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.