My Lords of Strogue, Vol. 2 (of 3)

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My Lords of Strogue, Vol. 2 (of 3) Page 4

by Lewis Wingfield


  CHAPTER IV.

  WE PIPED UNTO YOU.

  So the "Irish Slave" was destroyed by fire, and its hapless occupant,finding that no redress might be obtained through, Miss Wolfe, crawledto the Little House, where she was taken in by its kind mistress, whoin her turn received, a few minutes later, a visit from Major Sirr. Hepointed out with deferential politeness to the good-humoured damethat, as a Catholic possessing property, it was scarcely wise toharbour traitors, whereat the stout lady broke into her hearty laughand invited him to lunch.

  'Is it me, meejor, that causes the Secret Council to shiver in theirshoes,' she asked, 'with a Protestant daughter to go bail for me, andmeeself, all but the fine airs, an aristocrat? Not but what OllamFodlah, mee ancestor, was better than the best of the stuck-upcrathers! I'm a "no-party woman," as all the world knows, just as thebuckramed bag-o'-bones at the Abbey foreninst us is a "no-poperywoman." Let my ould collough be; she was my nurse, and won't troubleany one for long. Come in. Ye shall taste a gulp of my fine claretjust to show there's no spite betune us--the very same, on my word ofhonour, as Justice Carleton and Judge Clonmel have such a tooth for.'

  And Major Sirr pledged his hostess in his best manner, with a smirk onhis thin features and a worldly twinkle glimmering from under hisbushy brows, and departed presently to report at the Castle that MadamGillin was a staunch loyalist who had miraculously escaped the taintwhich poisoned most ladies of her creed.

  When he had departed, the good lady's face lost its dimples and grewlong.

  'That wicked fellow will bring them all to the gallows,' she mutteredto herself, frowning at some one she saw in her mind's eye who was notMajor Sirr. 'And my lips are sealed! It's a fearsome thing to have towatch what's going on, and not dare speak a word of warning. If heonly didn't know that I take Norah to the mass! Yet I'm bound to do mybest for the child's soul, though my lord would have her brought up aProtestant. Sure Father Daly said I must bring the pet to chapel forher soul's sake as well as mine.'

  Then Madam Gillin, who was dividing the sheep from the goats in thematter of faded frippery in an untidy cupboard, resigned herself tounwonted meditation, with lines of gravity about her mouth whichseldom rested there, as she recalled the day some time since, when hewhom she had looked upon as friend unveiled himself to her in drunkenfrenzy as a viper; when she had stared into his big jolly face with anexpression that had sobered him, while he explained that for thefuture she must do as she was bidden, or else all sorts of penaltieswould swoop upon her for tampering with the religion of a Protestant.On that occasion he fairly terrified her, and she kept the secret asto his being a viper in disguise, though it sickened her to think ofit o' nights. She recalled the scene now for the thousandth time, andshuddered; and her best frock slipped out of her hands on the dirtyfloor while she contemplated that genial pleasant boon companion asshe and only a few others knew him. Norah found her standing absentlyamong crumpled gauzes when she returned from a jaunt to Dublin, andrallied her mother on her looks, with a smacking kiss like awhip-crack.

  'Have ye heard a banshee, mamma?' she asked. 'See! I've done all thecommissions. Feathers a foot long, lovely flowers for our skirts, andgloves to cover the elbow. I met Shane upon the road, and we wenttogether; but I could not wheedle him into coming to the ball, thoughI did my best. He said the grand ladies frightened him--bored him morelikely. He's mighty timid for a Blaster. It's a wonder he's not afraidof _me_.'

  As the girl surveyed herself archly in the glass, she perceived whyher lover feared her not. Indeed there was little of the grand styleabout the colleen. A rosy cheek; a liquid merry eye; a large ripemouth, and an impudent upturned nose. No classical belle was poorNorah--only a healthy, comely wench--just such an one as would belikely to enchain a man with no loftier aspirations than Glandore's.

  Though mamma was inclined to be glum, her daughter was in the highestspirits; for before her was the delicious prospect of the ball (suchgaieties were becoming rarer and more rare), and she was quiteconvinced, from what Shane had said, that that spiteful cat thecountess had lied when conversing at Crow Street with Lady Camden. Itwas true, certainly, that he was going away for a few weeks. Itappeared that he had duties to perform, and she liked him too well tostand in the way of his duties. But as to that sinful, deceitful,odious story about bringing home a bride, the notion was quite toofoolish. He had sworn as much with entrancing kisses, and was she notdelighted to believe him? Why, there would be only two ladies of theparty, he averred. Did his little goose suppose that he could lead hisown mother to the altar? As for Doreen, the idea was quite aspreposterous. Her frigid ways and tiresome national wrongs were not tohis taste at all. Therefore Miss Norah was quite content, though shehad just bidden her lover farewell. She would see him no more forseveral months, perhaps; for, to avoid attending a ball whereobjectionable fine ladies would congregate, my lord had settled toride as _avant courier_ to Drogheda, to superintend the preparationsat the inn where my lady and the household were to sojourn.

