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

by Lewis Wingfield

  CHAPTER IX.

  PREPARATIONS FOR THE SACRIFICE.

  Madam Gillin called many times at Ely Place in her anxiety to astonishthe chancellor, but failed to find him--for the best of all reasons,that he was not there. Again and again she rapped with the big brassknocker--always to receive the same answer, 'His lordship is inEngland.' Time was moving on; reports arrived in succession that theworks at Fort George were progressing; that they were well-nighfinished; that they were complete. The unhappy exiles would be draftedoff directly, and Madam Gillin was determined to astonish Lord Clarebefore that moment came. What on earth could he be doing in England?He was an Irishman, if a bad one, and ought to stop at home. She wason the point of packing up a valise to pursue him across the Channel,when Jug brought the tidings that my Lord Clare's coach was on its wayto Kingstown, and that therefore its master must be expected back.

  The chancellor frowned ominously when he beheld his eccentricacquaintance ensconced in his favourite chair. The butler apologised.The lady would take no denial, he explained. She had nearly worn outthe knocker. He could not turn out one of the sex by neck andshoulders. Maybe it was really something of weight that made her sopersistent. But my Lord Clare was quite another man from when he wentto London, and was in no mood to brook liberties. He had seen Mr. Pittthere; had, much to the amusement of that gentleman, reviled my LordCornwallis, his policy, and his blunt manner; had explained away thefiasco at the first voting for union, and had been graciouslyreceived. Mr. Pitt had smiled on him while Mr. Fox sneered; had hintedthat if he and Lord Castlereagh did their work cleverly there would beno end to the honours which his Majesty would heap on them. They mustnot be discouraged, but slave away--hammer and tongs--till the objectwas achieved. After all, it was at this juncture merely a matter of alittle tact. As an earnest of future favour, my Lord Clare was createdBaron Fitzgibbon in the Peerage of England, and returned home an inchtaller and three times as overbearing as he had shown himself before.

  Once the union arranged, Lord Cornwallis would depart; Lord Clarewould resume his lofty position in Irish politics, and from his newplace in the English House of Lords would coerce British politicianson special subjects, as he had browbeaten a succession of Britishviceroys. But before this delicious dream could be realised there wasmuch to be done, which required careful manipulation. Lord Castlereaghhad kept him _au courant_ during his absence of what passed in Dublin.He was aware that, fired by indignation at the breaking of the compactand the condemnation of his brother, untried, to penal servitude,young Robert had left London abruptly and gone home. The youngcockatrice, as he elected to call him, meant mischief--wouldcertainly give trouble--and at an inconvenient moment. He must bewatched--bagged--gagged--swept away like a tiresome fly. It wouldnot do to have insurrections now. He was aware that the Irishparliament--servile hitherto--was playing pranks and kicking up itsheels, raising the price of its suicide, to the annoyance of LordCastlereagh and the rage of Lord Cornwallis. He had seen a letter fromthe Viceroy to the Duke of Portland, wherein the former pleaded oncemore for the emancipation of the Catholics, declaring that if theywere kept out in the cold, the important measure which was to be a newbulwark to England would have a foundation of sand; vowing that he wassick of dirty water; that if there was no prospect of getting out ofthe country he would offer earnest prayers to Heaven for immediatedeath. Mr. Pitt, when he showed this letter to Lord Clare, spokeopenly without mincing matters. The King was obdurate about theCatholics. Lord Clare knew that. They must be cajoled, however; led onby specious promises and then betrayed; treated in fact after theingenious fashion in which Lord Clare had shown himself so consummatea master in the matter of the compact with the state prisoners. TheIrish Chancellor, primed by Lord Castlereagh, explained thedifficulties of the situation with crystal clearness to Mr. Pitt. Itwas now merely a matter of L s. d. How much or how little didn'tsignify, since the blood-money was to be supplied by the victimherself. The Lords and Commons having made the plunge, weretotally divested of all shame. They made use of a small party ofanti-unionists as a lever to dig out more gold; swearing that theywould all go over to that party unless their demands were compliedwith in all their greed. Thus was it with the upper class. The lowerclass was apathetic and hopeless--all except a few United Irishmen,who were making a new attempt to attain their ends by stirring updiscord and division. The anti-unionists were leaving no stoneunturned to inflame the spirit of the people. But the spirit was goneout of them. There would be a tussle for it, no doubt. It would bewell for decorum's sake to postpone the conclusion of the business fora few months, for it would look bad for the senators who were to befreshly bought to seem to change their opinions too suddenly. Europewould laugh if men who declared in April that union meant destructionwere in May to turn round and vote in favour of it. Finally Mr. Pittsent his tool home again, bidding him be discreet and diligent, andlaughed in his sleeve so soon as his back was turned.

