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 MY LORDS OF STROGUE.
 
 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 A CHRONICLE OF IRELAND, FROM THE CONVENTION 
 TO THE UNION. 
 
 BY 
 
 HON. LEWIS WINGFIELD, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 'LA.DY GR1ZEL,' ETC. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON : 
 RICHARD BENTLEY AND SON, 
 
 $xtbUshms in (Drfctnarg to ^tt ittajest^ tht tynun. 
 
 1879. 
 
 \Att Rights Reserved.]
 
 ' God of Peace ! before Thee 
 Peaceful here we kneel, 
 Humbly to implore Thee 
 
 For a nation's weal. 
 Calm her sons' dissensions, 
 
 Bid their discord cease, 
 
 End their mad contentions — 
 
 Hear us, God of Peace ! 
 
 (Spirit of the Nation.)
 
 W7 
 
 TO 
 
 E. W. B. 
 
 1 inscribe this J).o0fc 
 
 IN MEMORY OF 
 
 A CLOSE FRIENDSHIP.
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 CHAPTER J'AGE 
 
 I. MIRAGE 1 
 
 II. RETROSPECT ----- 32 
 
 III. SHADOWS ----- 52 
 
 IV. BANISHMENT ----- 69 
 V. STROGUE ABBEY .... - 103 
 
 VI. MY LADY'S PROJECT - - - - 131 
 
 VII. TRINITY - - - - - 144 
 
 VIII. CAIN AND ABEL - - - - 166 
 
 IX. THE PRIORY - - - - - 195 
 
 X. LOVES AND DOVES? - 225 
 
 XI. STORMY WEATHER - 260 
 
 XII. A mother's WILES - 274
 
 
 r. 
 
 
 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 MIRAGE. 
 
 * Hurrah ! 'tis done — our freedom's won — hurrah for the 
 
 Volunteers ! 
 By arms we've got the rights we sought through long and 
 
 wretched years. 
 Eemember still through good and ill how vain were prayers 
 
 and tears — 
 How vain were words till flashed the swords of the Irish 
 
 Volunteers.' 
 
 sang all Dublin in a delirium of triumph 
 
 on the 9fch of November, 1783. From the 
 
 dawn of day joy-bells had rung jocund 
 
 peals; rich tapestries and silken folds 
 
 of green and orange bad swayed from every balcony; 
 
 citizens in military garb, with green cockades, bad 
 
 vol. i. 1
 
 MY LORDS OF ST ROGUE. 
 
 silently clasped one another's hands as they met in 
 the street. There was no need for speech. One 
 thought engrossed every mind ; one common sacri- 
 fice of thanksgiving rolled up to heaven. For 
 Ireland had fought her bloodless fight, had shaken 
 off the yoke of England, and was free — at last ! 
 
 The capital was crowded with armed men and 
 bravely-bedizened darnes. Carriages, gay with em- 
 blazoned panels, blocked up the narrow thorough- 
 fares, darkened to twilight-pitch by the boughs 
 and garlands that festooned the overhanging eaves. 
 Noddies and whiskies and sedans, bedecked wijh 
 wreaths and ribbons, jostled one another into the 
 gutter. Troops of horse, splendidly accoutred — 
 officers mounted upon noble hunters — clattered 
 hither and thither, crushing country folk against 
 mire-stained walls and tattered booths, where 
 victuals were dispensed, without so much as a ' By 
 your leave/ Strangers, arrived but now from across 
 Channel, marvelled at the spectacle, as they marked 
 the signs of widespread luxury — the strange ming- 
 ling of the pomp and circumstance of war with 
 the panoply of peace — the palaces — the gorgeously- 
 attired ladies in semi-martial garb, swinging up and 
 down Dame Street in gilded chairs between the 
 Castle and the Senate House, and back again — 
 dressed, some of them, in broidered uniforms, 
 some in rich satin and brocade. Sure the homely 
 court of Farmer George in London could not com- 
 pare in splendour, or in female beauty either, with 
 that of his Viceroy here.
 
 MIRAGE. 
 
 A stranger could perceive at once that some im- 
 portant ceremony was afoot, for all along the lead- 
 ing streets long galleries had been erected, decorated 
 each with sumptuous hangings, crowded since day- 
 break with a living burthen ; while every window 
 showed its freight of faces, every row of housetops 
 its sea of heads. From the Castle to Trinity 
 College (where a huge green banner waved) the 
 road was lined with troops in brand-new uniforms 
 of every cut and colour — scarlet edged with black, 
 blue lined with buff, white turned up with red, 
 black piped with grey ; while the stately colonnades 
 of the Parliament House over against the College 
 were guarded by the Barristers' Grenadiers, a 
 picked body of stalwart fellows who looked in their 
 tall caps like giants, with muskets slung and bright 
 battle-axes on their shoulders. King William's 
 effigy, emblem of bitter feuds, was in gala attire 
 to-day, as if to suggest that rival creeds were met 
 for once in amity. Newly painted white, the Pro- 
 testant joss towered above the crowd, draped in an 
 orange cloak, crowned with orange lilies ; while 
 his horse was muffled thick with orange scarves and 
 streamers, and wore a huge collar of white ribbons 
 tied about his neck. Placards inscribed with legends 
 in large characters were suspended from the pedestal 
 to remind the cits for what they were rejoicing. 
 1 A Glorious Eevolution V ' A Free Country V One 
 bigger than the rest swung in the breeze, an- 
 nouncing to the few who as yet knew it not, that 
 1 The Volunteers, having overturned a cadaverous 
 
 ]— 2
 
 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 Repeal, will now effectuate a Real Representation of 
 the People !' Yes. That was why Dublin was come 
 out into the streets. The victorious Volunteers had 
 untied the Irish Ixion from a torture-wheel of cen- 
 turies, and, encouraged by their first success, were 
 preparing now to pass a stern judgment on a venal 
 parliament. 
 
 From the period of her annexation to England 
 in the twelfth century, down to the close of the 
 seventeenth, Ireland had been barbarous and rest- 
 less; too feeble and disunited to shake off her 
 shackles, too proud and too exasperated to despair, 
 alternating in dreary sequence between wild exertions 
 of delirious strength and the troubled sleep of ex- 
 hausted fury. But that was over now. The chain 
 was snapped ; and the first vengeance of the sons who 
 had freed her was to be poured on the senate who 
 were pensioners of Britain; who had sold their 
 conscience for a price, their honour for a wage. A 
 grand Convention was to be opened this day at the 
 Rotunda, from which special delegates would be 
 despatched to Lords and Commons, demanding in 
 the name of Ireland an account of a neglected 
 stewardship. No wonder that the populace, dazzled 
 by an unexpected triumph, were come out with joy 
 to seethe sight. Light-hearted, despite their sorrows, 
 the Irish are only too ready to be jubilant. But 
 there were some looking down from out the windows 
 who shook their heads in doubt. The scene was 
 bright, though the November day was overcast — 
 pretty and picturesque, vastly engaging to the eye. So
 
 MIRAGE. 
 
 also is a skull wreathed with flowers, provided that 
 the blossoms are strewn with lavish hand. These 
 croakers were fain to admit that the Volunteers had 
 done wonders. The prestige of victory was theirs. 
 Yet is it a task hedged round with peril — the whole- 
 sale upsetting of powers that be. It was not likely 
 that England would tamely give up her prpy. She 
 was ready to take advantage of a slip. Ireland had 
 cause to be aware of this ; but Ireland thought fib to 
 forget it. A fig for England ! she was a turnip-3pectre 
 illumined by a rushlight. A new era was dawning. 
 Even the schisms of party -bigotry had yielded for 
 a moment to the common weal. Catholics and Pro- 
 testants had exchanged the kiss of Judas ; and 
 Dublin resigned herself to sottish conviviality. 
 
 Hark ! The thunder of artillery. The first pro- 
 cession is on its way. It is that of the Viceroy, 
 who, attended by as many peers as he can muster, 
 will solemnly protest against the new-fledged inso- 
 lence of a domineering soldiery who dare to set their 
 house in order and sweep away the cobwebs. He 
 will make a pompous progress round the promenade 
 of Stephen's Green ; thence by the chief streets and 
 quays to King William's statue, where he will 
 gravely descend from his equipage and bow to the 
 Protestant Juggernaut. This awful ceremony over, 
 he will walk on foot to the House of Lords hard-by, 
 and the holiday-makers will be stricken with re- 
 pentant terror. He has his private suspicions upon 
 this subject though — a secret dread of the mob and of 
 the College lads of Trinity ; for rumour whispers
 
 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 that the wild youths will make a raid on him, and 
 they have an ugly way of running- a-muck with 
 bludgeons and heavy stones sewn in their hanging 
 sleeves. So he has taken his precautions by es- 
 tablishing about the statue a bodyguard — a cordon 
 of trusty troops — whose aggressive band has been 
 braying since daybreak ' Protestant Boys/ ' God 
 save the King/ and ' King William over the 
 water/ 
 
 But the undergraduates are too much occupied at 
 present in struggling for seats within the Commons 
 to trouble about the English Viceroy. For the 
 heads of the Convention are to arrive in state, and 
 Colonel Grattan, it is said, will appear in person to 
 impeach the Assembly of which he is a member. 
 Tbeir gallery is crammed to suffocation. Peers' 
 sons with gold-braided gowns occupy the bench in 
 front, silver-braided baronets crowd in behind. 
 Peeresses too there are in their own place opposite, 
 like a bevy of macaws. A sprinkling only ; for 
 most of the ladies, caring more for show than 
 politics, prefer a window at Daly's club-house 
 next door, where members drop in from time to 
 time by their private passage to gossip a little and 
 taste a dish of tea, while their wives enjoy the 
 humours of the crowd and ogle the patriot soldiers. 
 
 What is that? A crack of musketry; a feu de 
 jole, which tells that the second procession has 
 started ; that my lord of Derry is on his way to the 
 Eotunda. And what a grand Bashaw he is, this 
 Earl of Bristol and Bishop of Derry, who, more
 
 MIRAGE. 
 
 Irish than the Irish, has thrown himself heart and 
 soul into their cause ! There is little doubt of his 
 popularity, for yells rend the air as he goes by, and 
 hats are tossed up, and men clamber on his car- 
 riage. It is as much as his outriders can do to 
 force aside the throng. A magnificent Bashaw en- 
 tirely, with a right royal following. A prince of 
 the Church as well as a grandee ; handsome and 
 debonaire ; robed from top to toe in purple silk, with 
 diamond buttons and gold fringe about the sleeves, 
 and monster tassels depending from each wrist. A 
 troop of light cavalry goes before, followed by a 
 bodyguard of parsons — dashing young sparks in 
 cauliflower wigs. Then some five or six coaches 
 wheeze along. Then comes my lord himself in an 
 open landau, bowing to left and right, kissing his 
 finger-tips to the peeresses at Daly's ; and after him 
 more Volunteers on magnificent horses and a com- 
 plete rookery of clergy. He turns the corner of 
 the House of Lords, and in front of its portico in 
 Westmoreland Street cries a halt, to gaze with 
 satisfaction for a moment on the broad straight vista 
 of what now is Sackville Street, which has opened 
 suddenly before him. As far as eye may reach — away 
 to the Kotunda — are two long lines of gallant horse- 
 men in all the nodding bravery of plumes and pennons 
 — a selected squadron of Volunteers which consists 
 wholly of private gentlemen — the pride and flower 
 of the National Army. 
 