  Though the volcano was heaving in portentous fashion, society seemedof one mind as to dancing jigs upon it to the last. Upon formalproclamation of martial law, the yeomanry had thrown off all disguise.The squireens were ruffianly through ignorance, their betters throughself-interest, for it was easy to detect which way the wind wasblowing. The chancellor was plainly for harsh measures. 'I will makethese Irish as tame as cats,' he was heard incautiously to say. It wasto be a war of class against class, in which both parties wereartistically goaded by dark suspicions and deftly-spread falsehoods.Internecine strife is always remarkable for a display of the vilestpassions. It seems as if the flow of gall is the more bitter from thedifficulty of first pumping it to the surface. Major Sirr and his gangtook to prowling in the night-houses--to making evening raids ontaverns--a species of political crimping which was fruitful ofbrilliant hawls. Lists were even despatched to the Staghouse by Mr.Secretary Cooke that the town-major's lambs might study them, and'pencil off such as they deemed dangerous to the country.' Bands ofarmed squireens sallied out in the mad frolics begot by drink, to'give their opinion' to the disaffected, and the result was such asuccession of night-brawls that Lord Clare was sorry and hurt.

  'What are we to do with these depraved turbulent creatures?' heplaintively inquired of the cabinet. And one and all--Arthur Wolfeeven reluctantly consenting--admitted that stringent measures wereimperative, or anarchy would surely supervene. So an order went forththat none should appear in Dublin streets after eight o'clock p.m.,unless armed with a special permit to do so. The theatres were closed.The city was in a state of siege, as though really Hoche were at itsgates.

  But this was too dull for my lords and my ladies, who were not givento reading books, and had no intention that annoyance should fall uponthemselves. They met for cards at one another's houses, their sedansprotected by retinues of servants; but this was a poor pastime tofolks who were accustomed to the public dances of FishambleStreet--the sumptuous entertainments at the Castle. They grumbled thatthis premature alarm was ridiculous. The French were not in Ireland,though the 'Shan van Vocht' was wont lyrically to declare at all hoursof the day that they were on the sea. As for the United Irishmen, theywere a 'Bugaboo.' With the troops which had been sent over anyattempted rising could be frustrated at once; but they would not be sostupid as to rise--the tongues of these foul-mouthed patriots weremore killing than their swords. My Lord Clare must be losing hisnerve, he was not severe enough. They--the lords, urged by theirladies--would see that a proper spirit of terror was instilled intothe scum, so that even if called on by their chiefs to rise, theywould sit like beaten hounds--their tails between their legs. LordClare looked at Lord Camden from under his beetling penthouse. LordCamden looked at Lord Clare and hummed, and hawed, and shuffled. Forthe unfortunate gentleman who represented majesty, though he lived asmuch as he could, like some Japanese monarch behind screens, could nothide himself so well but that unpleasant speeches reached his ears. Heh
ad consented tacitly to make a Guy Fawkes of himself, and permit thebearers of the pageant to explode malodorous squibs under his nose;but when the evil savours choked him he winced in tribulation. He grewto hate his tormentor well-nigh as much as the people did, which wasno little. But Lord Clare's day of triumph seemed in nowise on thewane--everything went as he wished it to go. His ruthless bearing hadmade him a despot in the imbecile senate. His colleagues, forgettingtheir rank, their country, and their dignity, yielded to the spell ofhis dictation as a fascinated bird drops before the snake. The lettersof congratulation which he received from Pitt and others wereaccumulating within his escritoire. So soon as he should have tamedthe tiger-Irish, how great would his reward be! He saw in thedistance a vision no longer dim. An English peerage. A position in theEnglish House of Lords, where great statesmen should listen to hisperiods--where Nestors should encourage his ambition. There seemed noend to the gorgeous vista. Why not some day assume the place of Pitthimself, who, though young, was (at least the world said so) eaten upby debauchery and excess? And what was there which stood 'twixthimself and this glorious prospect? His own country, its interests,its safety, its political existence--nothing more! Pooh! Time workswonders. Things were going well. If those idiots would only fall uponthe swords which were held out to them, there was no knowing whatmight not be accomplished. The Hibernian lords and gentlemen were in afair way of exhibiting themselves to the odium of the world. Havingdanced their infernal dance at the bidding of those who clutched thepurse-strings, they would make a sorry figure when the latter spurnedthem in disgust. What would they do then? Only sink lower still, andbecome more abject, till the pit of degradation should know no deeperdepth. That was the way to work on them! To hold out threats thatpensions would not be paid unless certain dirty work was done. Todeclare then that it was much too dirty--that by disobeyinginstructions they had forfeited the right to sit in the presence ofdecent people; that, having gone so far, all sense of respect must beabandoned; that, honour being lost, nothing was left to them butmoney; that with their own guilty hands they must cut the throat oftheir legislature, and drown remorse so long as the blood-money shouldlast. This was to be the crowning edifice of my Lord Clare's scheme;and Mr. Pitt laughed a sardonic laugh as he tied a wet towel round histhrobbing temples. He had got very drunk and lost at whist, had thegay young British premier; but the excellence of this conceit causedhim to grin, despite his headache.

  'This Irishman,' he laughed, 'talks monstrous fine about the low ebbto which the Irish lords have sunk--forgetting that his own place islower still than theirs; but he does his burrowing with rare ability.'

  So Lord Clare worked and wormed with consummate diplomacy and tact,while those who employed him despised their tool in increasing ratiowith his success; and Lord Camden's seat of thorns became daily moregalling, and the silly mice gambolled with a recklessness whichcompelled pity--and old Father Time hurried on, afraid to look behindhim.

  My lords and my ladies, finding Dublin very dull, began to vent theirspleen. The chancellor therefore saw that he must break the ice, whichhad been freezing up too rapidly. He announced, accordingly, that theCastle festivities would not be postponed, as had been intended. Thegrand ball, usually given on Christmas Eve, would take place a weeklater instead--no other change would result from the threatening stateof affairs. Gentlemen, however, were requested to wear their swords;for all sorts of rumours were abroad, which the executive sincerelyhoped were merely the invention of the enemy. How any enemy could beso heartless as to plot and conspire against so angelic an executive,etc., etc., as usual.