  Lord Clare was puffed out with self-importance when he strutted intohis house and found Madam Gillin ensconced there as though she wereits mistress. Taking no heed of his frowns, she wagged her featherswith satisfaction, and straightway unfolded her budget. He was as muchastonished as she could possibly desire. Shane then was illegitimate,and Terence the true Lord Glandore! This was the clue to much whichhad seemed inexplicable in my lady. Poor old friend! how she must havesuffered--and she innocent, except in aiding and abetting her husbandwhen it was too late to do anything else. It was evident that, born ofthe same parents, it was a cruel law which would treat one brother(and the elder one too) as a pariah for lack of a few sentences dronedthrough the nose. It was natural that a mother should feel thisstrongly, and in a wrong-headed feminine way make difficulties greaterin her efforts to gloze them over. But the old lord was right when hespoke the warning. His sons were only boys; they might have steppedinto their legal places then without much harm resulting. But nowafter the long lapse of years, the situation wore another aspect.Shane had grown to manhood--to the prime of life--under the impressionthat he was true master of wealth and broad acres. His life had takenits permanent shape. It would be a smashing blow to him were hisbrother to come forward and claim his own. The position of Terence toowas a singularly unhappy one. He had been bitterly wronged. Of thatthere could be no doubt, and his mother must have walked on red-hotploughshares when she beheld him going straight to ruin. If he hadbeen acknowledged as 'my lord' he would have done, of course, as themajority of lords did--would never have thought of joining the popularparty, would not now be preparing to leave his country--abrokenhearted exile. For even the most virtuous in the Upper Housewere content at this juncture to remain neutral. Poor, poor oldfriend! What anguish must have been hers when she contemplated allthis, as she must have done daily, without having strength to say thewords she should have said! Actually she had been doomed to watch herown son drifting into the dark waters, and with her own hands to cutthe rope which might have saved him. No wonder if her hair waswhite--her face of ashen pallor. No wonder if she was haunted by aghost who never left her side. Mrs. Gillin's story actually took awaythe breath of the chancellor as his mind wandered through the fieldsof the past, putting this and that together, fitting pieces of apuzzle into their places which hitherto had defied his skill.

  In the first place he was moved with pity for the Countess ofGlandore. Sure, her sufferings--dragged out and intensified instead ofbeing healed by Time--would have turned long ago a less steady brainthan hers. Poor lady! at this very moment her trials were at theiracme. The son who had been so much wronged was about to depart on hissad journey. Would she have the courage to let him go without speakingthe truth? And if she spoke the truth, what line would he take? It wasa pity he had not been hanged in the ordinary course of events. Hewould then have gone to his grave in ignorance of the wrong done tohim. The knot would have been severed. For, failing Terence, the titlewould be extinct; and, bastard or not, my lady's conscience would havebeen at rest with
regard to Shane's inheriting. As he turned over thetangled mass he could not decide for which of the three he ought to bemost sorry. Their cruel case touched the good portion of his heart--inwhich there was room for compassion for these three persons, whom hehad known intimately for years; two of whom had grown up before hiseyes. Shane's case was a most dreadful one. But not more cruel thanTerence's. All things considered, it would be best that Terence shouldnever learn the truth, or Shane either. Things had gone so far thatnothing but evil could come of their positions being reversed.

  This was the verdict of the chancellor, and a worldly-wise one too.For he knew not that my lady's overburthened soul had already vomitedforth the truth; that she had confessed to Shane, now, several weeksago. This was his verdict, and Mrs. Gillin was reluctantly compelledto admit that he was right. But he, on the other hand, fully agreedwith her that something must be done forthwith for Terence. TheViceroy must be spoken to, the King even must be interviewed--a pardongained for the doomed exile without telling him the cause of it. Bybeing deprived of a fortune which was legally his, he had beenfearfully wronged. For the sake of others it would be well that heshould never know how much. All things considered, his was a case forclemency. His Majesty, who was jealous of the ermine, and loved not tosee it dragged through the mud, would appreciate at once thepeculiarities with which the case was invested. But to hoodwinksuspicion he must be advised to avoid too abrupt a pardon, such asshould set the tongues of busybodies clacking. Terence must in acareless way be left behind when the vessel sailed, which was nowlying ready in the Liffey. He must be made to promise to conspire nomore, and then be given to understand quietly that his misdeeds wouldbe graciously forgotten.

  Gillin went away content, and with a light heart. She had fulfilledher promise of protecting the son of her old lover. Shane, it wasdecided, was still to be Lord Glandore. Norah's mamma might now, withan easy conscience, set about the clinching of that match which sheconsidered would be beneficial to her child. My lady's reluctantconsent could be wrung from her by fear of her secret becoming known.She might even be told in plain words that her own evil imaginationhad conjured up baseless phantoms--that Norah was born two monthsbefore her mother made the acquaintance of the late lord, and that shehad been brought up a Protestant by his desire simply for the sake ofevading certain clauses in the Penal Code, which might jeopardise hislegacy to a Catholic.