 When the cavalcade stops there is a stir among 
 the peeresses, for they cannot see round the corner,
 
 8 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 and are much disgusted by the fact. A clangour of 
 trumpets wakes the echoes of the corridors. My 
 lords have just finished prayers, and, marvelling at 
 the strange flourish, run in a body to the entrance. 
 The Volunteers present arms, the bishop bows his 
 powdered head, while a smile of triumphant vanity 
 curls the corner of his lip, and he gives the order 
 to proceed. The lords stand shamefaced and un- 
 easy while the people hoot at them, and the bishop's 
 procession — with new shouts and acclamations — 
 crawls slowly on its way. 
 
 One of the attendant carriages has detached itself 
 from the line and comes to a stand at Daly's. Its 
 suite divide the mob with blows from their long 
 canes. Two running footmen in amber silk, two 
 pages in hunting-caps and scarlet tunics, twelve 
 mounted liverymen with coronets upon their backs. 
 The coach-door is flung open, and a dissipated 
 person, looking older than his years, emerges thence, 
 and throwing largesse to the crowd, goes languidly 
 upstairs to join the ladies. 
 
 It is my Lord Glandore of Strogue and Ennis- 
 howen, and the party up at the window to which he 
 nods is his family. That tall refined lady of forty 
 or thereabouts who acknowledges by a cold bow his 
 lordship's careless salute is the Countess of Glandore 
 (mark her well, for we shall see much of her). She 
 has a high nose, thin lips, a querulous expression, 
 and a quantity of built-up hair which shows tawny 
 through its powder. She will remind you of 
 Zucchero's portrait of Queen Bess. There is the
 
 MIRAGE. 
 
 same uncompromising mouth, and pinched nostril, 
 colourless face and haughty brow. You will wonder 
 whether she is a bad woman or one who has suffered 
 much ; whether the wealth amid which she lives 
 has hardened her, or whether troubles kept at bay 
 by pride have darkened the daylight in her eyes. 
 Stay ! as your attention is turned to them you will 
 be struck by their haggard weariness. If she is 
 addressed suddenly their pupils dilate with a move- 
 ment of fear. She sighs too at times — a tired sigh 
 like Lady Macbeth's, as though a weight were laid 
 on her too heavy for those aristocratic shoulders to 
 endure. What is it that frets my lady's spirit ? It 
 cannot be my lord's unfaithfulness (though truly 
 he's a sad rake), for this happy pair settled long 
 since to pursue each a solitary road. Neither can 
 it be the carking care of money troubles, such as 
 afflict so many Irish nobles, for all the world knows 
 that my Lord Glandore — the Pirate Earl, as he is 
 called — is immensely wealthy, possessing a hoary 
 old abbey which has dipped its feet in Dublin Bay 
 for ages, and vast estates in Derry and Donegal, 
 away in the far north. 
 
 Why the Pirate Earl ? Because both his houses 
 are on the sea ; because his claret, which is of the 
 best and poured forth like water, is brought in his 
 own yacht from the Isle of Man, without troubling 
 the excise ; because the founder of the family — Sir 
 Amorey Crosbie, who dislodged the Danes in 1177 
 — was a pirate by calling ; and because the Crosbies 
 of Glandore have dutifully exhibited piratical pro-
 
 io MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 clivities ever since. Nob that the present earl looks 
 like a sea-faring evil-doer, with his sallow effeminate 
 countenance and coquettish uniform. He is a high- 
 bred, highly-polished, devil-may-care, reckless Irish 
 peer, who, at a moment's notice, would pink his 
 enemy in the street, or beat the watch, or bait a 
 bull, or set a main of cocks a-spurring, or wrong a 
 wench, or break his neck over a stone wall from 
 sheer bravado — after the lively fashion of his order 
 at the period. Before he came into the title he was 
 known as fighting Crosbie. The tales told of bis 
 vagaries would set your humdrum modern hair on 
 end — of how he pistolled his whipper-in because he 
 lost a fox, and then set about preparing an islet of 
 his on the Atlantic for a siege ; of how he sent my 
 Lord North a douceur of five thousand pounds as 
 the price of pardon, and reappeared in Dublin as a 
 hero; of how, when the earldom fell to him, he 
 settled down by eloping with Miss Wolfe, or rather 
 by carrying her off vi et armis, as was the amiable 
 habit of young bloods. It was a singular Irish 
 custom, since happily exploded, that of winning a 
 bride by force, as the Sabine maidens were won. 
 Yet it obtained in many parts of Ireland by general 
 consent till the middle of the eighteenth century. 
 Abduction clubs existed whose object was the 
 counteracting of unjust freaks of fortune by tying 
 up heiresses to penniless sparks. Some of the 
 young ladies (notably the two celebrated Misses 
 Kennedy) objected to the process, while most of 
 them found in the prospect of it a pleasing excite-
 
 MIRAGE. ii 
 
 ment. Irish girls have always had a spice of the 
 devil in them. It is not surprising that they should 
 have looked kindly upon men who risked life and 
 liberty for their sweet sakes. 
 
 Lord Glandore followed the prevailing fashion, 
 carried off Miss Wolfe to his wild isle in Donegal, 
 and society said it was well done. She was no 
 heiress, but that too was well, for my lord was rich 
 enough for both. The parson of Letterkenny was 
 summoned to the islet to tie the knot (it was un- 
 modish for persons of quality to be married in a 
 church), and a year later the twain returned to the 
 metropolis, with a baby heir and every prospect of 
 future happiness. But somehow there was a gulf 
 between them. Young, rich, worshipped, they 
 were not happy. My lord went back to his old 
 ways — drinking, hunting, fighting, wenching — my 
 lady moped. Six years later another son was born 
 to them, whose advent, strange to say, instead of 
 being a blessing, was a curse, and divided the ill- 
 assorted pair still further. Each shrined a son as 
 special favourite, my lord taking to his bosom the 
 younger, Terence — whilst my lady doted with a 
 hungry love upon the elder, Shane. My lord, out 
 of perversity maybe, swore that Shane was stupid 
 and viciously inclined, unworthy to inherit the 
 honours of Sir Amorey. My lady, spiteful per- 
 chance through heartache, devoured her darling 
 "with embraces, adored the ground he trod on, 
 kissed in private the baby stockings he had out- 
 grown, the toys he had thrown aside ; and seemed
 
 12 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 to grudge the younger one the very meat which 
 nourished him. This hint given, you can mark 
 how the case stands as my lord enters the upper 
 room at Daly's. Shane, a handsome, delicate youth, 
 far up in his teens, retires nervously behind his 
 mother, whilst Tereuce, a chubby child of twelve, 
 runs forward with a shout to search his father's 
 pocket for good things. What a pity, you think no 
 doubt, for a family to whom fortune has been so 
 generous to be divided in so singular a manner. 
 
 1 What V cries my lord, as, laughing, he tosses the 
 lad into the air. l More comfits ? No, no. They'd 
 ruin thy pretty teeth, to say nothing of thy stomach. 
 Go play with mammy's bayonet. By-and-by thou 
 shalt have sword and pistol of thine own — aye, and 
 a horse to ride — a dozen of them !' And the boy, 
 without fear, obeys the odd behest, for he knows 
 that in his father's presence my lady dares not chide 
 him, albeit she makes no pretence of love. He 
 takes the dainty weapon from its sheath and makes 
 passes at his big brother with it; for my Lady 
 Glandore, like many another patriotic peeress, 
 wears a toy-bayonet at her side, just as she wears 
 the scarlet jacket piped with black of her husband's 
 regiment, the high black stock, and a headdress 
 resembling its helmet. 
 
 Let us survey the remaining members of the 
 family. The little girl, who looks unmoved out of 
 great brown eyes at the glancing weapon's sheen, 
 is first cousin to the boys ; daughter of my lady's 
 brother, honest Arthur Wolfe, who, leaning against
 
 MIRAGE. 13 
 
 the casement, smiles down upon the crowd. He is, 
 folks say, a lawyer of promise, though not gifted. 
 Rumour even whispers that if Fitzgibbon should 
 become lord chancellor, Mr. Wolfe would succeed 
 to the post of attorney-general. Not by reason of 
 his talents, for Arthur, though plodding and 
 upright, can never hope to hold his own at the 
 Irish Bar by his wits. There are too many resin 
 torches about for his horn lantern to make much 
 show. But then you see he is of gentle blood, and 
 influence is of more practical worth than talent. 
 His sister, who loves him fondly, is Countess of 
 Glandore, which fact may be counted unto him as 
 equivalent to much cleverness. He knows that he 
 is not bright, and is honest enough to revere in 
 others the genius which is denied to himself. That 
 is the reason why, not heeding my lord's entrance, 
 he bows eagerly to somebody in the street, and bids 
 his little daughter kiss her hand and nod. 
 
 My lady, to avoid looking at her husband, follows 
 his eyes and exclaims, with a contraction of her 
 brows : 
 
 ' Good heavens, Arthur ! who in the world's your 
 friend ? He looks like a grimy monkey in beggar's 
 rags ! Sure you can't know the scarecrow V 
 
 ' That is one of the cleverest men in Dublin/ 
 returns her brother. ( He'll make a show some 
 day. Even the arrogant Fitzgibbon, before whose 
 eye the Viceroy quails, is afraid of that dirty 
 little man. That is John Philpot Curran, M.P. 
 for Kilbeggan, who has just taken silk. The
 
 i 4 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 staunchest, worthiest, wittiest, ugliest lawyer in all 
 Ireland/ 
 
 ' Curran V echoed my lord with curiosity ; ' I've 
 heard of him. He dared t'other day to flout Fitz- 
 gibbon himself in parliament, and the ceiling didn't 
 crumble. Let's have him up ; he may divert us.' 
 
 But Curran took no heed of Arthur's beckoniug. 
 He knew that his exterior was homely, and more- 
 over liked not the society of lords and ladies. Born 
 of the lower class, he loved them for their sufferings, 
 identified himself with their wrongs, and was wont 
 frequently to say that 'twixt the nobles and the 
 people there was an impassable abyss. Besides, 
 though brave as a lion, he respected his skin some- 
 what, and knew that my lord was as likely as not to 
 prod him with a rapier-point if he ventured on a 
 sally which was beyond his aristocratic comprehen- 
 sion. Turning, therefore, to a young man who was 
 his companion, he whispered : 
 
 1 Let us be off, Theobald. The likes of us are 
 too humble for such company,' and was making 
 good his retreat, when he heard the imperious voice 
 shout out : 
 
 1 Bring him here, I say — some of you — shoeblacks, 
 chairmen, somebody — or by the Hokey ye'll taste 
 of my rascal-thrasher.' 
 
 Then, amused at the conceit of being summoned 
 like a lackey, he shrugged his round shoulders, and 
 saying, f Isn't it wondrous, Theobald, how these 
 spoilt pets of fortune rule us !' turned into Daly's 
 with his comrade, and was ushered up the stairs.
 
 MIRAGE. 1 5 
 
 Mr. Wolfe gave a hand to each of the new-comers, 
 and presented them to his sister. ' Mr. Curran's name 
 is sufficient passport to your favour/ he said, in his 
 gentle way. ' This young man is my godson and 
 protege, also at the bar — Theobald Wolfe Tone/ 
 then added in a whisper, ' son of the coach- maker 
 of whom you have heard me speak. A stout- souled 
 young fellow, if a trifle hotheaded and romantic.'' 
 