  That the great ball was really to take place, was hailed withuniversal delight. Everybody knows St. Patrick's hall--its magnificentproportions, the suite of state-rooms to which it leads; the splendidstaircases, balconies, lobbies; ideal spots for flirtation--orconspiracy. All parties, patriotic and the reverse, rejoiced atprospect of this _fete_, for several reasons.

  Sirr and his Battalion of Testimony were becoming soubiquitous--informers had a way of turning up so unexpectedly--that itgrew daily more difficult to hit on a place of meeting secure fromtheir spying presence. Of course only gentlemen and ladies 'to thebackbone' could expect to gain admittance to Castle dinners andconcerts; but with the St. Patrick balls it was otherwise. Theseassemblies bore so official a character that respectable citizens ofall denominations were certain of receiving an invitation. Lord Clare,aware of this, had made his calculations. The United Irishmen weresure to be there in force; it would not be his fault if they did notflounder into a hole.

  It was for this ball on New Year's Eve that Norah Gillin had goneforth to purchase ribbons and plumes. It was for this ball that myLady Glandore had waited--after which she and Miss Wolfe were to startfor Donegal, changing their gala-dresses at the first stage upon theroad.

  Sara, who burned to see Robert and hear how his red-hot speech at thedebating society had been received, importuned her father with unusualeagerness to take her to this ball. Was his little primrose becomingworldly? he inquired, with a gloomy smile. No, no! Twinkling feetshould go with light hearts. Whose hearts might be light at this awfulcrisis? His girl must stop at home and say her prayers for Erin, andhe would soothe himself and her by strains on the violoncello. Thatinstrument was constantly in his hand now, whenever he was at home;and folks trembled as they passed by at night, for sure such dreadfulsounds must come from the damned in agony!

  Mr. Curran was exceeding sick at heart. His friend Wolfe upbraided himconstantly for too openly opposing Government; whilst, on the otherhand, anonymous letters arrived by dozens, abusing him forlukewarmness in the cause. He shook his head at the latter, muttering,as he tossed them into the fire, 'Blind fools! Mine is the waitinggame. Ye'll be glad enough by-and-by that I stood neutral!'

  But on the morning of the 29th a report came to the lawyer's earswhich filled him with amazement. He put aside his beloved violoncello,and trotted to Dublin to see Emmett, Russell, Bond. The report wastrue, he found. Vainly he argued and protested--vowed that to savethem from their madness he must go and tell Lord Clare. No! He wouldnot betray them, but would go and intercede. The chancellor was not athome to him, though he saw him come from behind a curtain; so,retiring disconsolately to the Priory, he bade Sara fetch out hergewgaws, as he must even take her to the Castle after all.

  St. Patrick's hall was crowded when he and his child entered it--shein a white muslin dress, with a single frilling round its short skirt,a scarf of soft green about her neck, for the night was bitter, andthe dancing-room beset by draughts. It was a gay assemblage, forGeneral Lake (who had arrived recently) and all his staff were presentin glittering English uniforms, which were not to be outdone insplendour by the officers of Irish militia. Even Mr. Curran'sunmartial figure was buckramed in gold and scarlet, for was not he tooan officer of the Lawyer's corps, which forbade its members to wearmufti?

  The national love of parade showed strongly in the martial costumewhich the sons of Erin donned. Sumptuous embroidery was scatteredwith a lavish hand over cuffs, high collars, padded breasts, andtight-fitting pantaloons; while some regiments, whose colonelsboasted of picturesque proclivities, were grand in the matter ofshoulder-knots and becoming scarves around the waist. The effect wasenhanced by contrast, for metal ornaments were little used at that dayto adorn the dresses of the fair, who with towering ostrich feathers,silken fillets, lofty wreaths of flowers, could afford to resign totheir lords and masters the glories of gold and silver. Variety oftexture, too, heightened the fine effect; for whilst men were swathedquite stiff in gold-laced coats and voluminous cravats, young ladieswore as little as possible, and that of thinnest gauze or crape, andtheir mammas the scantiest quantity of shot or patterned silk.

  The scene was the more animated for the strangeness of its componentparts. Irish patriotic belles were putting forth all their attractionsto pump young English exquisites--aides-de-camp to Lake orAbercromby--to entrap them into unguarded statements, which mightconvey useful information to their broth
ers. General Lake himself wasliterally besieged by beauty, who lavished before that vain person thefascination of neat ankles, the flash of diamond eyes, the charms ofpouting bosoms--in order to wring from him, in spite of caution, somehint of the intentions of the military. This was a game open to bothparties. Aides-de-camp were instructed to ensnare their partners as tothe plans of the United Irishmen; to discover, if possible, under themask of innocent flirtation, who the acting delegates were, what weretheir views, their capacities, their characters; but it must beadmitted that the weak sex generally had the best of it, forhot-headed youth is apt to be distracted by externals, and the costumeof the period was characterised by peculiarities which were calculatedto mislead young men.

  This practice of seeking the society of political opponents for thepurpose of discovering secrets, and of frustrating designs by slyhand-pressure or furtive kissing behind doors, was one quite after theburrowing heart of the astute lord chancellor, who stood smiling bythe side of the throne, his dapper figure clothed in official costume,his neat limbs displaying their roundness in black silk breeches andstockings. He was chatting with my Lady Glandore, who with Doreensat close to Lady Camden, directing her attention to some prettiergirl than usual--(where are more to be found than in the Irishcapital?)--some peculiar headdress or _outre_ garment. Nothing couldseem more guileless than he, as he busied his pure soul withtrifles--the colour of a shoe--the fashion of a sash. When Curran andSara entered he changed colour, muttering ere he recovered himself:'What brings him here, I wonder?'

