Apparently Connor was famished, devouring his remaining biscuits in quick succession. After a quick wipe of his face, Connor began with a look of much sadness.
“Peter, my visit concerns the welfare of Samuel McGee. Knowing he was a close confident of yours in the Common Man Movement, I will spare no details. Here is all I know.
“Aidan Malloy was alerted by a hotel clerk late last evening that Samuel was in grave danger. It appears that officers from the British Security Force had come to his hotel, Regency Arms, to question him. Naturally Aidan sent out some men to see if he was in harm’s way.
“On arrival, they were informed by the hotel manager that Samuel had disappeared from his room. The men questioned him further, but nothing of value could be gained. When Aidan’s hires canvassed Samuel’s room, they could find no clue of his whereabouts. It appeared some form of foul play had been perpetrated.”
Peter was filled with dread to hear this shocking development. “Why did the Security Force come for Samuel? What would spur them on to confront him? Connor, please tell me they eventually found him in safe hands!”
Connor looked away for a moment as if searching for some proper words to say. Then he looked back to Peter with the greatest face of pity.
“Someone did find him, early this morning to be exact. A local fishmonger came upon an unidentified body in an alleyway near his shop. He notified the local police immediately. Aidan had one man posted at the station, since they found no trace of Samuel previously. Aidan had hoped to gain some news of his appearance from there.
“Hearing the latest, that man followed the police, just in case it was Samuel’s body. When they arrived at the scene, chance became reality. Samuel’s head had been savagely crushed, hair crusted firmly to skull in his own blood.”
Peter convulsed in absolute horror. “You’re telling me that Samuel McGee has been murdered? Those bastards had no right! This second class attitude towards our citizens has gone on far too long, and it’s high time they were held to account! Damn this farce; is it not obvious the Security Force played a brutal hand here?”
“I share your grief Peter, along with thousands of others. There is no doubt in mine, Aidan or anyone else’s right minds they played a central role in this macabre affair! Yet the police have no reasonable clues to go on so far as evidence. Actually, all they can say is it appears to be the result of a desperate mugging gone amiss.
“Samuel’s family has been notified by telegraph. We wanted to inform you as soon as practical, though it was thought you had already left your last safe house. Therefore Aidan had to give you reasonable time to reach the next one. Everything I know came in a coded telegram which only I could decipher, being Aidan’s chief contact in Ballyhaunis. And that is why I came to you at such an odd hour.”
Peter was overwhelmed with a tangle of emotions ranging from deep loss to fond memories. Meanwhile, he could be in no doubt his capture was of vital necessity to the Security Force. Nothing would impede their progress towards achieving that final aim.
Connor went over to give Peter consoling pats on the shoulder. “You have no blame in all of this. Remember the objectives of our Common Man Movement will surely bring about an end to these acts of cold blooded murder. Though none of us can be under any illusions it will come without great costs.
“I fear many patriots will rise and be cut down before some form of self-government is achieved. So be it if that’s the price of liberty! For if nothing else, this life has taught me anything worth having comes with much sacrifice.
“As for your situation, know well that we have never lost one person through our network. The Security Force has stepped up its attacks against us, though we have our allies as well. Mark my words Peter Harvey; we will get you out of this country!
“Having said that, we may have been compromised, depending on what they extracted from Samuel under severe duress. After all, we are only human, and any person could break under their heinous methods of interrogation.”
Despite Connor’s reassuring words, Peter continued to labor under heavy grief. “Can’t anyone see that Samuel’s blood is on my hands? Now he’s given everything for the cause, including his own life! How can I ever find peace in light of these facts?
“You must promise me Connor to relay to Aidan that Samuel’s family must be provided for immediately! Damn it all; I continue to be amazed at how a man who is good and just can be persecuted in this perverse land, just because he wants his birthright of freedom?
“Despite all the everyday sacrifices, nothing has changed for the better! Still Ireland continues to rot at its core with unspeakable horrors. She gives nothing to those that till its land and yearn for an even hand to support their families!”
Peter rose from his chair in absolute frustration and began pacing about. He tried wearing down his frustrations through physical exertion, which met with some success. Then, after coming to a sudden stop, he stared out a lone window in the old stone cottage before speaking further.
“Where is the sanity in all of these things Connor? I feel so damn tired of losing people close to me. There seems to be no end to these sacrifices until I am captured and hung. So where does that leave me Connor? What is a man to do in the face of a powerful, violent enemy that refuses to relent?”
Connor left where he stood to join Peter near the window. “You knew the answer to that question before it even left your lips. Everyone is too far committed to even consider abandonment until self-government is achieved, regardless of the Lion’s tactics.
“Within a matter of days we will have you out of Ireland. If the network fails to do so it would be a result of Samuel’s integrity being breached. In that instance, this country would surely become your grave.”
Peter reflected on Connor’s latest comments. “Rare indeed are times I can convey feelings of doubt; so often I am portrayed as the stoic defender of this movement. There’s logic in your reasoning Connor, though I detest being reduced to slipping about like some common thief in the dead of night!
