“Faith, Docther, I have an intended assassin,” answered Pat. “I caught this bonny girleen in front of the parlor window. She had a pistol levelled at one of the ladies’ head[s], as shure as you’re born she did.”

“Who is she, Pat?” inquired the doctor; then, turning to the host, he said: “I am slightly acquainted with this man—” pointing to Pat. “And I believe he means some good by coming here tonight. Who is the girl?”

“I’ll bring her to the light so as ye can see who she is. How can I tell?” grunted Pat as he carried his burthen into the hall. Mrs. Barton looked upon the pale face of the girl and started back aghast, unable to speak a word for some moments. Finally she exclaimed:

“My goodness! It is Kate! And she holds in her hand a large pistol! The pistol that once belonged to my husband. I condemn her myself. She is the one that tried to kill Mattie.”

It was Kate. She still lay unconscious on the floor in the hall. While they are trying to restore her to consciousness, we will enlighten our Readers upon the subject of Kate’s non-appearance at the party that night. She had been invited to the party, but—strange to say—declined the invitation. Well, we will not convict her but let her speak for herself. And, as she is fast regaining consciousness, we will investigate her case at once. Kate opened her eyes and stared wildly around for some moments, then she muttered: “My God! I am caught at last. Caught with the pistol in my hand—Eh? Yes, I have it yet. I will kill myself at once.” As she spoke the words, she raised the pistol and pointed it at the lookers-on, so as to keep them at bay. It must be understood also that she said the above words in a low voice. But Pat heard her—and after she had made the lookers-on stand away a pace or two further, she pointed the pistol toward her head and was only prevented from shooting herself by the timely interference of Pat!

“Would ye destroy yersel, me bonny girleen?” asked he, as he wrested the weapon from her. “Oh no, ye must hev a hearin’ afore the court of justice before ye depart hence.” Kate arose from the floor. Desperation was depicted upon her countenance.

“Now, me girleen, confess yer deeds,” said Pat.

“I am caught, driven to desperation, so I will confess all,” said Kate.

“Bring her into the parlor and we will listen to her,” said Sowers, as he suited action to his word by leading the way into the parlor himself. Kate walked bravely into the parlor, Pat following close behind. Reaching the parlor, Kate said:

“I am now ready to confess—to make a full confession of all I have done to spoil the peace of Brookland—also to exonerate Albert King from all blame in regard to attempting to kill Mattie, for I feel it my duty to do so.”

“If yer fale it yer duty to do so, ye had bether do so,” said Pat in a mocking voice.

“I came here a great deal during last winter,” resumed Kate, not paying any heed to Pat’s mocking, sarcastic words. “And, as I were always very fast, I got insulted at the cool way in which I was entertained, so I vowed I would have vengeance. I began my avenging, as I called it, on Sunday, for I assisted Albert King to get William Reed’s clothes. I loved—and do love—William Reed. I made a compact with Albert King. He was to do all he could to win Ella away from William, and I would do all I could to win William—well, that has nothing to do with my revenge for being insulted. On Monday night, second of April, I went to bed early—very early—but Mother sat up conversing with Wilson Reed. Mother went to her room about ten o’clock. I laid very still in my room until I thought she had gone to sleep, then I got up and put on a suit of miller’s clothes—the suit belonged to William. I went out of the house quietly and came up here to this house. I soon gained accession to Mattie’s room and hid before she came in. I waited until she was sound asleep and then proceeded to her bed, intending to kill her for the cool treatment I had received that day.

“As I raised the knife, Mattie opened her eyes and gave a loud scream. Her scream unnerved me and I could not do what I intended at first, but I did my best to kill her, and in fact, I thought I had. I knew Albert would be suspected, so I was very well satisfied. I came up here on the next day and was very sorry I found her alive. Such was my deadly hate. I then resolved to try something else. Then I became desperate and intended to risk all to win William. So I resolved to do my best to kill Ella, for what could Al do when he was suspected of attempting to kill Mattie? I resolved thus with myself, so I got this very pistol one night in the same week that I stabbed Mattie and, watching [for] an opportunity, I slipped up here and tried to kill Ella, but did not succeed. So time wore on, and tonight I thought I would try and see if I could kill Ella. Just as I had levelled my pistol at her head, this old Irishman grabbed me, and so that winds up my career on Earth. I ask forgiveness of no one, for I do not deserve any forgiveness whatever.”

Everyone present was awe-struck.

“I forgive you, Kate, although you do not ask it. I forgive you,” said Ella, as soon as she could find voice to speak. Mattie looked steadily at Kate for some moments in silence.

“I forgive you too, Kate,” said Mattie. “I hope you may be a better girl hereafter.”

Kate looked at the two young ladies in surprise; then a melancholy look came over her features as she remembered how wicked she had been. “My hereafter is not in this world.” The words fell desperately from her lips. “I am through with this world and want to get out of it. I have nothing to live for, so I will and must die!”