  He was not left long in suspense; for the lawyer bowed before theViceroy, made straight for my lady's bench, and having deposited Saraby Doreen, began to speak abruptly in undertones.

  'I tried to see you to-day, my lord, and could not. We were friendsonce, though it is long since we quarrelled. Yet I feel impelled tomake one more protest. You are driving this unhappy country to thebrink of a great tragedy. You, and you alone, are responsible forthis. It is not yet too late, but to-morrow it may be. Reflect, LordClare, while yet there's time!'

  Curran grasped the chancellor's arm in his earnestness.

  'Do you refer to the United Irishmen?' drawled the latter.

  'Do not despise your enemy, my lord. That association at first wassmall,' pursued Curran, 'the earth seemed to drink it as a rivulet. Athousand streams, through the secret windings of the earth, foundtheir way to one source and swelled its waters; it is prepared now toburst forth as a great river--what will its cataracts not sweep away?It is you, my lord, who will have aggravated sedition into rebellion.'

  'Dear, dear!' smiled Lord Clare. 'Do you, too, listen to theirclaptrap? I say to you, as I've said openly all along, nothing can bemore lenient than the executive! We stand simply on the defensive. Idon't mind telling you in confidence,' he continued, eyeing hiscompanion askance, 'that there is a plot which is to be carried out atthis very ball to-night, for kidnapping his excellency and your humbleservant, and locking us up somewhere quite cosy and comfortable.Audacious and clever, is it not? Yes, we have all the details--indeed,we had them yesterday, which may account to you for the muster oftroops in the yard below, and the display of scarlet on the stairs andin the corridors. Clever, but, oh dear, how wild! I hope for their ownsakes that the troops will daunt them; for nothing could come of thisbut an unseemly scuffle which would distress the ladies. Would youlike to hear the rest of the plot? If these fools shall succeed inpossessing themselves of our valuable carcases, a rocket is to be sentup from the corner of Ormond's quay, when two parties will startsimultaneously--one to seize the artillery at Chapelizod, the other tosurprise Newgate and Kilmainham. You look astonished. Well you may,for it is indeed astonishing.'

  Curran looked deeply pained, but made no reply. The chancellor's coldflippant tones pierced his heart like knives. How could a band ofunwary, warm-hearted, impulsive fellows, who were prepared to dare allfor motherland, cope with this hard calculating schemer? Truly, it waswell for them that _he_ was there. The feeblest arm may be nerved bywrong for miracles. It was news of this rash project which had changedhis plans as to the ball. He saw at a glance that it wasimpracticable. He had explained this to those whom it concerned; thatit was an impossible compromise between those of the Directory whowished to wait, and those others who were for commencing a regular warthis winter, which could be productive of nothing but disaster. Theenthusiasm of the delegates had simply exasperated him. The God ofbattles, they said, was always on the side of right! Was He? Such hadnot been the experience of Mr. Curran's schooling. All he could do wasto intercede with those in power--to make a final call on theirhumanity; and if that failed, humbly to bend the knee to Providence.

  He was moving away when Lord Clare stopped him.

  'Mr. Curran,' he said, with a winning show of teeth, 'as you said, weonce were friends; why not again? It's not my fault, mind. The heroicrole no doubt is charming; but, believe me, fitted more foradolescence than for men in middle life. You aim at becoming thechampion of the oppressed. You will come to grief with them, I fear.'

  'In a general intoxication the most grievous of offenders is he whopasses the cup, refusing to be degraded,' snapped the lawyer.

  'Rebuking by importunate sobriety the indecent revelry around--eh, Mr.Curran?' laughed the chancellor. 'That's a fit finish to your period,I think. What a mistake it is when orators forget that they are notalways addressing juries or constituents.'

  As the lawyer plunged into the crowd, Lord Clare muttered:

  'Damn him, he can't be bought; let us try what traps will do.' Thencried with the artlessness of infancy, 'Miss Wolfe! Miss Wolfe! Whatmakes you look so animated? The statue has come to life while I'vebeen gossiping with that eccentric friend of ours.'

  Pupil of Machiavelli! He knew as well as did Doreen, though his backwas turned--for he had a way of looking aslant like a hare--that aparty of young men had just appeared in the grand doorway, who notlong since were suffering as traitors. Tom Emmett and his associatespresented themselves before their natural enemy, the Viceroy; thenretired into a side-room to deliberate. Things were going wrong, yetthe Emmetts did not despair. Tom had fought with all his might incouncil against the kidnapping scheme--in vain--and was no littlerelieved when he discovered that the massing of troops about theCastle had rendered this plot abortive. As they marched up the grandstaircase the delegates scrutinised each soldier who stood upright andimpassive on each step. One hummed between his teeth of a 'greenbough,' but met with no response. The executive fell into no errors.These soldiers, ostensibly placed there as a new spectacle for Dublineyes, belonged to a regiment just landed, who could not by anypossibility know aught about a green bough, or care about it, orbestow mysterious sidewinks upon such as chose to babble of it. Themine had through treachery of some sort been countermined. Those twoparties who were waiting in ambush for a signal must wait and shiverin the cold; there could be no starting either for Chapelizod orKilmainham. Perhaps they would all agree now to place firmer faith intheir chief--to trust to the judgment of him who stood in the shoes ofTone. Why, the French might be under weigh by this time. A prettything it would be if upon his landing Hoche found the ground alreadycut from beneath his feet by the precipitancy of his Irish allies!They had been awaiting intelligence for weeks. Terence would returnanon with news--something tangible on which to build up futureedifices.