“So much remains to be done in our quest for a democratic Ireland, though my actions are rendered powerless. This young tree has begun to sprout after many hard days of watering and pruning. Now I am robbed of sharing its fruits! How ironic, considering I have helped sew the vital nutrients which fed its sustaining roots.”
“Rest well knowing your work will never be forgotten, so long as people remember the Common Man Movement! Just be doubly cautious from here on in. We suspect the game to escalate in ferocity until you leave Eire. Are you in need of anything for the journey ahead?”
“Not really, though I do appreciate you asking. I will be meeting the owner here by morning. However, there are some messages you could pass along. Let Aidan know I am in decent spirits. Tell Duncan to carry on what we began with redoubled conviction. And let Maggie know she will always hold a most cherished place in my affections.”
“I shall do everything you request Peter. Well, if I am not needed further the road back to Ballyhaunis beckons. Before I leave, Aidan gave me a direct order to give you this.” Connor placed three hundred pounds sterling into Peter’s unsuspecting hands. “You can never have too much in your situation.”
“A mighty thanks for everything tonight. Have a safe journey home Connor.”
“Likewise Peter, and tell this owner they make the best of biscuits! In fact, I shall take a few more for the ride ahead.”
Placing the food in his jacket pockets, Connor waved farewell before striding outside to his waiting horse. Peter watched Connor slowly melt into night before returning inside. Looking at his pocket watch, he guessed there were still four more hours of sleep before the property owner paid a morning visit. Walking back to the inviting cot, he attempted to rest once again.
Moonlit pale glow caught Connor Healy riding at steady pace back to his quarters in Ballyhaunis. It reflected inside a half filled buck
et outside Peter Harvey’s temporary residence. Dancing on the weathered cobblestone of Dublin’s Fitzwilliam Square, it captured Aidan Malloy peering in wonder outside his bedroom window.
Somewhere in rough camp outside Sligo, moonlight revealed Major Thurston in league with three frustrated officers. Near Sligo’s town limits, that same orb cast a weeping yellow on a stand of five lone houses, one of which lost a father. And nearby in County Mayo, another widow in the Common Man Movement wept inconsolably for her beloved husband Samuel.
Chapter Eighteen
A QUESTION OF LOYALTY
One person’s commitment is another’s treachery
Stirring breezes helped cool the crush of heated anxieties felt by one Seamus Flaherty. He anxiously waited for an important encounter just outside of Castlebar. Earlier in the day Seamus had been requested to make arrangements for meeting a powerful gentleman. Circumstances dictated he facilitate the man’s request.
Looking up to the late afternoon sky, he spotted a lone crow silently circling overhead for carrion. Peering further about him, Seamus noted the still of isolation which mocked town life’s contrived bustle. He found it odd indeed how one would favor urban life over the calming influence of rolling landscape and fresh air. As he reflected further on the issue, his expected party arrived to meet him.
Mr. Cunningham rode in high style as his covered carriage approached the appointed location. He came to their meeting wearing his customary bespoke tailoring. Cunningham achieved much material gain through various schemes and endeavors, some rumored beyond a gentleman’s agreement in nature. He was an opportunist of the highest order, letting little obstruct his grasping quests for lucre.
Today Cunningham held fond hopes of collecting a most handsome reward. He sensed an opportunity for generous returns upon arriving to capture his latest prey. Here on home ground, which happened to be one of Cunningham’s numerous properties, they would discuss a most urgent matter.
Slowing to a full stop, Mr. Cunningham stepped down from his carriage. He gave Seamus Flaherty a wave of acknowledgement while walking over.
“Good day to you Mr. Flaherty. Sorry for the tardiness; there was much business to attend in town. I trust your ride out here was not too much trouble?”
“None at all, though I would prefer we kept our time here brief Mr. Cunningham. I have been attending to personal matters for days and would like to enjoy some time with my family.”
“I understand fully,” replied Mr. Cunningham in strained sympathy. “My goodness, it is such a lovely place, your Meadow Farm. You must truly miss any time spent away from such serene splendor!”
“Any man wishes to spend as much time with his family as possible I would think. So why are we here Mr. Cunningham?”
Cunningham purposely sidestepped the question. “Your family loves it there, don’t they? Aye, to think five generations of Flahertys have tilled that soil and raised hearty cattle there! It is a sheer pity when a man’s obstinacy threatens to undo decades of made goodness.
“You know why I called for you today Mr. Flaherty. Faithfully I have carried this large sum in respect of your ancestors’ toil. Though now I feel my good graces have been taken for granted far too long.
“So understand me clearly when I say you shall lose house, buildings and land because of this overdue matter! We both know I am perfectly within my rights to not only repossess that home, but all of what you have. However, having stated these facts, I am not without some remorse over your current misfortune.”
Seamus could feel his blood pulsing stronger in a flush of anger. “Listen Cunningham, I’ve come here to curry no special favor from you. We both know I find myself in severe adversity. So why have you requested this meeting? What is it you wish here today?”
Cunningham walked closer to Seamus, weighing his words carefully before responding. “As it happens, there may be a way you can help me to help you. My close confidant Major Stanley Thurston sent me a telegram this morning about a Colored fugitive named Peter Harvey. He is wanted for cold blooded murder in Dublin and warned me to be on the lookout for him. In fact, Stanley was waiting to board a Midland Great Western train to Sligo as he sent this message on.