 All the peeresses turned from the windows to 
 look at Mr. Curran, whose boldness in asserting 
 popular views was bringing him steadily to the 
 front, while his intimacy with Grattan (the popular 
 hero) caused him to be treated with a respect which 
 his mean aspect hardly warranted. In person he 
 was short, thin, ungraceful. His complexion had 
 the same muddy tinge which distinguished Dean 
 Swift's, and his hair lay in ragged masses of jet 
 black about his square brows, unrestrained by bow 
 or ribbon. His features were coarse and heavy in 
 repose, but when thought illumined his humorous 
 eye there was a sudden gush of mind into his 
 countenance which dilated every fibre with the 
 glow of sacred fire. As a companion he was un- 
 rivalled both as wit and raconteur, which may 
 account for my lord's sudden whim of civility to 
 the low-born advocate ; but there was also a pro- 
 found undercurrent of melancholy (deeper than that 
 which is common to all Irishmen) which seemed to 
 tell prophetically of those terrible nights and days, 
 as yet on the dim horizon of coming years, when he 
 should wrestle hand to hand with Moloch for the
 
 16 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 blood of his victims till sweat would pour down his 
 forehead and his soul would faint with despair. 
 By God's mercy the future is a closed book to us ; 
 and Curran knew not the agony which lay in wait 
 for him, though even now he was suspicious of the 
 joy that intoxicated Dublin. 
 
 ' Well, gentlemen/ remarked his lordship, ami- 
 ably; 'this is a glorious day for Ireland, is it 
 not ? Her sons have united. She stands redeemed 
 and disenthralled. The work is nearly finished. 
 Thanks to Mr. Grattan and the Bishop of Derry, 
 we are once more a nation. I vow it is a pretty 
 sight/ 
 
 ( How long will it last ?' asked Curran, with a 
 dubious headshake. * That gorgeous bishop is a 
 charlatan, I fear. We're only a ladder in his hand, 
 to be kicked over by-and-by. All this is hollow, 
 for in the hubbub the real danger is forgotten/ 
 
 'To unwind a wrong knit up through many 
 centuries is no easy matter/ assented Arthur Wolfe. 
 
 ' It's done with, and there's an end of it/ decided 
 his lordship, who was not good at argument. ' If 
 the parliament submits with grace to the new 
 regime, then we shall have all we want.' 
 
 ' There's the Penal Code still/ returned Curran, 
 shaking his head, while Theobald, his young com- 
 panion, sighed. ' Four-fifths of the nation remains 
 in slavery. The accursed Penal Code stands yet, 
 with menace at the cradle of the Catholic, with 
 threats at his bridal bed, with triumph beside his 
 coffin. I can hardly expect your lordship to join in
 
 MIRAGE. i 7 
 
 my indignation, for you are a member of the Pro- 
 testant Englishry, and as such look with contempt 
 on such as we. The relation of the victorious 
 minority to the vanquished majority remains as 
 disgracefully the same as ever. It is that of the 
 first William's followers to the Saxon churls, of the 
 cohorts of Cortes to the Indians of Peru. Depend 
 upon it, that till the Catholics are emancipated from 
 their serfdom there can be no real peace for Ireland/ 
 
 Theobald, whom his godfather had charged with 
 a tendency to romance, here blurted out with the 
 self-sufficiency of youth, ' United ! of course not. 
 How can a work stand which will benefit the few and 
 not the many ? This movement is for a faction, 
 not for a people. Look at that statue there, with 
 the idiots marching round it ! It is the pccepted 
 symbol of a persecution as vile as any that dis- 
 graced the Inquisition ! I'd like to drag it down. 
 It's a Juggernaut that has crushed our spirit out. 
 The Yolunteers have set us free, have they ? Yet 
 no Catholic may carry arms, no Catholic may hold a 
 post more important than that of village rat-catcher ; 
 no Catholic may publicly receive the first rudiments 
 of education. If he knows how to read he has 
 picked up his learning under a hedge, in fear and 
 trembling ; he's on the level of the beast ; yet has 
 he a soul as we have, and is, besides, the original 
 possessor of the soil V 
 
 The young man (pale-faced he was, and slight of 
 build) stopped abruptly and turned red, for my lady's 
 look was fixed on him with undisguised displeasure. 
 
 vol. i. 2
 
 1 8 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 ' I beg pardon/ he stammered, ' but I feel 
 strongly ' 
 
 ' Are you a Roman Catholic V she asked. 
 
 f No,' replied her brother for him, as he patted 
 the scapegrace on the shoulder. ' But he is bitten 
 with a mania to become a champion of the op- 
 pressed. He has written burning pamphlets, which, 
 though I cannot quite approve of them, I am bound 
 to confess have merit/ 
 
 ' That have they V said Curran, warmly. ' The 
 enthusiasm's there, and the cause is good. But if 
 a man would sleep on roses he had best leave it 
 alone, for anguish will be the certain portion of 
 him who'd fight the Penal Code. Modern patriotism 
 consists too much of eating and drinking and fine 
 clothes to be of real worth/ 
 
 f I believe you are too convivially disposed to 
 object to a good dinner !' laughed Lord Glandore. 
 ' There's a power of cant in these patriotic views. 
 As regards us Englishry, the inferiority of our num- 
 bers is more than compensated by commanding 
 vigour and organisation. It's a law of nature that 
 a weak vessel should give way before a strong 
 one. History tells us that our ancestors, the English 
 colonists, sturdy to begin with, were compelled by 
 their position to cultivate energy and perseverance, 
 while the aborigines never worked till they felt the 
 pangs of hunger, and were content to lie down in the 
 straw beside their cattle. The Catholics are the 
 helot class. Let them prove themselves worthy of 
 consideration if they can.'
 
 MIRAGE. 19 
 
 ' The Irish Catholics of ability/ returned the 
 neophyte, 'are at Versailles or Ildefonso, driven 
 from here long since.' 
 
 1 False reasoning, my lord/ said doughty Curran. 
 1 The (C Englishry," as you call them, are the ser- 
 vants of England. Their interests are the same, 
 "because England pays them well. How can a 
 nation's limbs obey her will if it is weighed to the 
 earth by gyves ? First knock off the irons, then 
 bid her stand upon her feet. As the boy says, folks 
 are too fond of prancing round that statue. I don't 
 myself see a way out of the darkness. Why should 
 it not be given to him, and such as he, to lead us 
 from the labyrinth V 
 
 My lord wished he had not summoned these low 
 persons. Before he could reply the young man said 
 sadly : 
 
 t What can a lawyer do but prose V 
 
 And Arthur Wolfe, perceiving a storm brewing, 
 cried out with nervous merriment : 
 
 ■ What ! harping on the old string, Theobald ? 
 Still pining for a military frock and helmet ? Boy, 
 boy ! Look at the pageant that is spread before 
 our eyes. The triumph of this day is due to its 
 bloodlessness. This grand array would not disgrace 
 its cloth, Fm sure, in the battle ; but happily success 
 has been achieved by moral force alone. Right is 
 might with the Volunteers. May their swords never 
 leave their scabbards V 
 
 c You cannot deny/ persisted the froward youth, 
 ' that yonder battalions would be a grander sight if 
 
 2—2
 
 20 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 they really represented the nation without regard 
 to creed — if, for example, every other man among 
 them was a Catholic V 
 
 My lord looked cross, my lady black as thunder, 
 so Wolfe, the peacemaker, struck in again as he 
 twisted his fingers in his little daughter's curls. 
 
 ' I agree that it is monstrous/ he said, with hesi- 
 tation, ' that three million men with souls should be 
 plough-horses for conscience' sake. In these days 
 it's a scandal. Sister, you must admit that. Per- 
 haps we are entering on a better time. A reformed 
 parliament, if you can get it, will no doubt emanci- 
 pate the Catholics. You are a hare-brained lad, my 
 godson ; but here is a Catholic little girl who shall 
 thank you. Doreen, my treasure, you may shake 
 hands with Theobald.' 
 
 My lord waxed peevish, and drummed his fingers 
 on the shutters and yawned in the face of Curran, 
 for he sniffed in the wind a quarrel which would 
 bore him. If folks would only refrain, he thought, 
 from gabbling about these Catholics, what a comfort 
 it would be. My lady, usually disagreeable, was 
 threatening a scene ; for they had got on the one 
 subject which set all the family agog. Her spouse 
 wished heartily that- she would retire to the family 
 vault, or be less ill-tempered; for what can be- 
 more odious than a snappish better-half ? 
 
 Religious differences had set the country by the 
 ears ever since the Reformation, turning father 
 against son, kinsman against kinsman; and this 
 especial family was no exception to the rule. Lady
 
 MIRAGE. 21 
 
 Glandore hated the Papists with all the energy of 
 one whose soul is filled with gall, and who lacks 
 a fitting outlet for its bitterness. What must then 
 have been her feelings when, ten years before the 
 opening of this chronicle, her only brother, whom 
 she loved, thought fit to wed a Catholic ? It was a 
 weak, faded chit of a thing who lived for a year 
 after her marriage in terror of my lady, gave birth to 
 a daughter and then died. The countess, who had 
 endured her existence under protest, was glad at 
 least that she was well behaved enough to die; 
 some people said indeed that she had frightened 
 Arthur's submissive wife into her untimely grave. 
 Be this as it may, the incubus removed, my lady 
 girded up her loins for the effacing of the blot on 
 the escutcheon. The puling slut was gone — that 
 was a mercy. Why had she not proved barren ? 
 There was still a way of setting matters straight. 
 Little Doreen must be washed clean from Papist 
 mummeries, and received into the bosom of the 
 Church, and the world would forget in course of 
 time how the young lawyer, usually as soft as wax, 
 had flown in the face of his belongings. To . her 
 horror and amazement Arthur for once proved 
 adamant— he who had always given way rather 
 than break a lance in the lists — sternly commanding 
 his sister to hold her tongue. His Papist wife, 
 whom he regretted sorely, had exacted a promise 
 on her deathbed that Doreen should be brought 
 up in her mother's faith, and a Papist Doreen 
 should be, he swore, at least till she arrived at an
 
 22 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 age to settle the question for herself. He would be 
 glad though, he continued, seeing with pain how 
 shocked my lady looked, if in her sisterly affection 
 she would lay prejudice aside and help to rear the 
 child; for the sharpest of men, as all the world 
 knows, is no better than a fool in dealing with babies. 
 And so it befell that the Countess of Glandore, the 
 haughty chatelaine who scoffed at ' mummeries ' 
 and worshipped King William as champion of the 
 Faith, nourished a scorpion in her bosom for Arthur's 
 sake, and permitted the little scarlet lady to consort 
 with her own lads. My lady's hatred of the national 
 creed had a more bitter cause even than class pre- 
 judice. She had a private and absorbing reason 
 for it, more feminine than theological. That reason 
 was — a woman, and a rival — a certain Madam 
 Gillin, widow of a small shopkeeper, with whom 
 the rakish earl chose to be too familiar. Vainly she 
 had swallowed her pride to the extent of begging 
 him to respect his wife in public. He had called 
 her names, bidding her mind her distaff ; then had 
 carried in mischief the story to his love, who set 
 herself straightway to be revenged upon my lady. 
 