  At mention of Terence a shade of coldness came over the faces of someof the young men. Cassidy--who was in splendid military garb, whichmade his stalwart figure look like a modern Mars--had joined them ontheir entry; and chid them severely now for daring to be suspicious ofMr. Crosbie.

  'What matters it,' he asked, 'about his brother's views? Brothersusually take up opinions as diametrically opposed as possible, asthough to establish a family balance.' He himself who spoke, whom nonewould presume to suspect, had angled after Councillor Crosbie as aninvaluable accession to their ranks; had angled in vain for long,till the Orr atrocity had roused even him. He, Cassidy, their oldboon-companion, who would give
his lifeblood for any of them, would gobail for the honesty of Terence. 'His honesty, forsooth! The suspicionwas ludicrous. What had he to gain by joining them, in proportionwith what he lost? He, an aristocrat, who might be Earl of Glandoreto-morrow--his brother being the fighting champion of the Cherokees.'

  Robert followed suit with grateful glances at Cassidy. 'Their faithhad been shaken by Miss Wolfe, than whom there was no patriot moreearnest. But they must remember that Miss Wolfe, masculine and shrewdas by whiffs she seemed, was a woman who was, like all women, guidedby her heart rather than her head. Terence, for aught he knew, mighthave been worshipping at some other shrine than hers, which, to awoman's mind, would be quite excuse enough for allowing private maliceto trip up public good. Terence had been his (Robert's) friend foryears. Aye, and Tom's too. They must beg the members of the IrishDirectory to avoid hasty decisions which afterwards they might repent.Terence should have been back ere this, no doubt; but when he didarrive he would show good reason for delay.'

  This discussion was carried on in whispers in the little drawing-roomthrough which a flirting couple strolled now and then on the way tothe buffet. Therefore Cassidy, who of late had begun to assume awhimsically patriarchal air in his communion with the delegates,because he was by a few years their senior, thought it prudent tostroll up and down the room now and again, lest haply his ubiquitousfriend Sirr should be lurking behind a shutter, or the lord chancellorhimself be squatting under a chair. The situation, to our modernminds, is well-nigh impossible to realise. Traitors wandering closeunder the viceregal nose, which they had arranged that very night totweak; traitors who were marked men, yet who were allowed to be atlarge; who made no pretence to loyalty, who openly admitted that theypanted to see the tricolour; that when this hour should come theirvengeance would be like a thunderbolt. Spies, too, in all directions,and families rent in twain by greed of gold, and rare examples ofhonesty. Brothers against brothers, fathers against sons, daughtersagainst mothers; yet all dancing and smirking together on the powdermagazine which might be fired at any moment.

  Cassidy deemed it prudent to keep watch and ward, to be sure that noeavesdroppers were listening to the squabbles of the delegates; and,in wheeling his big body round, caught sight of a new figure enteringthe ball-room.

  Could it be? Terence! returned from Cork, looking handsome and well inthe dress of the Lawyer's corps. The jealous giant ground his teeth ashe marked him pressing gently through the crowd to make his bow,smiling his bright smile to his numerous friends, then turning to theleft to where his relations sat. Doreen affected not to see him,Cassidy perceived with glee. She would not speak to him at all. Shewas busy arranging Sara's scarf about her neck. This was prime. Hemust see what happened next. Alas! the devil gets hold of the bestof us through jealousy! So, whispering, 'Whisht! boys--here'sTerence--returned!' he hurried to observe what was passing, pursuedshortly after by the others, who for a second had been transfixed bythe sudden appearance of the man about whose conduct they werequarrelling.

  'Hope you enjoyed yourself at Cork. The sea-breeze has done you good,'my lady was saying in frigid accents to her son; for she resented theunfailing good-humour of this boy who was always respectfully dutiful,as if he were not the seed of his mother's long remorse. It was thethought of him that had sent the crows to plough furrows on her face;that kept her awake sometimes all through the dreary night. If he hadonly reviled her, she would have preferred it to this studiedcourtesy. If he would only complain--but her conscience was leadingher astray. He knew nothing, except that she loved him not. Why shouldhe revile her? She had promised Lord Clare to caution him about hisconduct; therefore she asked him to sit beside her. But for once heappeared undutiful, for he hurriedly postponed the invitation.

  'I want to talk to you, Terence; sit by me,' she said.

  'Presently, mother,' he answered. 'I will come back by-and-by; thereis business that must be seen to.'

  Then turning his back on her, he looked towards Doreen. She was somuch occupied with that scarf of Sara's that it engrossed all herattention. She would not look up.

  'I have come back, Doreen,' he whispered. 'Have you nothing to askme?'

  She raised her brown eyes to his for a moment. 'Nothing!' she said,then resumed her occupation.

  Biting his lip he turned away, to be received in the exuberant embraceof his dear Cassidy, behind whom came trooping Tom Emmett and Robert;Russell, Bond, and others hanging back waveringly, as if not quitecertain how they should act. Was he not an aristocrat? Had not MissWolfe warned them? Was it not too likely that he should be playing adouble game? How difficult a task it was to separate friends fromfoes!

