The Watchman's Grace

by Craig Johnson

  Mary could sense the sharp impact her pending news would have on Eamon. For now there was no doubt in her mind he would be terribly distressed. Taking gentle hold of his right hand, she looked lovingly into his eyes.

  “Eamon Harvey, never you wonder for one minute that your body will rise up from this tired bed! You are a man that has proved throughout his life how the spirit of soul can overcome almost anything. I will see the day when you are once again tending garden while catching salt air in your lungs!”

  “Now how can I deny such a pretty girl’s wishes?” Eamon replied endearingly. Straightening up in his bed, Eamon’s voice reverted to its familiar tone of fatherly confidence.

  “I may be sick and my brain working a tad slower, though I can still tell when my little girl has something to say. You know there is nothing those lips cannot depart to my ears. So please, let me have the straight goods Mary.”

  Mary hesitated before releasing the unrestricted truth. “Father, we had a visitor this afternoon that did not bring the kindest of news to our door. Please understand I am so afraid of upsetting your condition by telling you this. Though it is a grave family matter which must be told.

  “I’ve been wondering for weeks how Peter has been getting on. It’s been some time since I last received a post. So imagine my surprise when this stranger Niall arrives with news of his happenings! Niall recounted what recently transpired in Peter’s life. Now I will tell you everything I learned, which must not leave the walls of our home.”

  Despite the discomfort Eamon was experiencing, it was hard not to notice additional anguish now borne upon his face. Bracing himself for unpleasant news, he nodded for Mary to continue with her account.

  As he expected to hear, all had turned horribly wrong. Although he understood every word, Eamon could not help but wonder if this bizarre tale of events was truly believable. Though when he seen the pain burning in his daughter’s eyes, there was no room left for doubt. When she finished, Eamon tried hard to contain his emotions.

  “I thank you Mary for telling me all this. That must have been so hard on you to hear Niall’s news firsthand! Remember, there’s no strength in fear, and Peter needs us now more than ever to stay strong for him. It will be hard for a time, though we will see this through!

  “For now let’s take comfort that he is still alive. I guess this places my hopes to see him one last time into great uncertainty. All I can do is try and last long enough for that possibility. I do hope it’s soon enough to grant a dying man’s wish.”

  “Don’t speak of such father! Now more than ever you have to fight this and see yourself through. Was it not you that always said we Harveys are survivors, come what may?”

  Eamon managed to crack a remembering smile. “Your memory is as sharp as ever Mary. Yet there are some mountains that cannot be crossed, even with the aid of Harvey resolve.

  “You heard the doctor’s latest diagnosis. I will soon be lost to this world. I’ve made my peace some time ago after your mother died. However, there remains one last piece of unfinished business. I will not go willingly if I cannot see my grandson one more time.”

  Mary fought back welling tears to remain in control of her thoughts. “If I had the power, we would both have him sitting right here, telling us everything that happened lately in his life. Though Niall made it very clear there were people looking out for his best interests.

  “All we have now is faith, father. Faith our ancestors held to build a homestead on this windswept plot of land. The same faith which helped guide generations of Harveys to good lives in quiet dignity. Believing in the same faith will see Peter survive this terrible ordeal, leading him back to a better life. That is all we have left to keep us content.”

  Eamon patted Mary’s hand ever so gently. “As usual, your words speak wisdom and compassion. I know it’s been said before, though how your mother and I wished our means matched your wit! Parents try everything to give the best they can for their children. Alas, like I said before, even our greatest efforts can sometimes fall short. That is when reality fails to meet the ambitions of our hearts.

  “Mary, you have no need to put a brave face on this tragedy. Let those tears flow daughter! My goodness, if there was ever a time it was needed, this is surely one.”

  She leaned forward into Eamon’s outstretched arms, letting go of this burdensome grief. Her pain was doubly deep in knowing days were not long before such a moment would be impossible. After a short time Mary calmed herself and relaxed their embrace.

  “Thank you so much father. Yes, I do find it difficult to accept all Niall lay before me. Though I am proud Peter is fighting for an honorable cause. This is something he has believed in since a child. There is no shame in saving the life of another, especially when you’ve sacrificed your own freedom in the process. How my heart wishes to lay eyes on him again, though my senses tell me a different ending.”

  “Such are ways of the heart Mary. Without it we would not have life, though with it we feel so much when it works well enough. Mine was pulled apart when your mother passed away in the prime of our life together.

  “Damn it, this matter with Peter seems too much like wicked intervention! These things make me truly wonder. What did I do in life to deserve losing those I hold so dear in the vilest of fashions?”

  “Wicked ways do not need a reason to act, as it is in their nature,” Mary reasoned. “Living is a constant struggle to overcome the many ways it tries to destroy us throughout and within. You have always lived as a decent, respectable man. Evil despises the fact it could not break you, so it tries to weaken your resolve.

  “Your life has shown it has no place in our home. In the end, that is all anyone can do; be true to oneself and be that for others. For that I love you more than any words I can express!”