 { The sfcuck-up bit of buckram's a half-caste at 
 the best V she had exclaimed. ( She forgets that a 
 Cromwellian trooper was her ancestor, whilst I can 
 trace my lineage from a race of kings. The blood 
 of Ollam Fodlah's in my veins. My forefathers were 
 reigning princes before Anno Domini was thought 
 of, and received baptism at the hands of St. Columba 
 before Erin was a land of bondage. It is seldom
 
 MIRAGE. 23 
 
 that one of my faith can bring sorrow on one of 
 hers ; and, please the pigs, I'll not miss my oppor- 
 tunity/ 
 
 And indeed Madam Gillin showed all a woman's 
 ingenuity in torturing* another. She dragged my 
 lord, who was nothing loth, at her kirtle strings, all 
 through Dublin ; paraded him everywhere as her own 
 chattel ; kept him dangling by her side at ridottos 
 and masquerades, till my lady, whose mainspring 
 was pride, dared not to show her face at Smock 
 Alley or Fishamble Street, or even on the public 
 drive of Stephen's Green, for fear of being insulted 
 by this Popish hussy. She strove to find comfort 
 in her family, as many an outraged woman does, but 
 that was worse than all ; for she looked with groan- 
 ing on her eldest born, whom his father could not 
 endure, then at that rosy, chubby younger one, and 
 loathed him. Truly the life of the Countess of 
 Glandore was as bran in the mouth to her, despite 
 the wealth of my lord, his great position, and his 
 influence. No wonder if there was an expression of 
 settled weariness about those handsome eyes and 
 peevish lines about her jaded mouth. 
 
 My lord drummed his white fingers impatiently — 
 the dry- skinned fingers that mark the libertine — be- 
 cause of all things he hated being bored, and knew 
 that religious discussions would bring reproaches 
 anent Gillin. It was with relief that he beheld a gay 
 coach half- filled with flowers, swaying in the crowd 
 below, which contained the graces en titre of Dublin, 
 Darkey Kelly, Peg Plunkett, and Maria Llewellyn
 
 24 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 — over-painted, over-feathered, over-dressed, like 
 a parterre of full-blown peonies. Their appari- 
 tion caused a diversion at the windows. All the 
 peeresses stared stonily through gold-rimmed 
 glasses as the trio passed with the calm imperti- 
 nence of high-born fine ladies, for it stirreth the 
 curiosity of the most blas4e Ariadne to mark what 
 manner of female it is who hath robbed her of her 
 Theseus. My lord roared with laughter to see the 
 sorry fashion in which the houris bore the ordeal, 
 vowing 'fore Gad that he must go help them with 
 his countenance ; for there is naught so discomfit- 
 ing to a fair one who is frail as a public display of 
 contempt from one who is not. Out he sallied, 
 therefore, drawing his sword as a hint for the scum 
 to clear a passage; but, ere he could reach the 
 Graces, they were borne away by the stream, and 
 their coach had made way for a noddy, in which sat 
 a comely woman, with bright mouse-like eyes, and 
 a complexion of milk and roses. When the new- 
 comer observed my lord buffeting in her direction, her 
 lips parted in a gratified smile, and she cast a glance 
 of triumph at the club-house ; for she knew that at 
 a window there a certain high nose might be dis- 
 cerned, which set her teeth on edge — set in a white 
 scornful face, whose aspect made her blood to boil. 
 
 ' That woman again V my lady was heard to mur- 
 mur, as she abruptly quitted her place. ' The 
 globe's not large enough for her and me. I hate 
 the baggage V 
 
 Mr. Curran, who, if untidy and unkempt, was a
 
 MIRAGE. 25 
 
 man of the world and shrewd withal, tried a little 
 joke by way of clearing the sulphur from, the 
 atmosphere ; but it fell quite flat, and he looked 
 round with a wistful air of apology as a dog does 
 that has wagged his tail inopportunely. 
 
 ' Let's be off, Theobald/ he suggested. ' What- 
 ever can the Volunteers be doing? Why does 
 their return procession tarry ? They should be 
 here by this, for 'tis past three. Ah, here's Fitz- 
 gibbon, the high and mighty Lucifer, who'd wipe 
 his shoes upon us if he dared. Maybe he brings 
 us news.' 
 
 Instinctively everybody made way for Fitzgibbon, 
 the brilliant statesman who already swept all before 
 him. Even his enemies admitted his ability, whilst 
 deploring his flagrant errors. In his fitful nature 
 good and evil were ever struggling for the mastery. 
 W T as he destined to achieve perennial fame, or 
 doomed to eternal obloquy ? Liberal, hospitable, 
 munificent, he was ; but unscrupulous to boot, and 
 arrogant and domineering. A man who must be- 
 come a prodigious success, or an awful ruin. For 
 him was no middle path. Which was it to be ? 
 Opinion was divided ; but as at present his star was 
 in the ascendant, his foes were outnumbered by his 
 friends. 
 
 This man who aspired to be chancellor, and as 
 such to direct the Privy Council, was dark, of 
 middle height, with a sharp hatchet face and 
 oblique cast of eye. No one could be pleasanter 
 or more flashy than Fitzgibbon if he chose, for he
 
 26 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 united the manners of a grand seigneur with some 
 culture, and could keep his temper under admirable 
 control. But he preferred always to browbeat 
 rather than conciliate, though he was a master of 
 diplomacy, if such became worth his while. On the 
 present occasion he strode hastily into the room as 
 though Daly's was his private property, and, with a 
 polished obeisance to the peeresses, flourished a 
 perfumed kerchief. 
 
 1 It's all over for the present/ he cried, with a 
 harsh chuckle. ( The fatuous fools have postponed 
 their grand coup till to-morrow, not perceiving that 
 dissension is already at work among them. Oh, 
 these Irish ! They are only fit to burrow in holes 
 and dig roots out of the earth. There is no keeping 
 them in unison for two consecutive minutes. The 
 sooner England swallows them the better, the silly 
 donkeys !' 
 
 ' I believe your honour is an Irishman V asked 
 Curran, dryly. 
 
 1 Bedlamites, one and all, who crave for the im- 
 possible. Fve no patience with them/ Here Mr. 
 Fitzgibbon helped himself to a pinch from my lady's 
 snuffbox. 
 
 • Bedad, ye're right/ sneered Curran. ' We're 
 absurd to pretend to a heart and ventricles all to 
 ourselves. We should be grateful — mere Irish — to* 
 be by favour the Great Toe of an empire !' 
 
 ' England has always betrayed us !' cried out 
 young Tone, the neophyte. ' Knowing we're hungry, 
 she throws poisoned bones to us. The only way to
 
 MIRAGE. 27 
 
 set right our parliament will be to break with 
 England altogether V 
 
 The bold sentiment set all the peeresses tittering. 
 They cackled of freedom, and were bedizened in 
 smart uniforms ; yet were there few of these noble 
 ladies whose hearts were really with the new crusade. 
 It was vastly diverting to hear this David attacking 
 the great Goliath. They settled their skirts to see 
 fair play; but Fitzgibbon for once was ungallant. 
 
 ' Your godson, isn't it, Wolfe V he remarked 
 carelessly. ' Send for the child's nurse that he 
 may be put to bed.' 
 
 He could not sweep Curran aside in this mag- 
 nificent fashion, so he elected to be unaware of his 
 presence. He disliked the little advocate because 
 he feared him. Yes, the would-be aristocrat was 
 mortally afraid of the plebeian — a privilege which 
 he accorded to few men on earth. The two had 
 risen at the Bar side by side, till the influence which 
 Fitzgibbon could command gave him an advantage 
 which his undoubted talent enabled him to keep. 
 With sure and steady progress he forced himself 
 above his fellows, and won the adulation which 
 accompanies success. It was his crumpled roseleaf 
 that Curran should be keen enough to gauge his 
 real value ; that he should despise him as a mounte- 
 bank, that he should read within his heart that 
 personal ambition was his motive- spring, not love 
 of country. As it happened, Curran was a master of 
 invective, and no niggard of his shafts ; so Fitz- 
 gibbon tried flattery, and got jeered at for his
 
 28 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 pains, which produced a [hurricane of sarcasm. 
 It was with rage that he accepted at last a fact. If 
 there was one person who could stop his soaring 
 Pegasus in full career, that man was common-look- 
 ing Curran. So the arrogant candidate for honours 
 marked out his enemy as one who must be watched, 
 and if possible circumvented; and the more he 
 watched the more he detested that odious little 
 creature. 
 
 He did not choose therefore to take umbrage at 
 his taunts ; but, mindful of the adage that to be an- 
 hungered is to be cross, announced that a collation 
 awaited the pleasure of their ladyships. Now 
 patriotism is one thing, and fine clothes another ; 
 but there are times when cold beef will bear the 
 palm from either. So was it on this occasion. The 
 peeresses rose up with unromantic unanimity at the 
 mere mention of cold beef, seizing each the arm of 
 the nearest geutleman ; and so Curran and his 
 young friend, being unable to escape, found them- 
 selves standing presently before a well-furnished 
 board, hemmed in on either side by a lady of high 
 rank. 
 
 The showy Fitzgibbon was master of the situa- 
 ation, for Curran was not a lady's man, and the 
 neophyte in such noble company was sheepish. His 
 harsh voice rose unchallenged in polished periods 
 as he explained between two mouthfuls the mess 
 the Volunteers were making. Curran smiled at his 
 imprudence ; for was he not flinging dirt at the 
 popular idol — that glittering national army which
 
 MIRAGE. 
 
 29 
 
 had worked such miracles; whose many- coloured 
 uniforms sparkled in every street, on the very backs 
 of the dainty dames who looked up at him sur- 
 prised ? 
 
 1 No good will come of it/ cried the contemptuous 
 great man, as he waved a silver tankard. ' They 
 are acting illegally; are pausing before they dare 
 to overthrow constitutional authority, as the regi- 
 cides did before they chopped off Charles's head. 
 A little ham, my lady ? No ? Do, to please me. Will 
 you, my dear Curran ? Just a little skelp ? Pray 
 do, for you look as if you'd eat me raw ; and that 
 young man too. I vow he is a cannibal. What was 
 I saying ? He who vilifies those who are in power 
 is sure of an audience, you know. Positively, this 
 regeneration scheme is laughable, quite laughable !* 
 
 1 Stop your friend/ said some one to Curran, e or 
 there'll be swords drawn before the ladies/ to 
 which the other answered, ' Friend ! No friend of 
 mine, or indeed of any one except himself, the 
 maniac incendiary ! Ask Arthur Wolfe. Perhaps 
 he will interfere.' 
 
 But Fitzgibbon was not acting without a purpose. 
 He ate his ham with studied nonchalance, shaking 
 back his ruffles with unrivalled grace ; and he at 
 least was sorry when an unexpected circumstance 
 occurred which withdrew the attention of his audi- 
 ence from himself and his insidious talk. 
 
 There was a mighty noise without which shook 
 the windows. The undergraduates, hearing that 
 the battle was postponed, poured forth from their
 
 30 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 gallery in the Commons with the fury of a pent-up 
 river suddenly let loose. They had wasted their 
 time and energies. Their lithe young limbs were 
 cramped. Something must be done to set the 
 blood dancing through their veins again. What 
 did they behold as they dashed out into the street ? 
 Peg Plunkett and her companions flirting with 
 soldiers — not Volunteers, but actually English 
 soldiers, members of the Viceroy's bodyguard. It 
 must never be said that Irish Phrynes gave their 
 favours to English soldiers — at such a time too ! 
 Fie on them for graceless harlots ! Their feathers 
 should be plucked out — they should be ducked — 
 the English Lotharios should be well drubbed — 
 driven back to the Castle with contumely and 
 bloody noses. Hurrah ! Pack a stone in the sleeve 
 and have at them, the spalpeens ! It was well for 
 the Viceroy that he went home when he did, with- 
 out strutting, as he proposed to do, once more round 
 Juggernaut; or he would certainly have been 
 assaulted by the mischievous collegians, and a 
 serious riot would have been the consequence. But 
 Darkey Kelly and Maria Llewellyn ! Pooh ! it 
 served them right, and no one pitied them. At all 
 events, the peeresses (mothers of the lads) said so, 
 as they leisurely returned to the discussion of cold 
 beef and politics. They were too well broken to 
 street brawls to care much about a stampede of 
 college youths. But that Fitzgibbon should pre- 
 sume to attack the national army was too bad, and 
 touched them home. None of them dared admit that
 
 MIRAGE. 
 
