Blind Love | Page 2

disturbed the repose of Dennis Howmore, at his place of
residence in the pleasant Irish town of Ardoon.
Well acquainted apparently with the way upstairs, the man thumped on
a bed-room door, and shouted his message through it: "The master
wants you, and mind you don't keep him waiting."
The person sending this peremptory message was Sir Giles Mountjoy
of Ardoon, knight and banker. The person receiving the message was
Sir Giles's head clerk. As a matter of course, Dennis Howmore dressed
himself at full speed, and hastened to his employer's private house on
the outskirts of the town.
He found Sir Giles in an irritable and anxious state of mind. A letter lay
open on the banker's bed, his night-cap was crumpled crookedly on his
head, he was in too great a hurry to remember the claims of politeness,
when the clerk said "Good morning."
"Dennis, I have got something for you to do. It must be kept a secret,
and it allows of no delay."
"Is it anything connected with business, sir?"
The banker lost his temper. "How can you be such an infernal fool as to
suppose that anything connected with business could happen at this
time in the morning? Do you know the first milestone on the road to
Garvan?"
"Yes, sir."
"Very well. Go to the milestone, and take care that nobody sees you
when you get there. Look at the back of the stone. If you discover an
Object which appears to have been left in that situation on the ground,
bring it to me; and don't forget that the most impatient man in all
Ireland is waiting for you."
Not a word of explanation followed these extraordinary instructions.

The head clerk set forth on his errand, with his mind dwelling on the
national tendencies to conspiracy and assassination. His employer was
not a popular person. Sir Giles had paid rent when he owed it; and,
worse still, was disposed to remember in a friendly spirit what England
had done for Ireland, in the course of the last fifty years. If anything
appeared to justify distrust of the mysterious Object of which he was in
search, Dennis resolved to be vigilantly on the look-out for a gun-barrel,
whenever he passed a hedge on his return journey to the town.
Arrived at the milestone, he discovered on the ground behind it one
Object only--a fragment of a broken tea-cup.
Naturally enough, Dennis hesitated. It seemed to be impossible that the
earnest and careful instructions which he had received could relate to
such a trifle as this. At the same time, he was acting under orders which
were as positive as tone, manner, and language could make them.
Passive obedience appeared to be the one safe course to take--at the
risk of a reception, irritating to any man's self-respect, when he
returned to his employer with a broken teacup in his hand.
The event entirely failed to justify his misgivings. There could be no
doubt that Sir Giles attached serious importance to the contemptible
discovery made at the milestone. After having examined and
re-examined the fragment, he announced his intention of sending the
clerk on a second errand--still without troubling himself to explain
what his incomprehensible instructions meant.
"If I am not mistaken," he began, "the Reading Rooms, in our town,
open as early as nine. Very well. Go to the Rooms this morning, on the
stroke of the clock." He stopped, and consulted the letter which lay
open on his bed. "Ask the librarian," he continued, "for the third
volume of Gibbon's 'Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.' Open the
book at pages seventy-eight and seventy-nine. If you find a piece of
paper between those two leaves, take possession of it when nobody is
looking at you, and bring it to me. That's all, Dennis. And bear in mind
that I shall not recover the use of my patience till I see you again."
On ordinary occasions, the head clerk was not a man accustomed to

insist on what was due to his dignity. At the same time he was a
sensible human being, conscious of the consideration to which his
responsible place in the office entitled him. Sir Giles's irritating reserve,
not even excused by a word of apology, reached the limits of his
endurance. He respectfully protested.
"I regret to find, sir," he said, "that I have lost my place in my
employer's estimation. The man to whom you confide the
superintendence of your clerks and the transaction of your business has,
I venture to think, some claim (under the present circumstances) to be
trusted."
The banker was now offended on his side.
"I readily admit your claim," he answered, "when you are sitting at
your desk in my office. But, even in these