  Terence, despite his cousin's ill-humour, was in great spirits.Eagerly he conducted his friends into a remote boudoir. He was dyingto tell his news, and to hear theirs. So earnest was he, so strong aring of truth was in his voice, that the delegates could doubt nomore. Bond, Russell, gathered round as anxiously as the two Emmetts.Cassidy's broad visage was alight with grins. He slapped his thigh inhuge delight as Terence unfolded his budget. He had been treated withevery civility at Brest. Hoche, his fears removed, was taking up thematter with all his might; his rival, young Buonaparte, was getting ontoo well. Both these generals were straining every nerve to outstripeach other. The Irish envoy had seen Tone in his uniform as general debrigade. He was to sail in the expedition aboard the _Indomptable_.The force was of fifteen sail of the line, ten frigates, and seventransports. There was some diversity of opinion as to the plan to bepursued, for Admiral Gardner was cruising in the Channel with theEnglish fleet, and, crowded as the ships were with troops, it was wellto avoid a sea-fight if possible. The message to the Irish Directorywas that their allies might be expected at any moment--_where_, it wasimpossible to say--for much would depend on events, and it was takenfor granted that on the first signal the country would rise _enmasse_. Terence, indeed, was surprised that nothing had yet takenplace, for when he left Brest on the 10th all was ready, the menembarked--thirteen thousand strong--the etat-major prepared to follow.He, the envoy, had been compelled to travel through England, which haddelayed his coming; but he had ridden as fast as possible, lest allshould be over before he could arrive.

  'Started at last!' exclaimed Robert, full of glee.

  'Ready to start twenty days ago!' ejaculated Emmett, with a long face.'Please God no evil has befallen them.'

  The conspirators looked one at the other uneasily. What if thatEnglish fleet should have intercepted the convoy?

  'They've bin weather-bound,' Cassidy declared with confidence. 'Badnews flies quickly. If the English had done anything, we should havehad them crowing over us long since.'

  'There were fogs in the Channel, I remarked that,' assented Terence.'I went down into the great cabin of the _Indomptable_ on the eveningof the tenth, to wish the officers God-speed. It was an exhilaratingspectacle. The ceiling was a mass of firelocks; the candlesticks werebayonets, stuck in the table. A fine band was playing the"Marseillaise;" the officers, in full fig, were lounging about, someplaying cards, some singing to the time--all full of hope. As my boatrowed me away, the effect of the grand hymn on the water, diminishingas the black hull seemed flitting into haze, was delicious. It issurprising, though, that they delay so long.'

  The colloquy was interrupted by a general move to supper. It mightcreate suspicion if they were to stand too long aloof from thecompany.

  Arthur Wolfe plucked Curran by the sleeve, as he met him, inmid-stream, and whispered in his ear:

  'I saw you talking to Lord Clare. Ye've not been insulting him, Itrust? Take the advice of your friend. Do not make an enemy of him,for he'll have it all his own way by-and-by, depend on it.'

  Curran shrugged his shoulders with contempt.

  'Intelligence of some sort has arrived,' continued theattorney-general, gravely. 'Lord Camden was called away half an hourago, and sent presently for Clare, who was rubbing his hands andsmiling when the two came back again. I overheard him say, "With yourpermission, I'll ann
ounce it after supper. It will make a goodimpression."'

  'It's something cruel, then,' returned Curran, sadly. 'It's alwayssomething cruel when the chancellor looks pleased!'

  Supper was served in the picture-gallery which adjoins St. Patrick'shall, and it was a splendid _coup d'[oe]il_ that met your eye as youcrossed the threshold. Two long lines of snowy cloth, illuminated bymyriads of wax-lights in massive silver candelabra, vanished inperspective like the iridescent path cloven by a ship at night-time.Great piles of fruit and flowers gave relief to the scarlet and goldmasses of the uniforms, broken as they were, in regular sequence, bythe plumes and dresses of the ladies; whilst the general richness ofeffect was still further heightened by dark rows of feathery palms andlarge-leaved shrubs, which served as a sombre background.

  At the centre of the chief table, the Countess of Glandore occupiedthe place of honour beside the Viceroy, faced by Lord Clare, with LadyCamden on his right and Doreen on his left. On glancing down thetable, my lady perceived with rage that the chances of the rush hadplaced Sara upon one side of Terence, while--(was this accident, orfate?)--the other was occupied by Madam Gillin! The young man seemedhighly amused by his elderly companion, who--two monstrous ostrichfeathers nodding over her the while--was vowing by her soul and bodythat she couldn't touch another skelp of jelly--no, not the tiniestwee bit--unless somebody fed her with a spoon; which Terence, enteringinto the humour of the situation, proceeded immediately to do, amidthe laughter and applause of all his neighbours.

  The human animal being apt to run after bellwethers, it may be lookedupon as natural that this strange conduct of a respectable matron wasspeedily imitated by the girls. They vowed one and all, at this end ofthe table, with a unanimity which looked like an epidemic, that theymust be fed with spoons; and fed they were accordingly, by amoroussons of Mars, whose blood bubbled to their brains at close contactwith perfumed curls; whilst their cheeks glowed, fanned by fragrantbreath, and their eyes were dazzled by snowy busts thrown back, theirnerves thrilled by fairy little kicks from elfin feet and pinches frompink fingers, in the course of this bringing-up by hand of grown-upbantlings.

  Claret and champagne assisting, it must be admitted that at this endof the table the hilarity was more joyous than genteel. My lady lookedthitherward several times with frowns, for in her day men, when theyworshipped Bacchus, did so when the ladies had withdrawn. Then itmattered little what jests were bandied, what coarse freedom used. Butit shocked her that a sabbat such as this should take place in thepresence of his Majesty's representatives, of high-born dames anddowagers, of young girls who were presumably innocent, and that herown son should set it going.