 3i 
 
 English gold was more precious than national free- 
 dom . There are secrets that for very shame we would 
 go any lengths rather than divulge. These ladies 
 made believe to be terribly shocked — threatened 
 to assail the adventurous wight like bewitching 
 Amazons ; but he knew them too well to be alarmed. 
 If Curran could read him, he could read the peer- 
 esses ; and neither subject was an edifying one for 
 investigation.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 RETROSPECT. 
 
 HE brief career of the Volunteer army- 
 stands as a unique example for students 
 of history to marvel at. Urged by a 
 strange series of events, Ireland, like 
 Cinderella, rose up from her dustheap, and was clad 
 by a fairy in gorgeous garments. All at once she 
 flung aside her mop, and demanded to be raised 
 from the three-legged stool in the scullery to the 
 dais whereon her wicked sister sat. And the wicked 
 sister, being at the time sorely put about through 
 her own misconduct, embraced her drudge with 
 effusion on each cheek, instead of belabouring her 
 with a broom, as had been her pleasant way, vowing 
 that the straw pallet and short commons of a life- 
 time were all a mistake, and that nought but samite 
 and diamonds of the first water were good enough 
 for the sweet girl. She killed the fatted calf, and 
 drew a fine robe out of lavender, and grinned as many
 
 RETROSPECT. 33 
 
 a spiteful woman will whom rage is consuming in- 
 wardly, registering at tlie same time a secret oath 
 to drub the saucy minx when occasion should serve 
 — a not uncommon practice among ladies. 
 
 Events followed one another in this wise. France, 
 natural enemy of England, had suffered sore tribu- 
 lation at the hands of my Lord Chatham, who 
 routed her armies and sunk her ships, and filled his 
 prisons with the flower of her youth. But my Lord 
 Chatham's mighty spirit succumbed to chronic 
 gout ; an incompetent minister took his place, whose 
 folly lashed the young colonies of America to re- 
 bellion, and France saw with joy such a blow struck 
 across the face of her too prosperous rival as brought 
 her reeling to her knees. This was the moment for 
 reprisals. France breathed again. Quick ! she 
 said, a deft scheme of revenge ! How shall we 
 find out the weakest point ? We will invade Ire- 
 land which is defenceless, and so establish a raw in 
 the very flank of our enemy. But Ireland had no 
 idea of tamely submitting to a hostile French occu- 
 pation. Unhappily for her, she was never completely 
 conquered, and was ever over-fond of nourishing 
 wild hopes of independence — of formal recognition 
 as a nation among nations. To become a slave to 
 France would be no improvement upon her present 
 slavery, and she had already been a subject of conflict 
 for centuries. She cried out therefore to the wicked 
 sister, ' Save me from invasion. Send me men to 
 garrison my fortresses; ships to protect my harbours/ 
 But England turned a deaf ear, being herself in a 
 
 vol. 1. 3
 
 34 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 dire strait ; bandaging her own limbs, nursing her 
 own wounds. f Then/ said Cinderella, c give me 
 arms at least. I come of a good fighting stock, 
 and will even make shift in the emergency to defend 
 myself/ Here were the horns of a dilemma. Un- 
 armed and undefended, Ireland would of a surety 
 fall an easy prey to France, which would be a 
 serious mishap indeed. On the other hand, delibe- 
 rately to place a weapon in the grasp of a young 
 sister whom we have wronged and hectored all her 
 life, and who ominously reminds us that though 
 slavery has curbed her spirit she comes of a good 
 fighting stock, is surely rash. Forgiveness of in- 
 juries savours too much of heaven for mere 
 daughters of earth, and it is more than probable 
 that, having repulsed the invader, this child of war- 
 like sires will seize the opportunity to smite us 
 under our own fifth rib. However, there was 
 nothing for it but to risk that danger ; so England 
 sent over with a good grace a quantity of arms, and 
 secretly vowed to whip the naughty jade on a later 
 day for having been the innocent cause of the diffi- 
 culty. 
 
 That which Britain feared took place. For six 
 hundred years she had persistently been sowing 
 dragons* teeth in the Isle of Saints, and persever- 
 ingly watering them with blood ; and lo, in a night, 
 they rose up armed men — a threatening host of 
 warriors, who with one voice demanded their just 
 rights, unjustly withheld so long. England bit her 
 lips, and parleyed. She felt herself the laughing-
 
 RETROSPECT. 35 
 
 stock of Europe, and her humiliation was rendered 
 doubly acute by the dignified bearing of the new- 
 born battalions. They did not bully ; they did not 
 revile. They calmly claimed their own, with the 
 least little click of a well-polished firelock, the 
 slightest flutter of a green silk banner. ' To suit 
 your own selfish ends/ they declared, l you have 
 robbed us of our trade and suborned our legislature. 
 Give us back our trade ; permit us to reform our 
 senate. You have stripped us of our commerce 
 piecemeal. Return it, to the last shred. In the 
 days of the first Tudor, when you were strong and 
 we were weak, a decree of Sir E. Poyning's became 
 law, whereby we were to be ruled henceforth from 
 distant London. The operation of all English 
 statutes was to extend to Ireland; the previous 
 consent of an English Council was necessary to 
 render legal acts passed at home. By the 6th of 
 George III. this was made absolute ; the Irish senate 
 was decreed to be a chapel of ease to that of West- 
 minster. When we were weak our gyves were 
 riveted tightly upon our legs. Now our conditions 
 are reversed; yet claim we nothing* but our own. 
 Bring forth the anvil and the hammer. Strike off 
 with your own hand these fetters, for we will wear 
 no bonds but those of equal fellowship. Give us a 
 free constitution and free trade, and let bygones be 
 bygones/ 
 
 Attentive Europe admired the position of Ireland 
 at this moment. A change was creeping across the 
 world of which this situation was a natural result. 
 
 3—2
 
 36 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 A cloud, like a man's hand, Lad arisen on the 
 horizon of America, which in time was to overshadow 
 the globe. A warlike fever possessed the Irish 
 people. They became imbued with an all-engross- 
 ing fervour, an epidemic of patriotism. The im- 
 portant question was, could they keep it up ? Irish 
 veterans, who had fought under Washington, re- 
 turned home invalided, to thrill their audience by 
 the peat fire with tales that sounded like fairy lore 
 of Liberty and Fraternity and Freedom of Con- 
 science ; to whisper that their country was a nation, 
 not a shire ; that an end must be put to bigotry, 
 that accursed twin-sister of religion; that if the 
 King of England wished to rule the Isle of Saints, 
 he must do so henceforth by right of his Irish, not 
 his English, crown, governing each kingdom by 
 distinct laws according to its case. 
 
 High and low were stricken with the new enthu- 
 siasm ; some generously, some driven by shame to 
 assume a virtue which they had not. Laird, squire, 
 and shopkeeper — all donned the Volunteer uniform. 
 All looked, or affected to look, to the eagle of 
 America as a symbol of a new hope. A race of 
 serfs were transformed into a nation of soldiers. 
 Many really thought themselves sincere who fell 
 away when their own interests became involved. 
 
 And this sudden upheaving was at first without 
 danger to the body politic. The French Revolution, 
 with its overturning of social grades, had yet to 
 come. Classes found themselves for a brief space 
 thrown together, between whom usually a great gulf
 
 RETROSPECT. 37 
 
 was fixed, and the temporary commingling was, by 
 giving a new direction to the mind, for the mutual 
 benefit of both. The very singularity of such a 
 state of things (in an age before democratic prin- 
 ciples began to obtain) showed a seriousness of 
 purpose which caused the ruling spirits of the new 
 military association to carry all before them by the 
 impetus of self-respect. Their mother had suffered 
 bitterlv and long • no one denied that. The time 
 was come for her rescue. The task was arduous, 
 but the cause was excellent. It behoved her sons 
 then to raise their minds above the trammels of the 
 earth — to become Sir Galahads — for was not their 
 task to the full as pious as the mystic quest after 
 the Grail ? It behoved them, while the holy fervour 
 lasted (alas ! man is unstable at the best, and the 
 Irishman more so than most), to set their house 
 thoroughly in order, and the powerless English 
 Cabinet from across the Channel watched the opera- 
 tion with anxiety. 
 
 When a wedge is inserted in so unnatural a bundle 
 as this was, it will speedily fall asunder, and that 
 which was a formidable coalition will be reduced 
 to a ridiculous wreck. Who was to insert the 
 wedge ? Would time alone do it, or would per- 
 fidious aid from London be required ? That it 
 should be inserted somehow, was decided nem. con, 
 in London. 
 
 Alas ! in the moment of supreme triumph, whilst 
 the Volunteers caracole so bravely down Sackville 
 Street, we may detect grave symptoms of danger,
 
 38 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 which argus-eyed England scans with hope, while 
 the Viceroy is laughing in the Castle. 
 
 Ireland had during ages been the butt of fortune. 
 A train of English kings had entreated her evilly, 
 and the native bards reviewed the sad story with 
 untiring zeal. 
 
 First they sang of Norman thieves — turbulent 
 barons who, troublesome at home, were despatched 
 to get rid of superfluous energy at the expense of 
 Keltic princes. They slurred over the reign of the 
 first Edward, for with him came a deceptive ray of 
 hope. He threatened to visit Ihe island in person. 
 Had he done so, he would have quelled the Irish 
 thoroughly, as he did the Welsh, and so have nipped 
 their delusive dream of freedom in the bud. The 
 most aristocratic race in the world would have become 
 loyal, for they would have seen the face of their lord, 
 and the face of royalty is as a sun unto them. But 
 they did not become loyal, for they saw their lord's 
 face as little then as they see that of their lady now. 
 Nor he, nor any of the brave Plantagenets ever 
 came to Ireland, for they were pursuing an ignis 
 fatuus in France, instead of attending to their own 
 business at home. Henry V. and Edward III. 
 sought fame, which might not be obtained, they 
 thought, by obscure squabbling with saffron- mantled 
 savages in a barbarous dependency. 
 
 Events shuffled along in slipshod, careless fashion, 
 till the period when crook-backed Richard met his 
 end at Bosworth. By that time a mixed population 
 held undisputed possession of the island — a bastard
 
 RETROSPECT. 39 
 
 race, half Keltic, half Norman. The ' English o£ 
 the Pale/ or early settlers, had found Irish brides. 
 They wore the saffron mantle and spoke the Keltish 
 tongue. But the first Tudor, who had no sympathy 
 with savages, declared ( this might not be/ He had 
 a spite against them which he was but too glad to 
 gratify, for in the absence of a king they had crowned 
 an ape — or rather an impostor, Simnel. In virtuous 
 indignation, he vowed that it was revolting to see 
 noble knights reduced to the serfs' level ; to which 
 the chiefs replied with one accord : 
 
 f We are no serfs, but freemen, as ye are your- 
 selves ; for Ireland was never conquered, though she 
 did lip-homage/ 
 
 The Tudor did not choose to be so bearded. 
 * Indeed ! You were not conquered V he said, sur- 
 prised. ( I will send commissioners who shall 
 straightway solve for me this riddle.' And he sent 
 Sir Edward Poynings, who arrived in state, with 
 special instructions to set the chiefs a- quarrel- 
 ling. 
 
