Maurice Tiernay, Soldier of Fortune

by Charles James Lever

  CHAPTER XXIX. THE BREAKFAST AT LETTERKENNY

  Early the next morning, a messenger arrived from the Cranagh, with asmall packet of my clothes and effects, and a farewell letter from thetwo brothers. I had but time to glance over its contents when the trampof feet and the buzz of voices in the street attracted me to the window,and on looking out I saw a long line of men, two abreast, who weremarching along as prisoners, a party of dismounted dragoons keepingguard over them on either side, followed by a strong detachment ofmarines. The poor fellows looked sad and crest-fallen enough. Many ofthem wore bandages on their heads and limbs, the tokens of the latestruggle. Immediately in front of the inn door stood a group of aboutthirty persons; they were the staff of the English force, and theofficers of our fleet, all mingled together, and talking away withthe greatest air of unconcern. I was struck by remarking that all ourseamen, though prisoners, saluted the officers as they passed, and inthe glances interchanged I thought I could read a world of sympathyand encouragement. As for the officers, like true Frenchmen they borethemselves as though it were one of the inevitable chances of war, and,however vexatious for the moment, not to be thought of as an event ofmuch importance. The greater number of them belonged to the army, and Icould see the uniforms of the staff, artillery and dragoons, as well asthe less distinguished costume of the line.

  Perhaps they carried the affectation of indifference a little too far,and in the lounging ease of their attitude, and the cool unconcernwith which they puffed their cigars, displayed an over-anxiety to seemunconcerned.

  That the English were piqued at their bearing was still more plain tosee; and indeed, in the sullen looks of the one, and the careless gaietyof the other party, a stranger might readily have mistaken the captorfor the captive.

  My two friends of the evening before were in the midst of the group. Hewho had questioned me so sharply now wore a general officer's uniform,and seemed to be the chief in command. As I watched him I heard himaddressed by an officer, and now saw that he was no other than LordCavan himself, while the other was a well-known magistrate and countrygentleman, Sir George Hill.

  The sad procession took almost half an hour to defile; and then came along string of country cars and carts, with sea-chests and otherstores belonging to our officers, and, last of all, some eight or tenammunition-waggons and gun-carriages, over which an English union-jacknow floated in token of conquest.

  There was nothing like exultation or triumph exhibited by the peasantryas this pageant passed. They gazed in silent wonderment at the scene,and looked like men who scarcely knew whether the result boded more ofgood or evil to their own fortunes. While keenly scrutinising the looksand bearing of the bystanders, I received a summons to meet the generaland his party at breakfast.

  Although the occurrence was one of the most pleasurable incidents of mylife, which brought me once more into intercourse with my comrades andmy countrymen, I should perhaps pass it over with slight mention, wereit not that it made me witness to a scene which has since been recordedin various different ways, but of whose exact details I profess to be anaccurate narrator.

  After making a tour of the room, saluting my comrades, answeringquestions here, putting others there, I took my place at the long table,which, running the whole length of the apartment, was indiscriminatelyoccupied by French and English, and found myself with my back tothe fireplace, and having directly in front of me a man of aboutthirty-three or thirty-four years of age, dressed in the uniform of a_chef de brigade_; light-haired and blue-eyed, he bore no resemblancewhatever to those around him, whose dark faces and black beardsproclaimed them of a foreign origin. There was an air of mildness in hismanner, mingled with a certain impetuosity that betrayed itself in therapid glances of his eye, and I could plainly mark that while the restwere perfectly at their ease, he was constrained, restless, watchingeagerly everything that went forward about him, and showing unmistakablya certain anxiety and distrust, widely differing from the gay andcareless indifference of his comrades. I was curious to hear his name,and on asking, learned that he was the _Chef de Brigade_ Smith, anIrishman by birth, but holding a command in the French service.

  I had but asked the question, when, pushing back his chair from thetable, he arose suddenly, and stood stiff and erect, like a soldier onparade.