  'That boy is a thorn in my side,' she reflected, with grim resentment.'He has never brought me anything but trouble from the moment of hisbirth till now. I promised to reason with him, and he has declinedeven to hear me speak. On his own shoulders then let the burthen ofthe future lie.'

  The Countess of Glandore, stung by the humiliation which her pride wasjust then suffering, irritated as it was by the canker which hadpoisoned the maternal milk in her breast so long, almost wished, in athrob of wickedness, that her second-born might entangle himselfirrevocably. Her evil monitor whispered that if he were to die ordisappear, the numbing dread which had sallowed her life would beburied in his grave. So are we impelled by little puffs of wind, whenwe have once started in the ice-sleigh down the slippery incline hewnout like a steel ribbon, our vision blinded by snow swirls and therapidity of transit, till with amaze we find ourselves at the bottomwith a jerk, not knowing what urged us on the road.

  When Madam Gillin had convinced her beau that she could take no morejelly without choking, he desisted from his well-meant efforts, andthe two began to converse on a pleasantly easy-going basis.

  'Indeed, ye're a strapping chap,' she declared, with a tap of her fanand a great laugh, 'although ye're a bad neighbour. I like your face,and I'm a quare body. Would ye make me a promise now, just to plase afanciful old woman? I wouldn't have an oath, there are too many,about, worse luck! Ye would? Promise me, then, on your honour, that ifever ye get into a scrape, in which I can be of service, ye'll come tothe Little House? Now didn't I say I was a quare woman, and you almosta stranger? You're a lad of your word, I know.' Then she added,exchanging her tone of banter for a serious whisper: 'Maybe I knowmore of ye than ye think, with the lock of hair cut away behind. Ye'vetaken up the cause. Bedad, I can't blame ye, though I'm sad for yoursake. Mum's the word. We're strangers till you need me. Hush! They arewatching us.'

  Terence had scarcely recovered his surprise at the eccentric conductof Madam Gillin, before there was a clattering of glasses and a hum,then a dead stillness of respect, for the Viceroy had risen on hislegs.

  He mumbled slavish platitudes anent the virtues of his graciousMajesty. No doubt everybody present was in the habit of reading the_Gazette_. Of course they were, for they loved their sovereign, andwere thankful for the privilege of watching, with respectful awe, hisdaily movements. He was at Weymouth, indulging in warm baths; so washer Majesty Queen Charlotte, and so likewise were their augustchildren the Princesses. For his part, he, the unworthy representativeof so perfect and enlightened and generally admirable a monarch, couldscarcely peruse without tears the simple bulletin of that household.'This morning the Princess Amelia walked, with her gouvernante, on thesands, to study the wonders of the shore. The Princesses Augusta andElizabeth rode for two hours, on their Shetland ponies, whilst theirMajesties were enjoying a bath!' Indeed it was a high privilege for anation to have daily before its eyes so pure and noble an example ofunsullied virtue, of innocent enjoyment and sterling worth. Withheartfelt thankfulness for the blessing bestowed by Providence, hewould propose the health of 'The King and Queen--God bless them!'upstanding, with all the honours.

  All this time claret and champagne had been freely going the rounds.The roses had deepened from pink to damask on the cheeks of the Dublinfair--the young officers of yeomanry and militia had reached the stageof aberration which follows thirst and precedes coma. Standing ontheir chairs the better to let loose their bursting loyalty, theydrank the health of their Majesties; whilst others--amongst whom someof our friends were--raised their glasses with a flourish, mutteringas they did so, 'Remember Orr!'

  Terence, with his arm round Sara, who shrank at the uproarious din,took her glass, and, pressing to his lips the place where hers hadtouched it, whispered in her ear--then in that of Madam Gillin: 'Tothe diffusion of Light--may it break upon us soon!'

  Then--silence being with difficulty restored--Lord Clare stood up tospeak.

  He surveyed the assemblage for a moment, casting his eagle eye on oneand then another as though to consider how best to touch thesympathies and flick the raws of so incongruous a gathering. Theattention of all was riveted on his smiling face, for a murmur hadflitted along the lines like a breeze over corn, which was an echo ofArthur Wolfe's surmise. There was something behind--some intelligenceof moment--the divulging of which the all-powerful lord chancellor hadexpressly reserved to himself.

  'It is nearly twelve o'clock,' he said at length, in the rasping voicewhich set so many people's teeth on edge. 'We have gone through a yearof trouble and anxiety, and are on the eve of a new one, which, Itrust, will prove vastly different from that which is now dying. Iwill venture to propose a toast to you--gentlemen and ladiesall--which may at first seem a riddle--but which you will, I know, alljoin with me in drinking, trusting to a satisfactory solution. I begyou to drink to the Wind.'

  The chancellor paused--one white hand upon his hip--to mark the effectof his exordium. Young' officers banged applause upon the table, notknowing why they did it, save that the leading spirit who guidedthem seemed to expect the silence to be broken. Arthur Wolfe madebread-pills with feverish absentness. Curran placed his hand behindhis ear, and leaned forward with impatient anxiety. Doreen sat, herhands folded in her lap, staring before her into space.

  'I give you the Wind,' the chancellor went on, with the clear
coldnessof a glacier rivulet 'because those who deplore the evil which hasgathered of late like a mist over our unhappy country, will have tothank the wind for driving it away, and leaving a clear atmosphere.Alas! I cannot say that the horizon is as yet quite clear--smallcloudlets float still upon the waters--but those heavy banks of rain,which we have all feared would drench us presently, are in mercy putto rout, and it is the wind that we have to thank for it. "The Frenchare on the sea, said the Shan van Vocht." So runs the ditty which wasin all careless mouths to-day. Well! I am authorised by hisexcellency's goodness to tell you that the French _are_ on thesea--but flying back to their native ports by this time in every phaseof discomfiture and distress.'