 The guileless princes received the commissioner 
 cordially, who diligently sowed dissensions, setting 
 race against race, by declaring (in 1494) that none 
 of English blood might wed a Keltic wife, or hold 
 •communion with the Irishry, or even learn their 
 tongue. O'Neil was pitted against Geraldine, 
 Desmond against Tyrone, with double-faced advice ; 
 and, his dastardly commission done, Sir Edward 
 bowed himself away with smiles, leaving behind the 
 celebrated act which bears his name, and which was
 
 40 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 as a red rag between the nations ever after, till it 
 was taken in hand by the Volunteers. 
 
 Up to this moment the frequent bickerings which 
 disturbed the fellowship of the two islands were 
 concerning land or race ; but with the reign of the 
 eighth Henry, the true demon of discord woke to 
 wave the sword of persecution over the distracted 
 country. The Reformation, which brought so much 
 trouble on the world, was no kinder to the Irish than 
 to other nations. Henry, angry with a people who 
 would not do as they were bid, drove the natives 
 from the holdings which their septs had held for 
 centuries, away to the wild fastness beyond the 
 Shannon. (A sinful scheme, which is often fathered 
 upon Cromwell, who has much besides to answer 
 for.) He ravaged the land with fire and sword, re- 
 solved at least that it should have the peace of death 
 if none other was attainable ; and these tactics his 
 dutiful child Elizabeth pursued, till her dependency 
 was a waste of blood and ashes. Like her grand- 
 father, she had a private cause for spite. As a 
 nation, the Irish declined to be anything but Catho- 
 lics ; and so, refusing to acknowledge Queen 
 Katherine's divorce, they looked on Anne Boleyn's 
 daughter as a bastard and a usurper. This prompted 
 her to filial piety. Hardly was she seated on the 
 throne at Westminster, than she summoned a parlia- 
 ment in Dublin, and shook her pet prayer-book at 
 the Catholics. The religion of Christ, the meek and 
 lowly, she preached to them in this wise. Every 
 layman who should use any prayer-book but her pet
 
 RETROSPECT. 41 
 
 one was to be imprisoned for a year. On each re- 
 curring Sunday, every adult of every persuasion was 
 to attend Protestant service, or be heavily mulcted 
 for the benefit of her treasury. Not content with 
 crushing their faith, she let loose a horde of adven- 
 turers upon the unhappy Irish. They fought for 
 their fields as well as their religion. One of the 
 characteristics of her reign was a spirit of adven- 
 ture, which descended in regular gamut from the 
 loftiest heroism to the vilest cupidity. The eagles 
 sought doubloons on the Spanish main ; the vultures 
 swept down on Ireland with ravenous beaks. Eliza- 
 beth's own deputy wrote thus to her in horror : 
 
 1 From every corner of the woods did the people 
 come, creeping on their hands, for their legr would 
 not bear them. They looked like anatomies of death ; 
 they spake like ghosts ; they did eat carrion, happy 
 when they could find them, yea, and one another ; in 
 so much that the very carcases they spared not to 
 scrape out of their graves.' 
 
 Indeed, Queen Bess left her dependency a reeking 
 slaughter-house, in so abject a misery, that when her 
 successor cleared a whole province to plant it with 
 Scotchmen, the natives made no resistance, but 
 plodded listlessly away. Is it surprising that their 
 descendants should have hated England, and its 
 truckling Anglo-Irish Senate ? 
 
 In due course followed Charles L, who, with the 
 ingrained perfidy of all the Stuarts, fleeced his Irish 
 subjects, and then cheated them by evading the 
 graces for which they paid their gold. His creature
 
 42 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 Strafford went too far, and they turned as worms 
 will. There was a grand Protestant massacre in 
 Ulster, an appalling picture of a vengeance such as 
 •a brutalised people will wreak on its oppressor ; and 
 Cromwell took advantage of this as an excuse for 
 still further grinding down the Catholics. It was a 
 fine opportunity to avenge the sufferings of Protest- 
 ants in other lands — the affair of Nantes, Bartholo- 
 mew, and so forth. He made a finished job of it, as 
 he did of most things to which he set his shoulder. 
 It was no felony now to slay an Irishman, whose very 
 name was a reproach. He was well-nigh swept 
 from off the earth. Famine and pestilence reigned 
 "together alone. Wolves roamed at will in the 
 •dismantled towns. Newly-appointed colonists re- 
 fused to build the walls of shattered cities, for 
 the stench of the rotting bodies poisoned the 
 breeze. 
 
 It remained for Orange "William and good Queen 
 Anne (neither of whom could be expected to feel 
 interest in Ireland) to add a finishing touch, and the 
 Peaal Code was a chef d' oeuvre. Under its sweet 
 influence no Catholic could dwell in Ireland save 
 under such conditions as no man who stood erect 
 might bear, and so there commenced an exodus of 
 independent spirits, who flocked into the sprvice of 
 France and Germany, and filled the navies of Holland 
 and of Spain. Thus did British rulers educate their 
 dependency to loving obedience, by teaching its 
 •children to revile the name of law. Verily it is no 
 /wonder that they loathed the English ; that they
 
 RETROSPECT. 43 
 
 distrusted British amenities, and looked askance at 
 the half-English upper class. 
 
 When the Volunteers determined to regenerate 
 their motherland, there were two great evils with 
 which they had to cope. Two deep plague-spots. 
 It remained to be seen whether they were wise 
 enough and steadfast enough to eradicate the virus. 
 A rotten legislature, an impossible Penal Code. 
 €ould Sir Galahad reform so base a parliament ? 
 Would the champion dare to free the serfs from 
 thraldom ? The first was a Herculean labour, be- 
 •cause both Lords and Commons drew much of their 
 revenue from British ministers ; the second was even 
 a more Titanic task. Possession is nine points of 
 the law, and the soil was in possession of the small 
 knot of Protestants, who knew that their existence 
 depended on keeping the majority in chains. Like 
 the emigrants of the Mayflower, they said : l Re- 
 solved, that the earth is the Lord's, and the fulness 
 thereof ; that the Lord hath given the earth as an 
 heritage unto His saints ; and that we are His saints. 
 JErgo : the earth is ours, to have and to hold by 
 pillage and persecution, and murder, if need be, just 
 •as the chosen people of old seized and held Canaan, 
 the land of promise, flowing with milk and honey.'' 
 
 Truly the parliament was a plague-spot fit to 
 gangrene a whole body; for it in nowise repre- 
 sented the nation, consisting as it did of three 
 hundred members, seventy- two only of whom were 
 elected by the people. The rest were nominees of 
 large Protestant proprietors who returned members
 
 44 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 for every squalid hamlet on their estates, and kept 
 their voters in the condition of tame dogs through 
 a constant terror of ejectment. Of three million 
 Catholics not one had a voice in the elections ; for 
 by law they existed not at all. Like Milton's devils 
 they occupied no space, while the Protestant angels 
 filled the air with their proportions. 
 
 It was said of the Irish gentry of the last century 
 that they possessed the materials of distinguished 
 men with the propensities of obscure ones, which 
 is a picturesque way of admitting that they were 
 incorrigibly idle. To indolence add poverty and a 
 propensity for drink, and you have a promising 
 hotbed for the growth of every ill. The aristocratic 
 pensioners were, as a rule, lapped in excessive 
 luxury, which could not be kept up without extra- 
 neous help; half English by education as well as 
 origin, they naturally leaned for protection towards 
 the English Government. 
 
 The gentry, ignorant and sensual, were given to 
 profuse hospitality, regardless of mortgaged acres 
 and embarrassed lands. Dog-boys and horse-boys 
 hung about their gates ; keepers and retainers lolled 
 upon their doorsteps, together with a posse of 
 half-mounted poor relations — all of them too genteel 
 to do anything useful — fishing for the speckled 
 trout by day, drinking huge beakers of claret and 
 quarrelling among themselves by night, till in many 
 cases there was little left, after a few years, for the 
 filling of a hundred mouths beyond a nominal 
 rent-roll and the hereditary curse of idleness. Not
 
 RETROSPECT. 45 
 
 a squire but was more or less floundering in debt, 
 and (his sense of honour blunted by necessity) 
 only too anxious for as little cast at any price. 
 Government agents were always conveniently turn- 
 ing up ready and williug to purchase mortgages 
 and notes of hand, which were duly stored in the 
 coffers of the Castle as a means of prospective coer- 
 cion by-and-by. 
 
 With such materials for a national ( Lords and 
 Commons/ it is little wonder if a sudden revulsion 
 in favour of patriotism on the part of a body of 
 enthusiasts should threaten to set the country agog. 
 How was the parliament to be purified ? That was 
 the rub. Was it to be exhorted to virtue gently, 
 or flogged into improvement ? The leaders of the 
 Volunteers had carried their first point with a rush. 
 The parliament was with them, or feigned to be so. 
 But what if the existence of the Parliament should 
 come to be threatened ? The sincerity of its pro- 
 fessions would be put to a crucial test. Careless 
 lords and impecunious squires babbled of freedom 
 and cackled of free trade, because it was become the 
 fashion and pleased the Volunteers . What cared they 
 for free trade ? That was a question which affected 
 the men of Ulster, to whom commerce was as life- 
 blood, and who indeed were the prime workers in 
 this movement. The dissenting traders of Belfast 
 had demanded a free trade, and British ministers 
 had given way. Therefore Lords and Commons 
 joined in the popular cry, and pretended that it 
 interested them. The position was a paradox.
 
 46 MY LORDS OF STROGVE. 
 
 Here was all at once a military supremacy inde- 
 pendent of the crown, and ministers in London 
 were compelled to countenance it. It was humili- 
 ating ; but their comfort lay in this. "Would the 
 Volunteer leaders allow zeal to overstep prudence t 
 Probably they would. They might be coaxed by 
 crafty submission to do so. If a collision could 
 only be brought about between a self -elected mili- 
 tary despotism and an effete but constitutional 
 senate, there were the materials for such a pretty 
 quarrel as might produce a repetition of the fate of 
 the Kilkenny cats. One would devour the other, 
 and England would gloat over the tails. The British 
 premier made a parade of * doing something for 
 Ireland' to oblige the Volunteers. 
 
 With a flourish of alarums he repealed some ob- 
 noxious laws, which graceful conduct was received 
 in Dublin with gratitude, till somebody pointed out 
 that Albion was at her tricks again : whilst seeming^ 
 gracefully to give way, she was really strengthening 
 her own position by establishing a new precedent 
 on the basis of the Poynirgs statute, to the effect 
 that such favours were in the gift of England's 
 Parliament — not Ireland's — and might accordingly 
 be withdrawn at any time. The Volunteers were 
 furious, Albion was perfidious ; the Irish senate 
 was playing a double game, there was no use in 
 mincing matters in the way of compromise. Eng- 
 land must distinctly abdicate all parliamentary 
 dominion; parliament must be remodelled on new 
 lines. In the future the senate must be upright,
 
 RETROSPECT. 47 
 
 zealous, independent, incorruptible; English gold 
 must be as dross; an English coronet hold no 
 allurement. 
 