  'Well, sir, I hope you are satisfied with your inspection of me,' criedhe, and sternly, addressing himself to some one behind my back. I turnedand perceived it was Sir George Hill, who stood in front of the fire,leaning on his stick. Whether he replied or not to this rude speech I amunable to say, but the other walked leisurely round the table and camedirectly in front of him. 'You know me now, sir, I presume,' said he,in the same imperious voice, 'or else this uniform has made a greaterchange in my appearance than I knew of.'

  'Mr. Tone!' said Sir George, in a voice scarcely above a whisper.

  'Ay, sir, Wolfe Tone; there is no need of secrecy here; Wolfe Tone, yourold college acquaintance in former times, but now _chef de brigade_ inthe service of France.'

  'This is a very unexpected, a very unhappy meeting, Mr. Tone,' said Hillfeelingly; 'I sincerely wish you had not recalled the memory of our pastacquaintance. My duty gives me no alternative.'

  'Your duty, or I mistake much, can have no concern with me, sir,' criedTone, in a more excited voice.

  'I ask for nothing better than to be sure of this, Mr. Tone,' said SirGeorge, moving slowly towards the door.

  'You would treat me like an _emigre rentre?_ cried Tone passionately,'but I am a French subject and a French officer!'

  'I shall be well satisfied if others take the same view of your case, Iassure you,' said Hill, as he gained the door.

  'You 'll not find me unprepared for either event, sir,' rejoined Tone,following him out of the room, and banging the door angrily behind him.

  For a moment or two the noise of voices was heard from without, andseveral of the guests, English and French, rose from the table, eagerlyinquiring what had occurred, and asking for an explanation of the scene,when suddenly the door was flung wide open, and Tone appeared betweentwo policemen, his coat off, and his wrists inclosed in handcuffs.

  'Look here, comrades,' he cried in French; 'this is another specimen ofEnglish politeness and hospitality. After all,' added he, with a bitterlaugh, 'they have no designation in all their heraldry as honourable asthese fetters, when worn for the cause of freedom! Good-bye, comrades;we may never meet again, but don't forget how we parted.'

  These were the last words he uttered, when the door was closed, and hewas led forward under charge of a strong force of police and military.A postchaise was soon seen to pass the windows at speed, escorted bydragoons, and we saw no more of our comrade.

  The incident passed even more rapidly than I write it. The few wordsspoken, the hurried gestures, the passionate exclamations, are yet alldeeply graven on my memory; and I can recall every little incident ofthe scene, and every feature of the locality wherein it occurred. Withtrue French levity many reseated themselves at the breakfast-table;whilst others, with perhaps as little feeling, but more of curiosity,discussed the event, and sought for an explanation of its meaning.

  'Then what's to become of Tiernay,' cried one, 'if it be so hardto throw off this "coil of Englishmen?" His position may be just asprecarious.'

  'That is exactly what has occurred,' said Lord Cavan; 'a warrant for hisapprehension has just been put into my hands, and I deeply regretthat the duty should violate that of hospitality, and make my guest myprisoner.'

  'May I see this warrant, my lord?' asked I.

  'Certainly, sir. Here it is; and here is the information on oath throughwhich it was issued, sworn to before three justices of the peace by acertain Joseph Dowall, late an officer in the rebel forces, but now apardoned approver of the Crown; do you remember such a man, sir?'

  I bowed, and he went on.

  'He would seem a precious rascal; but such characters becomeindispensable in times like these. After all, M. Tiernay, my orders areonly to
transmit you to Dublin under safe escort, and there is nothingeither in my duty or in your position to occasion any feeling ofunpleasantness between us. Let us have a glass of wine together.'

  I responded to this civil proposition with politeness, and, aftera slight interchange of leave-takings with some of my newly-foundcomrades, I set out for Derry on a jaunting-car, accompanied byan officer and two policemen, affecting to think very little of acircumstance which, in reality, the more I reflected over, the moreserious I deemed it.