  A pause--while the doves shivered. Girls drew their feet into safetyunder chairs, and pushed away--shuddering--the importunate hands ofBritish aides-de-camp.

  'Some among you,' innocently insinuated the speaker, 'may possibly beaware that the French have been preparing for some time past to make adescent upon our coasts, and I tell you now (danger being over) thatsupposing they could have evaded the English fleet and landed inforce, much difficulty might have resulted. But thanks to the windwhich has blown persistently for days, although they did escape forawhile the vigilance of the English admiral, yet are they, by heaven'smercy, routed and put to flight, after beating about in the offing forwell-nigh a week.'

  Again the speaker paused to mark the success of his efforts. Curran,like Arthur, was rolling pills of bread upon the tablecloth; the youngladies, so demonstratively lively but a few moments before, wereglancing at each other with blanched lips. Mrs. Gillin was sittingbolt upright, her trembling fingers making sad havoc with her fan. Alow hum of dismay passed along the tables. The sound seemed to ticklemy Lord Clare's ear. He waited for a moment or so, and fixed his eyeupon Miss Wolfe as he took up the thread of his discourse.

  'Yes!' he said with exultation. 'The French fleet has come and gone!The menacing danger has faded harmlessly away. It started 15,000strong. Tempests arose, such as are always at the beck of Britain wheninvasion threatens her rights, which scattered the Gallic fleet.Hoche--who was to do such wonders--was aboard the admiral's ship;General Wolfe Tone (who by-the-bye will certainly, though he dubshimself general, bring himself to the gallows) was aboard another. Theflower of Republican valour was packed like herrings between decks.Where now are those gawdy cohorts? Making for Brest as fast as fearcan drive them. I pray that the King's admiral may intercept them intheir flight!'

  The chancellor's little oration came upon the party like athunderclap. There was no more flirting now, or dallying with taperwaists. Doreen, at mention of her hero, woke with a start fromreverie. Her lids quivered for a second, and shrank as though her eyeswere blinded by the lightning. She cast one wild glance of reproach ather cousin--then was herself again--a trifle paler maybe; butotherwise the staid, impassive maiden whose grave austerity so awedthe turbulent squireens. The Emmetts and their friends seemed stunned.Their hopes were blasted now, as it appeared, for ever. It would havebeen better not to have waited for tardy assistance so feeblyadministered. At times of deep anguish, thoughts whirl through thebrain in vivid flashes. Tom Emmett saw at once that the executive hadwon a double victory. The bugbear which had threatened them wasdissolved and gone. The members of the Irish Directory, who had beenfor acting at once, would turn now upon their comrades with aplausible appearance of justice, and revile them for having allowedprecious moments to slip by. The breach in the national bulwark, whichhad been showing in dangerous fissures, would be rent into chasmsnow--the edifice, which had taken such anxious pains to rear, wouldcrumble into dust. It was the oppressor's hour of triumph. Ireland'sfate was sealed. Such were the gloomy thoughts which crushed theleader of the patriots. With the majority of the party present itwas far otherwise. A mighty huzza shook the rafters--another andanother--like waves rolling in to shore. The officers of yeomanry andmilitia saw before them a bright perspective of lawlessness, whereinthe Helots would be handed over to their mercy--to smite, and revile,and torture, and kill--wherein their daughters would become alegitimate prey, their flocks and herds a booty, their household godsan appanage. Now was the time come when it behoved them to displaytheir zeal. So thought the squireens, so also thought the lords theirleaders, who hoped that they might earn extra pensions by acceptingthe bait that was held out. So the glittering assemblage rose with oneaccord--on the chairs--even on the tables, and the luckless professorsof a different creed were compelled to follow suit, as small stonesare dashed along at the mercy of the breakers. With shouts, withfrantic wavings of swords and handkerchiefs--supporting each other asthey swayed in their excitement---the lord-lieutenant's guests drankto the wind, and, at the same time, to the new year, which was thusheralded to the Irish capital in noise and drunken tumult.

  The chancellor had turned up a trump and played it skilfully. Withsmiles on their faces and despair in their hearts, the Dublin bellesreturned to the dancing-hall. But the innate ruffianism of theyeomanry officers had been let loose by wine and frenzy. The girlsfled to their brothers for protection--their excellencies retired totheir own apartments m a hurry. A youth with down upon his lip seizedthe green scarf of pretty Sara, and wrenched it from her neck with abrutal jest.

  'What do you hide?' he gibed. 'That lily bosom may not be hidden bythe rebel colour--off with it!'

  The youth sprawled prone at once, felled by a blow between the eyes.Sara shrieked, and clung to a protecting arm. It was Terence who hadknocked him down, and who was soon the centre of a _melee_. MadamGillin's feathers were seen tossing in the throng, while her voiceadded to the hubbub.

  'In the days of Brian Buroo,' she wailed, 'bejewelled leedies mightwalk alone from one end to t'other of Innisfail! Now, faith, we can'tbe safe even in Pat's hall!'

  My lady and Doreen made the best of their way to their coach. Thesoldiers stood in motionless rows upon the stairs, as though there wasno brawl above. Their captain had hurried to the chancellor to ask ifhe should clear the hall.

  'No!' was the laughing reply. 'Their blood is hot--a little phlebotomywon't hurt them. Let be! let be! It's not a good omen for the yearthough, that it should dawn in bloodshed!'

 

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