  Madam Gillin had seen through my lady's terrors upon this point allalong, and had played on them to revenge herself for the sternchatelaine's contemptuous airs. For the same cause she had firstimagined a match between the two young people, which their owninclinations seemed inclined to ratify. It would be rare sport tobring the haughty woman to the dust, and compel her to accept Norah asa daughter! It would be, too, a spectacle of ineffable delight to seeNorah make her appearance at a drawing-room by the _entree_ by virtueof her rank as countess! The fascinating idea took possession of theworthy woman; yet shrank she not from that to which she consideredherself bound by oath. She would have kicked over with her own fatfoot, if need were, the palace she had built, and have thought no moreof Norah as mistress of Strogue Abbey and the possible intimate friendof a lady-lieutenant; but she was none the less charmed to find thatduty and delight were not incompatible, that Lord Clare was decided inhis opinion that Shane must still wear the coronet.

  Lord Clare considered and reconsidered the strange embroglio whilstrefreshing his inner man with chicken-pasty for a long business talkwith Castlereagh. There were several reasons why Shane must not beousted now. What with pugnacious waifs and strays from the brokenranks of the United Irishmen; what with the honesty of a small band ofsenators, and the rapacity of the remainder, there would be a verypretty fight ere this union could be jotted down in history. To makesuccess certain consummate tact would be required, as well as a fullpurse. Every vote would be of enormous worth; Castlereagh in hislatest bulletin had computed the votes of ordinary M.P.'s at L5000 ahead. The title of Glandore carried with it parliamentary pressureof many kinds; direct or indirect influence over constituencies, aswell as weight in the Upper House. If all this influence weretransferred from Shane to Terence, it would be used on the wrong side.He would certainly join Lords Downshire and Powerscourt and othertroublesome persons, who dared to flout the King; would sneer atEnglish marquisates and be faithful to the errors which beset anheir-presumptive. It behoved the chancellor to be cunning on this ason other points. There was no telling what might happen next, in sosingularly involved a complication as this of the Glandore family. Twopoints only were quite apparent. Terence, the real earl, must not gointo captivity. Shane, the sham earl, must be retained in hisposition, at least until he had borne his share in securing thesuccess of the Great Measure.

  When Castlereagh arrived presently at Ely Place, he disturbed hiscolleague's complacency by hints of difficulty independent of money orof votes. Not only was the scatter-brained school-lad Robert Emmettback in Ireland (this was no news); but he was showing that he was acockatrice indeed. All his acts were watched, his intentions known;but he was doing considerable damage already to the cause ofGovernment, and bade fair to make himself still more objectionable. Hewas actually starting the foolish old plots again which had only beenallowed to run their course at all for state reasons, and which werenow altogether preposterous and out of date. He prated of tyingtogether the ravelled strands of the confederacy. Major Sirr hadintelligence of midnight meetings of the good old kind, with passwordswhich everybody knew. Had even seen a wonderful green uniform, with acocked hat like a merry-andrew's at a fair, which was beingmanufactured for the younger Emmett.

  'The boy is an honest boy,' Lord Castlereagh averred. 'He is simplyrunning his head against a wall. It would be well to save him from theeffects of his own lunacy, if possible; a strait waistcoat would fithim better than his fancy dress.'

  This was annoying news, but it was not all. The state of the countrywas unsafe, and Lord Cornwallis was of opinion that, unless themeasure could speedily be finished off, difficulties might arise whichit was the interest of all parties to avoid. Time was when the lashand halter were salutary instruments; but now it was essential thatthey should be used no more. Agrarian outrages were becoming ominouslyfrequent. Not only property was in danger, but life too. Not merelythe life of the low scum, which of course didn't matter, but theprecious lives of lords and ladies. Some lords, indeed, theremembrance of whose performances on the triangle made them speciallyunpopular, had been obliged to surround their mansions with foreigntroops, and were delighted to escape from the homes of theirforefathers to the safer atmosphere of Dame Street and the Castle. Wasnot that awkward? Even that was not all! Here was something worse. Atthe time when the English militia regiments were drafted into Irelandfor the protection of the proprietors, it was agreed that theirenforced stay should not exceed a certain period, with option ofeventually returning home or lingering on as might be deemedconvenient. The specified time was up now. In a wild chorus--as eageras the Viceroy's private solo--they all declared that they would notremain on Irish soil a moment longer than they could help. Even thestrong influence of Lord Cornwallis, who kept his solo for his privatebedchamber when his nightcap was on, could only obtain a month ortwo's delay. Things were shaky. Another Hurry might be brought aboutunless those in office were careful and it would be monstrousinconvenient if such a contingency were to take place.