“As fate would have it, there were rumblings in certain quarters that a Colored man has been spotted traveling across open field between here and Swinford earlier this afternoon. And knowing the great concern he poses for my friend, I have taken it upon myself to lend some assistance in locating this scoundrel. If we are fortunate enough, Major Thurston will still be in Sligo tomorrow. Now here is where your actions can benefit us both.
“It is well known in Castlebar that people place extreme confidence in your sound judgment and upstanding character. This places you in an ideal position to glean any secondhand information about this renegade. All it would take is for one anxious townsperson to relay their crisis of confidence to pinpoint Harvey’s location.
“So I leave my next action on Meadow Farm solely within your hands. If you gather enough information to capture him, there will be much bounty for a good life and a clearing of all your outstanding debts.”
Flaherty shot a look of utter disbelief at Cunningham. “Can my ears be deceiving me? Are you suggesting I become a bounty hunter on the trail of a wanted man to save my land? Damn you Cunningham, do you know how preposterous that sounds? I don’t know the first thing about such matters!”
Immediately Cunningham’s conciliatory tone turned less welcoming. “You look good and hard at the choices before you Flaherty. It concerns me not whether you are successful. After all, I hold a mortgage over all you own! There is considerable charity in my proposition, and you would be well suited to take good fortune when it comes a calling. So again I leave the Flaherty’s future in your hands. Are we clear here?”
Flaherty shook his head in frustrated confusion. “Listen here Cunningham, how in land’s sake am I to find the whereabouts of this Colored fellow? I am not a tracker or investigator. You know better than most all my days have been given to honor my father’s past obligations. To say your proposal offers me a chance for resolution is pure cynicism. It leaves me no reasonable avenue for a dignified conclusion to this matter.”
Cunningham paced towards a nearby tall oak and looked into its leaves. “So that’s your stand on the situation Mr. Flaherty? Everyone with a bit of sense realizes that times continue to be desperate all across Ireland. Only the determined will survive hunger, expropriation or emigration. As for gathering information, people will confide the strangest things when their minds are saddled with great distress.
“Mark me well Seamus Flaherty; the day will always come when we are held to final account. It just happens yours is tomorrow evening. There is nothing more to say here. Good night to you Mr. Flaherty.” Cunningham turned abruptly and strode towards his elegantly appointed cab waiting nearby.
Seamus was left alone to wipe anxious sweat from the tips of his furrowed brows. Cunningham had just given him a notice of eviction in so many words. He stood rooted to the spot while trying to make sense of the situation before him.
Currently he stood mere hours from eviction at Meadow Farm. Compounding his problems was a tale never told. Throughout their years of solid marriage, Flaherty never mentioned to his devoted wife one major legacy left by his late father. For on his untimely demise Seamus inherited a substantial mortgage on the ancestral legacies bequeathed to him.
As he mounted his waiting horse, Seamus’s mind wrestled with a tangle of notions. Thinking first of amending past omissions, he determined to set one issue straight immediately. Seamus’s wife Katy needed to be informed of what was at hand. So tonight this last secret between them would be laid bare.
Seamus felt truly ashamed of his secret, though determined never to repeat it. So when this fact was out in the open, they would make their next course of action a joint decision. Satisfied, he rode in silence towards Meadow Farm un
der a brooding evening sky.
Arriving at Meadow Farm, Seamus went quickly to fetch his wife. When he met up with her, she could tell by the deep worry lines upon his forehead there was urgency in his actions.
“Katy, thank goodness you’re here! I have to speak with you this instant; let’s go find some privacy. There’s a topic of great importance we must discuss straight away. Have the children retired to their rooms?”
Katy looked back in curiosity at Seamus. “Yes, I believe so. It sounds as if the boys have a full agenda tomorrow.”
“Very well Katy. We should go into the kitchen.” Seamus led the way before both parents seated themselves at its large oak table.
Seamus proceeded to gently cup his large hands around Katy’s. “My dear wife; let me begin by saying that without your love and constant support, all we have would mean nothing. Of this I am truly certain.
“Having said so, it pains me to tell you I have not been as honest as your complete fidelity in me warranted. I am speaking about Meadow Farm, Katy. We are in danger of losing it completely.”
Considering the extreme implications of what he just stated, Katy failed to lose her composure. In fact, she looked directly into his eyes, full of firm resolve. Seamus was surprised by her reaction in the face of impending financial ruin. Keeping soft hands within his, Katy voiced her response to the dire news.
“Oh Seamus, did you think this was hidden from my eyes all this time? However, I will admit to not having the faintest notion until a couple of years ago. You do remember our good friends Rory and Kelly Murphy?”
“Of course I do, but what interests have they in all of this?”
“None directly I suppose. One afternoon back then Kelly had me over for tea. We enjoyed a splendid afternoon discussing all manner of things. Then, as the day drew to a close she mentioned there was an issue of certain confidence on her mind. It concerned a case her husband Rory was working on.”
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