  In a reflective moment, Mary realized the promise Peter made on accepting tuition monies for attending Queen’s College. A quiet tear wrestled from her eye as she noted his Common Man Movement fulfilled the promise made to Donal Cleary. As his former teacher requested, Peter did “Help to uplift them so not one more has to emigrate. Not one more has to starve.”

  Eamon Harvey was not a man given to easy displays of emotion. Yet as Mary beheld her cherished father’s caring face, she observed a silent stream of tears flowing down the wrinkled creases of his ruddy visage. Her words had definitely made their mark on him.

  “Mary, I am so blessed to have a daughter like you. Most parents go to their graves wondering if their child really cared about them, or how well they raised their offspring. Your mother and I never had to entertain such trying notions.

  “I love you with the same affection as when you were born, perhaps more so. That will never change. When you brought a blessing like Peter into our life, it proved good things do come from good people!”

  Mary was overcome with warmth at hearing Eamon’s words. “Oh, father, I know it is a gift from above to have a son like Peter. Though my mind keeps going back to the way Niall spoke about him. There was a reverence which went beyond passing admiration.

  “It may sound strange, though he made me feel that I could never again look upon Peter as only my baby. It seems many people now need him to fulfill their own desires, their own comforts. How I wonder if their needs made a martyr while sacrificing the good life of my son?”

  Eamon began a deep coughing fit before slumping back in his bed. “I think we’ve said all we needed for now. Best I retire for the evening. Considering all you’ve faced today Mary, you might do the same.”

  Mary leaned forward and kissed her father softly on his forehead. Gathering Eamon’s plate after pulling his covers tight, she went to the kitchen, completing remaining chores before bedtime.

  *****

  Even in still of chilled night Brendan O’Bannon could not relax. Now the Security Force had an approximate location for Peter Harvey. Taking on a few officers in a c
oordinated ambush was one matter. Yet within hours Thurston would probably alert local constabulary throughout County Mayo and beyond to request total assistance for the recapture of Peter. With everything to gain, Thurston would exercise no limits in his quest to bring Harvey in.

  Brendan was also aware Aidan Malloy needed to be informed promptly that his escape network had been compromised. In addition, he could assure him the betrayal had been resolved by O’Bannon personally. Brendan had to send a coded message by telegraph to Dublin immediately. He knew exactly who could assist those efforts.

  “Darragh, I need to head back for Sligo straight away. It makes no sense for Peter to follow. I want to check on our prisoner and formulate plans against a possible strike from the Security Force. So take Keenan with you and escort Peter on to Ballyhaunis.

  “On arrival, seek out the Malloy estate and ask for Connor Healy. He can then send a telegram to Dublin. Let Aidan know the escape network for Peter was compromised, though I took care of everything.

  “As well, make sure to tell Aidan that Peter is waiting for a return telegram concerning his next course of action. Since the last rendezvous point at Meadow Farm was compromised, he needs a port to get out of the country immediately! There is only a window of time before Major Thurston has every constabulary in the west coast on full alert.

  “Connor Healy knows to send everything in secret code. The reply from Aidan will be similar. Now be off while the cover of darkness works in your favor, though it will take an eight hour ride. When sun breaks, stick to back trails and isolated routes. There is no time to conceal Peter from casual eyes. It’s the chance we have to take.”

  Peter rode over to Brendan O’Bannon before extending a hand of appreciation. “Thank you Brendan for everything you have done. Your men have all my sincerest wishes for continued success. I will never forget this.”

  Brendan took his open hand and shook firmly. “The best way for you to show thanks is leaving this country safely! You’ve made your mark as a respected leader of the self-government movement. Though I will never rest if they later come to call you a martyr as well.”

  Brendan’s party from Sheehan’s Rest now became split in two. Darragh, Keenan and Peter started a long ride southeast towards Ballyhaunis. Brendan took the remainder back on a four hour journey northeast to their quarters in Sligo. Peter could feel extreme tension in the air as his trio set out; so much lay in the balance. Fortunately they did not have to ride near Castlebar or its environs.

  Darragh, Keenan and Peter rode in relative silence for the first half of their journey. Each one had many thoughts which played through their active minds. When they reached near Swinford, Peter recalled his last day of freedom before heading to Meadow Farm. As the refreshing River Moy came into view, Darragh decided to rest and water their horses along an isolated stretch of bank.

  “We’re making decent progress, so I didn’t want to press the horses,” he remarked. “With daylight on its way better we stop in nightfall. Once we’re in plain view there will be every reason to keep moving. How’s the ride treating you Peter?”

  “Darragh, it’s much better than rattling about while stuffed in a hidden carriage compartment! I’ll take fresh air any day if the choice is available. It’s also good to know we’re off to meet someone I’ve already been acquainted with.”

  “You know Connor Healy?” asked a surprised Keenan.

  “He came to visit the hideout at Meadow Farm just hours before my capture. Funny how he assured me by saying, “Within a matter of days we will have you out of Ireland.” Little did he know I would come back to take him at his word!”

  It was not long before Peter and his companions resumed their ride for Ballyhaunis. A scant period of time later daylight crept slowly skywards on their distant horizon. Here was the riskiest part of this ride.