  This, according to Lord Castlereagh's account, was in the future. Letus look at the present, which was sad enough.

  The melancholy convoy started for Fort George. Women, children, andstrong men crowded to the quay, and wept as the martyrs were wafted totheir prison. Young Robert Emmett was seen to wave his hand from awindow towards Tom, who stood at the ship's bows to take his last lookat Erin. So soon as the vessel was out of sight, the young man kneeleddown by the open casement with both arms aloft, and swore an oaththere to repel the Sassenagh yet, or perish in the attempt. Many ofthose who were wearily plodding homeward recognised his figure and hisa
ction, and, kneeling too, registered their vows in concert. All thefirst leaders of the United Irishmen who were not dead were on boardthat transport; and Robert, left alone, set to work with a will (asCastlereagh graphically put it) to batter his head against a wall. Heengaged mysterious premises, decayed warehouses in back slums, fromout of which came by-and-by the hum of many voices, the clang of manyanvils. The Battalion of Testimony peeped through the keyholes, andwere mightily amused. This infantile echo of the preparations of '96and '97 was diverting--a right jovial jest--a jolly jape! They relatedto Major Sirr and his crony, Cassidy, all they had seen and heard, andthose worthies roared too, till tears of exhausted merriment ran downtheir cheeks.

  The young enthusiast's guileless arrangements for driving theEnglishry into the sea were ridiculous, no doubt. He kept the detailsof them to himself, never telling those who loved him of them. As theywere not in the habit of looking through keyholes, they knew not thathe was working in earnest; that he had determined in his own mind,should the union pass, to make the first shaking out of the unitedflag upon the Castle his signal for attack; when a handful ofscatter-brains, as unpractical as himself, should storm the Castle,kill the Viceroy, proclaim Ireland free, and the Act of Union avalueless piece of dirty parchment. Jack Cade's rabblement was no whitmore laughable an assemblage than the army which Robert proposed tolead to victory. The authorities consulted as to what should be donewith him, and decided that it would be safer to allow him to stir up alittle dust in the metropolis than to drive him into the provinces,where he really might give serious trouble. It would be better to letthe affair come to a head at once, while the English militia and myLord Cornwallis were still at hand. It was fortunate for Governmentthat Robert kept his secret so well; for if his friends had been awareof his guileless plots, they would have applied at once to theViceroy, who would have had no alternative but to lock up thefirebrand and allow the coals to smoulder. Not even to Sara did hespeak openly; though he certainly did let out vague hints whichfrightened the damsel not a little; not even to Terence did he speakat all--to Terence, who remained quietly in seclusion at the Abbey formonths after the vessel sailed, wondering if he was forgotten, orwhether he was set apart to head a second convoy.

  As for Doreen, so soon as her amazement had abated (which resultedfrom the eavesdropping), it gave place to a feeling of uneasiness. Heraunt had spoken of the disposal of her hand as a matter ofconvenience, for the benefit of Shane; and she now deciphered all theriddle which had seemed so crabbed and contradictory. Withapprehension she awaited a change in the young lord's demeanour,expected him to play the lover, and be miserable, as orthodox suitorsare. He was undoubtedly most miserable, but he made no attempt to playthe lover. Although she knew it not, her own manner was the maiden'ssafeguard. Cousin Shane, who had always been repelled by her coldways, felt that he might as well try to make love to a dead body as tothis full-blooded girl, who, like Terence, announced that her life wasdone. Have we not read somewhere of a certain prince who espoused anice-maiden for the sake of her dowry? She clasped him in her arms, andfroze him slowly. Just such a bride would Miss Wolfe be to Shane. Andyet he saw that his mother was right. If Terence were somehow to learnthe secret, and to claim his own, what would become of hisillegitimate brother? His mother was right, as she always was. LordKilwarden's nest-egg would keep the wolf from the door. What a pity itcould not be his without the burthen of the accompanying ice-maiden!As he looked round he decided reluctantly that there was no other rockto make for; that he must force his inclinations, give up Norah,possess himself of Doreen; but the sight of her dreary face andlistless demeanour was always enough to put to rout his most firmresolve--the while he cursed himself for his repulsion. My lady'sghost was his companion now as well as hers. It communed with him inthe night; it whispered to him by day. The countess perceived theleaven of fear working within him, and her burthen became, ifpossible, more heavy on her back. Irresistible impulse had impelledher to confess. An indistinct dread of open rupture between thebrothers had forced her to give Shane a reason for more consideratebehaviour towards Terence. But the shot, she found, had entirelymissed its mark. Shane was not a good man; he was gross, brutal, andendowed with none of the attributes of the serpent. He was not likeCassidy, for instance. If he hated a person, all the world might knowit. By virtue of his bringing-up as Chief of Blasters and King ofCherokees, he was terribly handy with rapier and pistol; could sendhis closest friend to Hades without compunction; but then it must bedone according to the rules set down by the Knights of Tara, and inopen battle, with paces marked out and seconds looking on. Like manyselfish men, he could be good-natured so long as affability was cheap.But how grievously had my lady been mistaken in supposing that fearwould induce civility to Terence, in proportion to the wrong that hewas doing him. On the contrary, by the light of my lady's confession,he saw Terence from such an aspect, that his hitherto colourlessdislike was turned, at once to fiercest hate. Terence was hisjunior--one, too, who had brought himself, by his own acts, toshipwreck, and had done much besides to spoil his elder's prospects.And this fellow--six years younger than himself--was to take the breadout of his mouth, because, forsooth, their father and mother hadpostponed the mouthing of a few words!