As she spoke the last words she made a desperate lunge at Pat and tried to wrest the pistol from his hand. But the wily son of the Emerald Isle proved to be too powerful an antagonist for her, so she was compelled to relinquish the idea of entering the hereafter, for a while, at least.

“Ah no, me bonny lassie, you can’t do that,” said Pat as he caught both her hands in an ice-like grip in his own.

One thing was remarkable about our Son of Erin: his face was so soft and white that he did not much resemble an Irishman, but he had on the inevitable green.^[1]

“Well, Pat, where did you come from?” inquired Sowers, as soon as Kate was under control and general quietness reigned supreme. “Are you just from Erin-go-bragh?”^[2]

“Faith, no. I am from New England. That gentleman knows me,” said Pat, pointing to Dr. Maltby. “I heve been to see him several times at his office.”

“Yes, I am acquainted with Pat,” asserted the doctor. “And Pat,” said he, turning to and addressing that individual, “Pat, I wish to speak to you in private—come out on the porch a moment.”

The doctor started, but Pat said: “Not jes’ yet, Docther. I must fix this young lassie comfortably, so as she can enjoy the party. I heve somethin’ more to say to her afther ’while, if she will only be quiet an’ listen.”

“I do not wish to hear anything at all,” said Kate, a desperate gleam in her eyes.

“Yis, but ye must heer somethin’,” muttered Pat as he led her to the furthest corner of the room—the furthest from the door which led out into the hall.

“I tell you, I don’t want to hear anything,” protested Kate. “I don’t want to live.”

“Ye don’t want to hear anything and don’t want to live,” repeated Pat. “Well, I will not tire your pashunce wid tellin’ you anythin’, but I will tell you some one thing that will interest you.”

Although Kate was “desperate” and “didn’t want to live,” Pat’s words aroused and excited her curiosity to the highest pitch. Women in general have great curiosity—especially for investigating and revealing secrets^[3]—and Kate was not an exception to the general rule. Her eyes brightened at hearing Pat’s words.

“Well, tell me now if you are going to,” said Kate sullenly. “Although I am not caring whether I hear you or not.”

“Oh me lassie, you can sit there awhile first,” said Pat. “Yer are nervous now an’ it won’t do to excite you too much.” Then, turning to the “docther,” Pat said: “Come on, Docther, I want to speak to ye.” The doctor followed without a word.

While they are going, we will employ ourselves by making a few casual remarks in regard to our characters.

Kate sat there in the corner of the room looking very sullen. Mrs. Beverly, thinking it was time to terminate the silence, said: “That doctor’s name is Maltby, didn’t you say, Mr. Sowers?” She turned inquiringly to Sowers. Sowers started up as if awakened by a vivid dream.

“Yes, madam, his name is Maltby,” said Sowers. “He has been here a long, long while.”

The lady looked disappointed, but she continued in an anxious voice: “What is the other part of his name? Does any of you know?” queried she.

“Indeed we do not,” said Sowers, speaking for all. “We have always called him Doctor, and he has never told us any other name except Maltby. In fact, I never thought of his name until you mentioned [it].”

There was a short silence.

“Where is Mr. Kent, Mr. Sowers?” inquired Mr. Beverly. “I have not seen him yet. I thought at first perhaps he was out doors somewhere and would soon return.”

“I am not able to say where Mr. Kent is,” answered Sowers. “He often goes off in that way, but I didn’t think he would do so this evening, as he knew you were coming, and he seems to think a great deal of you, for he talks often of Mr. and Mrs. Beverly and [their] daughter. I guess he will be in before a great while.”

Ella and Mattie were entertaining their new acquaintances to the best of their ability, also casting an occasional glance at Kate, the schemer, avenger, and would-be “felo-de-se.”^[4]

Herbert, Hugh, William, and Albert were also conversing in low tones. Other guests began to arrive, and the two parlors were separated—the one for the young people and the other for the settled ones, for none were very old. As Pat and the doctor have reached the porch, we will listen to hear what they have to say “in private.”

“Well, my man, what news?” inquired the doctor. “Have you brought me good news?”

“I have indade, sur. I have brought you joyful intilligince,” answered Pat jubilantly. “Docther, ye jes go in and, as they heve separated the parlors, you get Wilse Reed, Mrs. Barton, Kate, Mr. Sowers, Mrs. Sowers and darter, also Meister Beverly, wife and darter, and Mrs. King and son. Get them in one room to themselves. Thin I will tell ye a tale.” The doctor hardly waited for Pat to complete his order before he was in the parlor. His task was easily completed—in fact, all the persons Pat had named were in there except Mattie and William. The doctor called Pat and that individual quickly responded.

He walked into the middle of the room, a smile of satisfaction upon his face. He gazed leisurely around as if to assure himself that they were all there. After gazing to his satisfaction he quietly locked the door. Sowers protested but was quieted by the doctor. Pat walked again to the middle of the room, and pointing unmistakably at Mrs. Beverly, he said:

“Doctor Robert Maltby, there is your long-lost sister!”