  Brendan had chosen wisely by having Darragh as lead. He displayed a strong sense of direction, combined with instincts worthy of a seasoned guide. As a result, rare indeed were those times another human could lay eyes upon them.

  On reaching the perimeter of Ballyhaunis, Keenan and Peter waited in cover while Darragh found out directions to a Malloy property called Duncanmore. Connor Healy was located at this estate, named for Peter’s dear confident. He soon rode back with the required information in hand. Ten minutes later found them riding along a tree lined approach towards Duncanmore’s main house.

  “Let’s make haste about our business,” said Darragh to the other riders. “Who knows how much time Peter has before the Security Force makes another move. It’s just past noon, so I hope we can locate Connor quickly.”

  The trio rode towards an old Georgian pile situated on a low green rise. Duncanmore surveyed in majestic fashion all which lay about its fine structure. Soon the men stopped near its main entrance to dismount. Before they could do so, a commanding voice brought them to attention.

  “Hello there gentlemen, do you have business here today?” someone firmly inquired.

  Darragh looked towards the man and addressed him. “Yes, we are here to meet Connor Healy on important business. Would he be available?”

  The man studied Darragh and his companions carefully before responding. “I know he is due in town on business this afternoon and may have already departed. Please wait here while I make certain.”

  Peter’s look of disappointment mirrored Darragh’s and Keenan’s. This would be the worst possible news, costing precious time. Their inquirer returned a few minutes later alone. All hopes for good fortune appeared dashed.

  “I take it we’ve missed our chance to meet with him,” stated Darragh frankly. “May I ask when we can return to see him?”

  Their inquirer looked confused. Without uttering a solitary word, he pointed behind the trio. Immediately they turned their heads around. Then a warm smile of recognition painted Peter’s face.

  “Connor Healy, so good to see you again!” he exclaimed. “We have ridden hours to get here.”

  Connor was caught in a moment of equal astonishment. “Peter, what in the hell are you doing here? Come down from your mount and tell me what has happened! And who are these men with you?”

  “Meet Darragh and Keenan,” introduced Peter. “They are good men so not to worry. We need a safe place to talk confidentially. Can you show us to one straight away?”

  Connor was coming back to his senses after his initial surprise. “Of course I know of one. Tie up your horses and follow me.”

  Upon doing as Connor instructed, they followed him into a manager’s cottage not far away. When he closed the door, Connor faced the trio wearing an anxious face. Instinctively he knew all was not well.

  “Before we continue, I will let Peter explain what has happened since you last met at Meadow Farm,” voiced Darragh. “Our meeting here will be much easier to understand when you hear what preceded it.”

  Connor motioned for the men to sit down. “Alright then Peter, tell me what has happened to you since we last met,” he inquired.

  Peter leaned forward, relating all which had transpired. From when he answered his door for Riley Flaherty to the dramatic rescue by Brendan O’Bannon’s men, Connor listened with great interest. When Peter finished, Connor looked at all three men in wonder.

  “That’s some tale indeed! I too extend my thanks for rescuing Peter. I certainly agree there is no time to waste. Let’s compose the message for Aidan here so I can translate it to code. Then we shall ride off to the telegraph office for transmission.

  “Of course we have no guarantee how long it will take for Aidan to receive this and send a reply. We can only hope it is not too great a wait.”

  Within twenty minutes Darragh and Connor rode off towards Ballyhaunis town proper. Peter and Keenan waited in the manager’s cottage until they returned. As a precaution, they decided it best to continue minimizing Peter’s presence in public.

  Each minut
e seemed an eternity while both men waited for Aidan’s reply. Connor noted that Aidan usually sent an employee daily to visit his local telegraph office for retrieving important correspondence. They trusted today was no exception. His prompt response was vital; Aidan had to arrange an alternative safe house, along with further instructions to resume Peter’s escape.

  Finally they were summoned inside by the office manager to pick up an urgent message from Dublin. It only took two hours for Aidan’s response. Realizing their luck, they rode back to Duncanmore with grateful smiles.

  When they entered the manager’s cottage, Peter jumped from his seat. “Did you receive Aidan’s reply so quickly?” he questioned.

  “Right here in my hands,” Connor confirmed. “Give me a few moments while I translate everything. May I suggest everyone prepares for travel? I can bring the correspondence out to Peter when I am finished.”

  “Sounds like a good idea Connor,” Darragh replied. “Okay men. Let’s prepare to move out from here.”

  Keenan, Peter and Darragh walked off to their horses while Connor transcribed Aidan’s response. He was pleased to note Aidan had answered all of their requests in good fashion. Most importantly, it appeared Peter’s departure from the Island was coming shortly. Grabbing his paper from the table, he rushed out to the waiting party.

  “Here you are Peter, with all the information you shall require. I thank you Darragh and Keenan in providing him safe passage here to Duncanmore. I wish you a safe journey back to your quarters.”

  Peter received the paper from Connor. “Let’s hope this contains all I need to complete my escape. Your efforts are very much appreciated Connor.”

  He read each word with the greatest of care. Peter knew the importance of having a firm understanding of what tasks lay before him. Nothing less than his entire future depended on every instruction contained herein. It read as follows.