  From Shane's point of view it was monstrously unjust. By right offather and of mother he was Lord Glandore. He could not--wouldnot--be commonly civil to this fellow, who might, some of these days,eject him from all that made life pleasant. Vainly his unhappy motherargued. The case, he persisted, stood thus, and no otherwise. Shecould not alter what was done, if she talked till Doomsday. Vainly shevowed that the secret lay between him and her and Mrs. Gillin. He mustnot be rude to Mrs. Gillin, or jilt her daughter, all at once. Thatamourette must be allowed to dwindle by slow degrees, till it shouldfade out from sheer lack of sustenance. Meanwhile he must make up toDoreen and be civil to Terence, trusting that events would shapethemselves rightly after all. If the worst came to the worst, hismother would speak solemnly to Terence, reminding him of the oath hemade by his father's death-bed that he would be loyal to theelder-born, and adjure him not to stain his soul by perjury. Atmention of that circumstance Shane pished and pshawed, for at best itwas an oath wrung wrongfully from a little lad; and he felt withdismay that if she was inclined to cling to such broken reeds as that,her hopes could not be so rosy as she pretended. Sometimes, indespair, he determined to throw up the game; to seek better fortune insome foreign service; to offer his sword and courage to Austria orPrussia; then, in reckless mood, he would veer round, swearing that hewould hold by his coronet till it was torn out of his grasp; that thegrave would be preferable to disgrace and beggary. This mood assumedafter a while the upper hand; and under its influence he did thingswhich capped his earlier fame as King of Cherokees, and bade fair toland him in a madhouse.

  He gave way more and more to drink. His conduct became daily lesstrammelled by accepted rules. He took up a passion for hunting in thenight. To his dogs, who followed their noses, it was all one whetherthey tracked their prey by rays of sun or moon. To carry out my LordGlandore's conceit, however, it was necessary to provide flambeaux. Anumber of servants, well mounted, led the way with torches over drainand wall, and the shuddering cottiers, startled from sleep by anocturnal 'Tallyho!' turned round again to resume their broken rest,muttering that it was not hell let loose, only mad Glandore.

  Perhaps his uncertain future urged him to break his neck like agentleman; perhaps he only sought in oddity a refuge from his muddledthoughts. At any rate, he soon became the talk of Dublin, and hismother grew daily more haggard and more wan.

  Among the men whom Shane met every day in the capital was Mr. Cassidy,who, by dint of haymaking during the brief time when the sun shone,had materially improved his position in life. Hand and glove withMajor Sirr, who watched young Robert like a lynx, and whose privateduties on behalf of union were no less important than they had been inpreceding years, he managed to stuff his nest with comfortablewadding, manufactured chiefly from bank-notes.
He took care thatGovernment should know that but for him Tone would have escaped, andTerence possibly, and many others. He cultivated the powerful, bulliedthe timid, flattered the vain, duped the credulous, amused theconvivial. He received a handsome pension (as depository of awkwardsecrets), which raised him for ever above the rank of a half-mountedto that of a gentleman to the backbone; received splendid presentsfrom suspected persons who quaked before a vision of Fort George; laidmoney by; was altogether a prosperous individual, with a band of spiesunder his own orders--the flower and pride of the Staghouse garden.And prosperity sat well upon his jolly features. Impunity gave him_aplomb_. His clothes were handsome, his entertainments festive. Hecould sing a song or crack a bottle against any man alive. He was notpuffed up by success. It was but natural that he should be elected byacclamation a Cherokee; a Blaster; that he should be welcomed amongthe set of drunken, swearing, fighting daredevils by Shane, theirleader, who had always been his patron. The influence of so merry ablade was sure to become great amongst the rackety M.P.'s, who wouldshortly be called upon to vote. Promises of great things to come werefreely made by the chancellor and his colleague Castlereagh, if thosewho inclined to backsliding were well kept to the sticking-point.