 As might be expected, the new cry created a com- 
 motion. Patriots there were both in Lords and 
 Commons, who were prepared to sacrifice part of 
 their income for the general good, but they were 
 few. If pensions were withdrawn and mortgages 
 foreclosed and proprietors in prison, what mattered 
 to these last a national liberty ? The notion was an 
 insult, and parliament stood at bay. But the ardour 
 of the Volunteers would brook no dallying. Ulster, 
 as usual, took the lead. Sharpwitted, frugal, 
 Scotch, the battalions of the North convened a 
 general assembly. On Feb. 15, 1782, one of the 
 most impressive scenes which Ireland ever wit- 
 nessed took place at Duncannon, where two hundred 
 delegated volunteers marched two and two, calm, 
 steadfast, virtuous, determined to pledge themselves 
 before the altar of that sacred place to measures 
 which might save their motherland or kill her. 
 After earnest thought, a manifesto was framed — a 
 dignified declaration of rights and grievances, a 
 solemn statement of the people's will, a protest 
 against English craft and Irish corruption — inviting 
 the armed bodies of other provinces to aid in the 
 process of regeneration. 
 
 Can you conceive anything more glorious and 
 touching than the quiet gathering on the promon- 
 tory of Duncannon ? A towering fort frowns down 
 upon the harbour, commanding a spacious basin
 
 48 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 formed by the waters of three rivers. Imagine the 
 simple country gentlemen, the homely squires, the 
 traders of Belfast, abandoning for a while their 
 vices and their quarrels, to deliberate sword in hand 
 over the grievous shortcomings of their brethren. 
 I see them in the gloaming, with high-collared 
 coats and anxious faces, puzzling their poor brains 
 over a way out of the labyrinth. The lovely land, 
 stretched out on either side in a jagged line of 
 coast, whose slopes had been watered to greenness 
 with blood and tears, must haply be soaked again 
 in the stream of war. For the last time. Once 
 more — only once — a final sanctifying baptism which 
 should leave it clean and sweet for evermore. They 
 penned a temperate document — a dignified mani- 
 festo. Could they be single-minded to the end, or 
 would discord fling her apple among them ? 
 
 So soon as the delegates of the North received 
 the concurrence of the provinces, the senate in 
 Dublin changed its tone, for no immediate succour 
 could be hoped from England. It affected a com- 
 plete patriotism, and made believe to go all lengths 
 with the Volunteers. Patriots — real and sham — 
 thundered in the House, and were applauded to the 
 echo. It was impossible to tell who was in earnest 
 and who was not. First, said the wily senators, 
 make it clear that we are free, and then by remodel- 
 ling the Senate we will prove ourselves worthy of 
 the gift you have bestowed. Grattan towered above 
 all others. He spoke as one inspired, and the meshes 
 of the web seemed to shrivel before his breath.
 
 RETROSPECT. 49 
 
 The army patrolled the streets, and review suc- 
 ceeded review in the Phoenix Park; the national 
 artillery lined the quays. Loyalty, Dignity, For- 
 bearance, were grouped round the god of war. All 
 the virtues, posing around Mars, hovered in ether 
 over Dublin. Never was a city so happy or so 
 proud. But the English Viceroy, though outwardly 
 perturbed, was laughing in the Castle while the 
 ignorant people jigged. 
 
 1 Fools V he scoffed. ' The meeting at Dun- 
 cannon, of which you are so vain, was but the thin 
 end of the wedge which we were looking for. You 
 shall be played one against the other — people 
 against parliament and parliament against people 
 — till you break your silly pates. We stoop to con- 
 quer, as your own Goldy hath it. A little more 
 and you will be undone. A little, little more V — 
 and he was right. The Commons, with mortgages 
 before their eyes, wavered and prevaricated. The 
 Volunteers, exasperated, openly denounced the 
 senate. The people, taking fire, vowed they would 
 obey no laws, whether good or bad, which were 
 dictated under the rose by the perfidious one. The 
 statute-book was rent in pieces ; anarchy threatened 
 to supervene ; England prepared to take posses- 
 sion again. But the Volunteers, sublime at this 
 moment, came once more to the rescue. They chid 
 the weak and reproved the strong; even formed 
 themselves into a night-police for the security of 
 the capital. This hour was that of pride before 
 a fall. 
 
 vol. 1. 4
 
 50 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 In prosperity they gave way to indiscretion. En- 
 joying as they did an unnatural existence, for which 
 the only excuse was transcendent virtue, it was the 
 more needful for them to be of one mind as to a 
 chief. But they split on this important point. 
 One party declared for the Earl of Charlemont, an 
 amiable nobleman of whose mediocrity it was said 
 that his mind was without a flower or a weed ; 
 another was for ray lord of Derry, a bold, unsteady 
 prelate, who, sincere or not, was but too likely to 
 lead his flock into a quagmire. 
 
 They wavered, when to hesitate was to be lost. 
 They did worse j they dirtied their own nest in a 
 public place. Each rival chief, in his struggle for 
 supremacy, lost more than half hisinfluence. Tongues 
 wagged to the discredit of all parties. Sir Galahad, 
 feeling that he was in the toils of sirens, made a pro- 
 digious effort to escape with dignity. If parliament 
 were not remodelled the fire would end in smoke. 
 Coute qui coiite, this must be done at once, or Eng- 
 land would step in triumphant, and dire would be 
 the vengeance. All hands were quarrelling. Was 
 it already too late ? A wild and desperate effort 
 must be made to regain ground, lost by infirmity of 
 purpose. The Volunteers, all prudence cast aside, 
 determined to strike a blow in sledge-hammer 
 fashion. They deliberately decided to send three 
 hundred of their number in open and official manner 
 to Lords and Commons, bidding them reform 
 themselves at once; offering even to teach them 
 how to do it. And so the extraordinary spectacle
 
 RETROSPECT. 51 
 
 came to be seen in Dublin, of two governments — 
 one civil, one military — sitting* at the same moment 
 in the same city — within sight of each other — each 
 equally resolved to strain every nerve in order that 
 the other might not live. 
 
 Sir Galahad blundered woefully ! He had con- 
 centrated his attention with all his muddled might 
 and main on the lesser instead of the greater 
 plague-spot. ' Free Trade ' had been his shibboleth, 
 then a c Reformed Parliament/ though how it was 
 to be reformed he did not know. It escaped the 
 shortness of his vision that c Freedom of Con- 
 science ' would have been the nobler cry. Had he 
 first freed the three million slaves from the bondage 
 of the half million, the air would have been cleared 
 for the disinfecting of his senate. But no. He 
 was blind and tripped, and England saw the 
 stumble. Well might the Viceroy laugh, while he 
 made believe to tremble, as he thought of the Kil- 
 kenny cats. 
 
 4—2 
 
 library 
 inuvERSfflrffW 11
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 SHADOWS. 
 
 S day waned, the Volunteers perceived that 
 they must pass the night as watchmen 
 if they wished the capital to be suffi- 
 ciently peaceful on the morrow to attend 
 to the parliamentary tournament. What the 
 gownsmen intended for a frolic developed into a 
 riot, thanks to the national love of a row and the 
 complicated feuds which were continually breaking 
 forth. No sooner had the undergraduates pumped 
 upon the Graces and driven the English detachment 
 into Castle Yard than they found themselves 
 hemmed in by their natural enemies, the butchers 
 of Ormond Quay, who owed the college gentlemen 
 a grudge because they invariably took up the 
 cudgels of the Liberty-lads when these sworn foes 
 thought fit to have a brush. 
 
 The weavers were every bit as pugnacious as the 
 butchers. Dulness of trade, hot weather, a passing 
 thunder- shower, were excuse sufficient for a break-
 
 SHADOWS. 53 
 
 ing of the peace ; and then shops were closed and 
 business suspended along the Liffey banks, as 
 bridges were taken and retaken amid showers of 
 stones, till one or other of the belligerents was 
 driven from the field. It was one of the singular 
 contradictions of the time that youths of high 
 degree should always be ready to join the dregs of 
 the city in these outrages ; that members of an 
 intensely exclusive class should unite with coal- 
 porters or weavers against butchers, to the risk of 
 life and limb. But so it was, and frightful casualties 
 were the result sometimes; for the butchers were 
 playful with their knives, using them, not to stab 
 their opponents, which they would have considered 
 cowardly, but to hough or cut the tendon of the 
 leg, thus rendering their adversaries lame for life. 
 Sometimes they dragged their captives to the 
 market, and hung them to the meat-hooks by the 
 jaws until their party came to rescue them. Not 
 but what the aristocratic gownsmen were quite 
 capable of holding their own, as had been proved, a 
 few weeks before the commeDcement of this history, 
 by the result of a conflict on Bloody Bridge, on 
 which occasion a rash detachment of the Ormond 
 Boys was driven straight into the river, where 
 many perished by drowning before they could be 
 extricated. The butchers vowed vengeance for this 
 feat, yet were kept quiet for a while by the attitude 
 of the Volunteers ; but now they sprang blithely to 
 arms with marrow-bone and cleaver upon hearing 
 that their foes were on the war-path.
 
 54 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 At a moment so big with fate as this was, the 
 Volunteers could permit of no such kicking up of 
 heels. The dignity of the situation would be com- 
 promised by vulgar brawling. Peg Plunket and 
 Darkey Kelly were clapped into the Black Dog, 
 dripping wet, to repent on bread and water their 
 having flaunted forth this day. Lord Glandore's 
 regiment was detached to sweep the riff-raff to the 
 Liberties at once, then to coax back in less violent 
 fashion the gownsmen to Alma Mater. A charge 
 of the splendid hunters which the men rode soon 
 sent the factions swirling like dead leaves, after 
 which the armed patriots quietly jog-trotted towards 
 College Green, driving their scapegrace brothers 
 and sons before them with flat of sword and many 
 a merry jest. The affair was so good-humoured 
 that the lads did not look on it as serious. They 
 had been commanded to drop stones and fling 
 shillalaghs into the water, and had been compelled 
 to obey the mandate ; but their door-keys remained 
 to them — heavy keys which, slung in kerchiefs,, 
 were formidable weapons — and they valiantly 
 decided upon just another sally before being shut 
 up, if only to show how game they were. Upon 
 turning into Dame Street from the quay, behold X 
 nother woman, of churlish breeding, showy and 
 pink and plump, sitting in a noddy, conversing 
 with a friend. It was clearly not fair to drench 
 Peg and Darkey and Maria and leave this one to 
 go scot-free ! So, with the college war-cry, they 
 made a swoop at her. Half a dozen youth
 
 SHADOWS. 55 
 
 clambered into the carriage, while one leaped on 
 horseback and another seized the reins, and then 
 the cavalcade started at a gallop with a pack of 
 madcaps bellowing after, all vowing she should 
 have a muddy bath. Vaioly she shrieked and 
 wrung her pretty hands for mercy. She was no 
 Phryne, she bawled. A respectable married lady, 
 a descendant of Brian Borohme and Ollam Fodlah 
 and ever so many mighty princes. Ah now ! would 
 the darlints let her go ! They wouldn't ? Then 
 they were wretches who should repent their act, for 
 she had friends — powerful friends among the 
 Englishry — who would avenge the outrage. Her 
 cries only amused her tormentors. The more she 
 bawled the more they yelled and whooped and 
 danced about like demons; the faster on they 
 galloped. So recklessly, that in skirting William's 
 effigy a wheel caught against the pedestal and the 
 noddy was overturned — a wreck. This was great 
 fun. The mischief-makers formed a circle, and 
 whirled singing round their prey. She was in 
 piteous plight from mire and scratches. What 
 rarer sport than this ? The wench was sleek and 
 well-to-do ; it would be grand to set her floundering 
 in the filthy stream before returning home to college. 
 But she was right. She had a powerful friend — 
 close by too — one whose temper was short, whose 
 sword was sharp ; no less a person than the colonel 
 of the regiment that, with quip and quirk, was 
 coaxing them homewards. At the sound of Mrs. 
 Gillin's lamentations, Lord Glandore waved his
 
 56 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 sword and thundered out ' Desist V He might as well 
 have argued with the winds. The phosphorescent 
 light of menace which folks dreaded in the eye of a 
 Glandore glimmered forth from his. With a fierce 
 oath he spurred his horse, and, beside himself with 
 passion, plunged blindly with his weapon into the 
 heap of sable gowns. 
 
