear? Of course, you know. Well, now I have just the same feeling that to-night there's to be more dirty work by those thieving scoundrels, and it's here they're coming this time, here--and I'm to be left to their mercy, just one poor weak, defenceless woman and an old half-witted fool of a man. It makes me just----"