  Now a very brilliant idea burst at the right moment from the brain ofMr. Cassidy--an idea which showed that he understood the foibles ofhis countrymen, and well knew how best to play on them. WatchfulEurope decided some time before that the Irish senate was hopelesslydisgraced, and branded its members with a verdict of moral cowardice.They could not with truth deny the soft impeachment, yet theyattempted to justify themselves by showing that physically at leastthey were no cowards. Shane was but one example out of many. 'FightingFitzgerald' was even more wild than he. The palm of perfectCherokeeism was awarded to Lord Glandore in some measure fromconsideration of his rank. The Lords and Commons made up for the moralcowardice, of which they were notoriously guilty, by an extra amountof blustering and ruffling. They were aristocratic bravoes. Theirhands were always on their swords. What better opportunity for alittle 'play' than diversity of political opinion? Mr. Cassidy(newly elected to Daly's, hard by the senate-house) proposedthat covers should be laid there every day, at Government expense,for--say--thirty or forty guests at least, who could thus be countedupon, on an emergency, to swell the ranks of the Government party ineither House; and who, inflamed with wine and enthusiasm, would bedelighted to shoot down, or spit, on shortest notice, any unwiseperson who should disagree from the opinions of their amphitryon.This project was thought ingenious, and was acted on. The feastswere known as 'pistol-dinners,' and took place--either at Daly'sor in a committee-room adjoining, until their _raison d'etre_ hadceased--under the superintendence of Mr. Cassidy, who, wise enough toassume for a purpose a lower seat, placed this or that lord _enevidence_, as circumstances seemed to dictate. It was only naturalthat he should push forward as much as possible his patron, LordGlandore; and the latter, as he grew more reckless and moreclaret-stained, came to glory in the unenviable privilege, and to puttrust in the cheery friend who once was proud to be his slave.

  He told him his passing woes, asked his advice, and sometimes took it.If you are sorely troubled, and in your anxiety to conceal that youare losing your nerve, force yourself on to preposterous deeds ofprowess, there is much comfort to be obtained from the sympatheticring of a jolly voice, the warm clasp of a shoulder-of-mutton hand.Cassidy, too, was so open and so innocent--so easily seen through.Lord Glandore felt a sort of disdain for him, dubbing him, withpatrician condescension, a big grown-up baby, and so forth--evenwhilst he clutched for support the giant's burly arm. And Cassidy wasno whit offended, laughing more loudly than ever as his patron's jestswaxed broader--till the windows shook again, and the sound-wavescarried a shimmer of his braying from Daly's to the House of Peers.

  Sometimes Lord Clare deigned to encourage his satellites by appearingin person, during an interval of debate, at a pistol-dinner, whilstLord Castlereagh was entertaining on a grand scale at home. Then weretoasts drunk with three times three--Government toasts, to which thechancellor responded in a voice broken by emotion, with a lowly visageand hand pressed on heart; toasts which were borne on the air out ofopen windows to the ears of passers-by, who, scowling, hurried away.Then, fired by his hints, the pot-valiant heroes would rush forth andrun a-muck--a right jovial way of finishing an evening from the pointof view of a Cherokee; and the chancellor, protesting that the boysreally were too lively and amusing, would return to the House alone bythe private covered way.

  One evening, when appearing amongst them to announce that the crisiswas close at hand, he professed to be mightily alarmed by theproceedings of the opposition party. These were in the habit ofmeeting at my Lord Charlemont's, and on this occasion, he said withsorrow, they had dared to insult the King, in the person of hisministers, by burning himself and Lord Castlereagh in effigy in themiddle of Stephen's Green. The chancellor said that it was most unkindand inconsiderate. Yet with Christian meekness he implored thefaithful servants of his Majesty to take no notice of the outrage. Theresult was as he intended. With a wild war-whoop the lords and M.P.'srose up from dinner, dragging the tablecloth with them in their zeal,and rushed off to Stephen's Green to fight it out. The anti-unionistswere speedily put to flight, for they were few. By this means, andsuch tricks as this, did the crafty minister strive to browbeat thetimid, many of whom, unassailable from any other point, were to becoerced into submission by the bullet-test.

  Two only of the diners remained behind--both of whom were usually inthe very van--Lord Glandore and Cassidy. The former was much out ofsorts. The latter, certain that there was something on his mind, layin wait to discover what it could be. He was very fond of penetratingother people's mysteries, was Mr. Cassidy--for it is astonishing howan ingenious mind can turn them to its own advantage--and Mr. Cassidywas always on the prowl to pick up stray wadding for his nest. Hetherefore, with a look of concern, sat down beside my lord, whose facelay on his arms upon the table, and rallied him about his evidentdepression.

