“What the devil’s that?” said the squire.

“It means,” returned his expected son-in-law, “that she must be well watched, but without feeling that she is so.”

“Would it not be better to lock her up at once?” said her father.  “That would be making the matter sure.”

“Not at all,” replied Whitecraft.  “So sure as you lock her up, so sure she will break prison.”

“Well, upon my soul,” replied her father.  “I can’t see that.  A strong lock and key are certainly the best surety for the due appearance of any young woman disposed to run away.  I think the best way would be to make her feel at once that her father is a magistrate, and commit her to her own room until called upon to appear.”

Whitecraft, whose object was occasionally to puzzle his friend, gave a cold grin, and added: 

“I suppose your next step would be to make her put in security.  No—­no, Mr. Folliard; if you will be advised by me, try the soothing system; antiphlogistic remedies are always the best in a case like hers.”

“Anti—­what?  Curse me, if I can understand every tenth word you say.  However, I give you credit, Whitecraft; for upon my soul I didn’t think you knew half so much as you do.  That last, however, is a tickler—­a nut that I can’t crack.  I wish I could only get my tongue about it, till I send it among the Grand Jury, and maybe there wouldn’t be wigs on the green in making it out.”

“Yes, I fancy it would teach them a little supererogation.”

“A little what?  Is it love that has made you so learned, Whitecraft, or so unintelligible, which?  Why, man, if your passion increases, in another week there won’t be three men out of Trinity College able to understand you.  You will become a perfect oracle.  But, in the meantime, let us see how the arrangement stands. Imprimus, you are to hang or transport Keilly; and, until then, I am not to annoy my daughter with any allusions to this marriage:  but, above all things, not to compare you and Reilly with one another in her presence, lest it might strengthen her prejudices against you.”

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Folliard.  I did not say so; I fear no comparison with the fellow.”

“No matter, Sir Robert, if you did not knock it down you staggered it.  Omitting the comparison, however, I suppose that so far I am right.”

“I think so, sir,” replied the other, conscious, “after all, that he had got a touch of ’Roland for his Oliver’.”

Then he proceeded:  “I’m to watch her closely, only she’s not to know it.  Now, I’ll tell you what, Sir Robert, I know you carry a long noddle, with more hard words in it than I ever gave you credit for—­but with regard to what you expect from me now—­”

“I don’t mean that you should watch her personally yourself, Mr. Folliard.”

“I suppose you don’t; I didn’t think you did; but I’ll tell you what—­place the twelve labors of Hercules before me, and I’ll undertake to perform them, if you wish, but to watch a woman, Sir Robert—­and that woman keen and sharp upon the cause of such vigilance—­without her knowing it in one half hour’s time—­that is a task that never was, can, or will be accomplished.  In the meantime, we must only come as near its accomplishment as we can.”