  'Come, come!' he cried, with a pat of his great hand. 'Sure yourlordship's head was not well seasoned in its youth. What ails ye? Theclaret's good enough.'

  'I wish I could be drowned in it!' Shane muttered with despondency;'and then there'd be an end. There was a Duke of Clarence killed thatway, you know--lucky fellow!'

  'Is it kilt? 'Deed and your lordship won't come to so mean a death,I'll warrant; though ye're mighty careless of your life--more than I'dbe if all you have was mine.'

  Shane started up with a fierce glare. Everybody's chance arrows seemedwinged to stick into his flanks. But he saw nothing in the giant'sflat, round visage but an engaging air of humour and unguardedopenness. What a good-natured face! Shane, weaker than his mother,yearned for sympathy and consolation; the secret she had carried solong with heroic fortitude ate into his softer fibre, and devouredhim. He was at his small wits' end to know how to act. Cassidy's warmheart and kindly friendship might perchance suggest something. Out ofthe mouths of babes and sucklings wisdom has come ere now. Acting onthe impulse, Shane, with maudlin tears, swore his dear friend tosolemn secrecy, and amidst a coruscation of cries and curses, blurtedout the story which we wot of.

  'What a cruel, cruel world it was!' he wailed, 'and what a bitter fatewas his! He would certainly come to be a beggar--would be thrown outupon the world an outcast, he, who was not fitted to battle withit--for my lady was very queer in her ways, would be certain to tellTerence some day, just as she had told him. Why had she ever told him?wicked and unnatural mother to cause him such harrowing grief! Why wasnot Terence hanged? Why didn't they send him to Fort George? Oncetaken out of sight, the chances of my lady's blabbing would belessened.'

  Cassidy sat listening to his rambling lamentations, with hischina-blue eyes staring vacantly; then hummed to himself the words ofthe old song while his nimble brain was working:

  'A jackdaw noble, glittering in the plumes Of the old race, whose hon
ours he assumes!'

  'My lady--my lady! It's always your mother ye're bothering about,'he said presently. 'Sure, your lordship's not tied to my lady'sapron-string!'

  But Shane's babble, once set going, was not to be stemmed by pertness.He proceeded to unfold all her suggestions, mingled with his owndoubts and hopes and fears; and as he talked on, new ideas sprang intoshape, which hitherto had lain indistinct and dormant. He told ofDoreen and her fortune, and how he would like to marry her if he couldget rid of her directly afterwards--of how fortunate it was that hehad sold his parliamentary interest so well--of how Terence hadrebuked him on that subject, and what a crackbrained lunatic hewas--girt round with old-fashioned prejudice--beset with starchedquirks and rubbish.

  Cassidy's eyes twinkled, for he detected a glittering piece of waddingwhich would suit his nest right well--a precious piece of wadding madeof revenge and self-interest interwoven--a rare piece of wadding whichshould be his if craft could win it.

  'Would Miss Wolfe have your lordship?' he said carelessly; 'sure, it'smany a colleen that'd jump at your refined appearance, let alone yourwealth. But she----' the sentence remained unfinished, out of respect.He would not make disagreeable remarks to his patron for anythingwhatever. He therefore whistled in a deprecating and provoking manner,while the latter echoed pettishly:

  'But she--what?'

  'Maybe I'd best not tell ye! Well--if ye will have it--she--I fearshe's sweet upon another gintleman--that's bad?'

  Shane was fairly startled. It had never struck him that she could havealready given herself away--to whom? As her form began to appearshadowy, he, with the usual inconsistency of man, began to hankerwildly after the ice-maiden--not for herself of course, but for themoney-box.

  'It's not possible!' he cried.

  ''Deed 'tis!' returned the other, with compassion. 'She's deep in lovewith Councillor Crosbie. I've known it this long while.'

  Shane ground his teeth and sprang upon his feet. This last blow wastoo much. What! this interloper was going to rob him of his birthrightand his name, and, not content with that, was also going to take theprecious ice-maiden, whose paltry little stockingful would at leastkeep hunger from the pauper's door. In an access of rage Shane paradedup and down the club-room like a tiger. Inflamed by his own criticalcondition he lashed himself into savage unreasoning passion, andCassidy whistled softly before the fire, with his big legs stretchedout and his fists deep in his pockets, until the young man should haveattained the requisite degree of heat. Then, when he judged thepatient's temper to be sufficiently exasperated, he passed his armthrough his, and in a low coaxing voice poured poison in his ear whilethe two walked. Sure, his lordship must take the bull by the horns andact promptly, unless he was satisfied to sit with hands before him andlose all. He must take measures to prevent Master Terence from seeingany more of his mother or of Miss Doreen until something could bedefinitely settled.

  Shane half understood, and his blood tingled.

  How did his lordship's father espouse her ladyship? Was it not afterthe then prevailing fashion of high-spirited Irish gentlemen? Did henot carry her off before all competitors, as many another noble memberof the Abduction Club had carried away his bride? True, the AbductionClub had ceased to exist five and twenty years ago; but in the presentunsettled condition of the country, there was no reason why a leafshould not be taken from its book. Lord Kilwarden would hush thematter up, which would merely be a little scandal, strictly limitedwithin the family circle. Miss Doreen would be Madam Shane: good luckto the winsome colleen! Her money would be his--so would be theforty-five thousand pounds for which he had sold his vote. Come whatmight, then, there would be no need to talk of drowning himself inclaret--of being thrust forth a beggar in the world.

  Shane listened and brightened up. The abduction idea was good, andjumped with his Irish romance. He would marry the ice-maiden withouthaving to woo her--a proceeding that he knew he could not accomplish.But how about Terence? He would interfere--knight of the ruefulcountenance though he professed to be. My lady too--what shouldprevent her from speaking before these arrangements could be carriedout? The ruinous words were on the tip of her tongue. Terence was atStrogue, and bound to remain there. He could not leave the groundswithout breaking his parole.

  Cassidy was delivered of a real inspiration; and nothing could beeasier than to carry it out. Did not the chancellor say only an hourago that the tussle was close at hand--that the Great Measure was tobe again brought forward without delay? Well then. Master Terence mustdisappear. Nonsense! No _sbirri_ in long cloaks as in an opera. MajorSirr and faithful Cassidy could manage that. He could be locked up byan error of orders just for a little. Was he not a state-prisoner onparole? and was not the younger Emmett--foolish young scapegrace, whothought he concealed his identity under the name of Hewitt--busilypreparing to dash his head against a wall? What easier than to suggestthat Councillor Crosbie--already so gravely compromised--had brokenhis parole and gone off to join the baby-conspirators? The Battalionwould come up by dozens to swear it. They would minutely describewhere and how--the other side of the country--they had captured him asecond time; would claim rewards for doing so. Afterwards he should beforthcoming without a hair of his head being injured--his affectionatebrother need not fear for his life. Apologies would be made if needwere (for Government seemed determined to treat him very leniently),and all would be right as a trivet. Whether any one would speak or no,so that later on he might assume his title, was an afterconsideration. By the time he was released, Lord Glandore would havevoted; Doreen would be Madam Shane; Lord Kilwarden would have blessedhis children. The matter would be settled--Shane would be safelyprovided for. If the rumour of the councillor's escape and thebreaking of his parole were deftly managed, his own friends would bedisgusted; his mother, even, would see that confession would not helpmatters; Government would wash its hands of so determined a Croppy,when, the measure carried, his influence would be null and void. Itwould be very much more likely than not that those who could speakwould irrevocably decide--after the escapade which they would fatheron him--that the secret must be kept for ever.

  Shane was amazed and delighted. The babe and suckling had spokenwisdom indeed--admirable! Verily the best plans are the most simpleones, and nothing could be simpler than this. It was not possible morecleverly to meet every difficulty, to countercheck every contingency,than by this subtle scheme. He promised himself in the future to makeTerence a splendid allowance as a salve to his own conscience--so soonas he held his portion of the blood-money, and Doreen's stocking andhis marquisate, and a certainty that nobody would blab. So easily arewe inclined to believe what suits us that his bugbear vanished intothe air. Terence would never know. The crisis past, the prospectivemarquis would score a point before the world by laying claim to hisbrother's liberty, feigning to demand it for state services, insteadof promotion in the peerage. Of course everybody would applaud sogracious, so affectionate an act. He would receive both favours. Theclouds which threatened to smother him were melting unaccountablybefore a magic wand. How strange that the man who had power to work sopotent a spell should be stupid blundering Cassidy!

  He clasped the giant warmly by the paw, vowing eternal gratitude if hewould see to this at once. Would he also consider as to what favourthe prospective Marquis of Glandore should ask the Government for hisdear friend--his excellent friend--his saviour?

  Cassidy laughed with a great guffaw, which was not all innocence, atthe change which his suggestions had worked. It was just possible thatthings would not turn out quite as the future marquis saw them. In acase of abduction there may be a rescue. The rescuer may carry off theprize. What if Doreen, instead of becoming by main force Madam Shane,were to return to the world as Madam Cassidy? The giant had an eye tothat stocking, not for his patron but himself. He also had a consumingdesire to possess its mistress--all the more that she had twicerefused him; that she had declined his acquaintance altogether sincethe little party at Glas-aitch-e. It would be a fine revenge t
opossess her by right of conquest--a fine revenge on her and on theodious Terence. No; it was hardly likely that the giant intended topermit Miss Wolfe to become Madam Shane.