 A luckless youth with gold braid upon his vesture, 
 who was bendiug down to extricate the lady, received 
 the sword-point in his back, and, screaming, swooned 
 away. A cry of enraged horror burst from all, and, 
 like a swarm of angry bees, the boys fixed, without 
 thought of consequences, on the aggressor. They were 
 of his own class ; their blood as hot and blue as his, 
 although so young. What ! murder a gownsman 
 for a bit of folly ? 'Twas but a frolic, which he had 
 turned to tragedy. A peasant would not have 
 mattered — but one of noble lineage ! Vengeance 
 should fall swift and terrible. They dared the 
 soldiery to interfere. A hundred hands dragged 
 the colonel from his horse, which, with a blow, was 
 sent riderless down Sackville Street. His clothes 
 were in tatters in a twinkling. A dozen heavy keys 
 flew through the air with so sure an aim that he 
 staggered and fell prone. One youth picked up the 
 weapon, which yet reeked with his comrade's blood, 
 and broke it on the backbone of his destroyer. In 
 a trice the tragedy was complete. Ere his men 
 could reach him, Lord Glandore lay motionless ; 
 and Grillin was rending the air with shrieks which 
 were re-echoed from the club-house.
 
 SHADOWS. 57 
 
 And now the melee became general, for some 
 weavers who had lingered in the rear gave the 
 alarm ; the Liberty-boys sallied forth again, and the 
 chairmen, hewing their staves in twain, belaboured 
 all impartially, adding to the general disturbance. 
 This was no vulgar riot now, for blood had been 
 twice drawn — that of the privileged class — and 
 gentlemen, fearing for their sons who were only 
 armed with keys, rushed out from club and tavern 
 to form a bulwark round the gownsmen against the 
 rage of the infuriated soldiery. Thus sons and 
 fathers were smiting right and left below, whilst 
 mothers were screaming from the windows ; and 
 the peeresses saw more than they came out to see 
 ere swords were sheathed and peace could be 
 restored. They had lingered, many of them, at 
 Daly's till past the tea-hour, to inspect the illu- 
 minations before adjourning to the Fishamble Street 
 Masquerade; and crowded in a bevy round the 
 club-house door as the dying earl and his distracted 
 love were borne into the coffee-room; while the 
 €ollegians retired backwards in compact order, 
 silent but menacing, till the gates of Alma Mater 
 ■opened and clanged to on them. 
 
 The peeresses had bawled as loud as Madam 
 Oillin, and now cried with one voice for pouncet- 
 boxes. The one of their order whom the tragedy 
 chiefly concerned uttered never a word. With dry 
 eye and distended nostril my lady looked on the 
 prostrate figures — the still one of her lord — the 
 picturesquely hysterical form of the hated Gillin —
 
 58 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 and bit her white lip as the frown, which was 
 become habitual, deepened on her face. Little 
 Doreen looked on in unblinking wonder, till her 
 father clasped his fingers on her eyes to shut out 
 the horrid sight from them. Members entered 
 hurriedly by the private way from the Parliament 
 Houses, and smirked and looked demure, and, 
 feeling that they had no business there, retired on 
 tiptoe. The peeresses felfc that a prospective 
 widow is best left alone, and one by one retreated, 
 skimming away like seamews to gabble of the dread 
 event to scandalmongers less blest than they, leaving 
 the two women to face their bereavement and speak 
 to each other for the first time. Strange to say, 
 these rivals had never had speech together in their 
 lives. Madam Gillin choked her sobs after a while- 
 and revived, sitting up stupidly and staring half- 
 stunned, as she picked with mechanical fretfulness 
 at the feathers of her fan. The shock of so sudden 
 a misfortune took her breath away; but, perceiving 
 the haughty eyes of her enemy fixed gloomily upon 
 her, she rallied and strung up her nerves to face- 
 the mongrel daughter of the Sassanagh. 
 
 My lady — erect and towering in martial frock 
 and helm — pointed with stern finger at the door.. 
 Of her own will the real wife would never soil her 
 lips by speaking to this woman; but she, assuming* 
 a dogged smile as she rearrayed her garments, 
 tossed her head unheeding, till Arthur Wolfe took 
 her hand and strove to lead her thence. She 
 pushed him back and leaned over the impromptu:
 
 SHADOWS. $9 
 
 bed which lacqueys had built up of chairs and 
 tables ; for at this moment my lord moved, opened 
 his eyes which sought those of his mistress, and, 
 struggling in the grip of Death, essayed to speak. 
 His wife moved a step nearer to catch his words, 
 but, consistent to the end, he motioned her impa- 
 tiently away. The face of the countess burned with 
 shame and wrath as she turned to the window, and, 
 clasping her eldest-born to her bosom, pressed a 
 hot cheek against the panes. He could not forbear 
 to humiliate her, even before the club-servants — 
 before vulgar little Curran and the foolish neophyte- 
 — before the horrible woman who had usurped her 
 place in his affections. Was it the hussy's mission 
 to insult her always — to cover her with unending 
 mortification ? No ! Thank goodness. That ordeal 
 was nearly overpast, but she would forget its cor- 
 roding bitterness never ! My lord's sand was ebbing 
 visibly. In an hour at most he must pass the 
 Rubicon. Then the minx should be stripped of 
 borrowed plumes and turned out upon the world, 
 even as Jane Shore was centuries ago. Ignominy 
 should be piled back upon the papist a hundred- 
 fold. She knew, or thought she knew, that my 
 lord was too careless to have thought of a last 
 testament. At all events, a legacy from a Protestant 
 to a Catholic was fraught with legal pitfalls. But 
 she started from false premises, as her astonished 
 ears soon told her. 
 
 My lord, raising himself upon his elbows, spoke 
 — slowly, with labouring breath; for his life was
 
 «6o MY LORDS OF ST ROGUE. 
 
 oozing in scarlet throbs through the sword-gash, 
 and grave-damps were gathering upon his skin. 
 
 ' Grillin dear V he gasped, with a diabolical em- 
 phasis to disgust his wife. ' I have loved you, for 
 you were always gay and cheerful and forgiving, 
 not glaring and reproachful like that stony figure 
 there ! I leave you well provided for. The Little 
 House is yours, with the farm and the land about 
 it ; in return for which I lay a duty on you. My 
 lady will not be pleased/ he continued, with a look 
 •of hate; ' for she will never be able to drive out of 
 Strogue without passing before your doors. And 
 she must live there — there or at Ennishowen, or by 
 my will she will forfeit certain rights. Lift me up. 
 I can hardly breathe/ 
 
 Both Wolfe and Curran made a movement of 
 indignation as the departing sinner exposed his 
 plaus. What a fiendish thing, so to shame a wife 
 whose only apparent crime was a coldness of de- 
 meanour ! Well, well! The Glandores were 
 always mad, and this one more crazy than his 
 forefathers. 
 
 My lord marked the movement, and, turning his 
 glazing eyes towards his second son, smiled faintly. 
 1 Not so bad as you think/ he panted. ( I have 
 bequeathed the Little House to your daughter, 
 Gillin, to be held in trust for you, then to be hers 
 absolutely — to pretty Norah, who, at my wish you 
 know, was baptised a Protestant. I will that the 
 two families should live side by side, in order that 
 his mother may do no harm to my second child,
 
 SHADOWS. 61 
 
 whom she abhors. I do not think she would do 
 him active wrong. But we can never tell what a 
 woman will do if goaded. Swear to watch over the 
 boy, Gillin ; and if evil befall, point the finger of 
 public opinion at his mother. She will always bow 
 to that, I know. Bring lights. Hold up my little 
 Terence that I may look at him. Lights ! It is 
 very dark/ 
 
 A candle was brought in a great silver sconce, 
 but my lord had looked his last on earth. Vainly 
 he peered through a gathering film. The child's 
 blonde locks were hidden from his sight ; and then, 
 feeling that the portals of one world were shut ere 
 those of the other were ajar, he was seized with a 
 quaking dread like ague. The devil-may-care swag- 
 ger of the Glandores was gone. He strov3 with 
 groans to recall a long-forgotten prayer, and the 
 spectators of his death-bed were stricken with awe. 
 
 1 Gillin/ he murmured, in so strange and hoarse 
 a voice as to make her shudder. ' It is an awful 
 wrong we've done. Why did you let me ? Too 
 late now. I cannot set it right, but she — call my 
 lady — why is she not here V 
 
 The tall countess was standing sternly over him, 
 close by, with crossed arms, but he could not see 
 her. 
 
 ' I am here. What would you V she said ; as 
 white as he, with a growing look of dread. 
 
 1 That wrong V he gurgled. { That dreadful 
 thing. Oh, set it right while you have time ; for my 
 sake ; for your own, that you may escape this tor-
 
 62 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 ment. If I might live an hour — God ! but one ! 
 We three only know. If I could ' 
 
 The wretched man made an effort to rise — a last 
 supreme effort. A spasm seized his throat. He 
 flung his arms into the air aud fell back — dead. 
 
 Doreen, the brown-eyed girl, cowered against her 
 father and began to cry. The boys, who looked on 
 the work of the White Pilgrim for the first time, 
 clung trembling in an embrace with twitching lips. 
 The two women — so dissimilar in birth and breed- 
 ing — bound by a strange secret link — scrutinised 
 each other long and steadily across the corpse, as 
 skilful swordsmen do who would gauge a rival's 
 skill. They were about to skirmish now. In the 
 future might one be called upon to run the other 
 through ? Who can tell what lurks behind the veil ? 
 
 The countess winced under the insolent gaze with 
 which Madam Gillin looked her up and down. With 
 a tinge of half- alarmed contempt she broke the 
 silence. 
 
 ' Arthur/ she said, ' take that chit away. With 
 her mother's craven soul in her, she's like to have a 
 fit. At any rate, save my conscience that. Fear 
 not for me, though they have all run off as if I were 
 plague-stricken. Mr. Curran I dare say, or some 
 one, will see me taken care o?. You will have details 
 to look to for me. Take the girl hence. No. 
 Leave the boys.' 
 
 Arthur Wolfe departed, taking with him Doreen 
 and his godson Tone ; and Mr. Curran, nodding to 
 them, withdrew to the antechamber.
 
 SHADOWS. 63 
 
 The women were alone with their dead. My lady 
 stood frowning at the usurper, who, no whit abashed, 
 laid a hand upon the corpse and said, in solemn 
 accents : ' So help me God — I'll do his bidding. Do 
 not glare at me, woman, or you may drive me to 
 use my nails. I know your secret, for your husband 
 babbled of it as lie slept. It is a fearful wrong. 
 Many a time I've urged him to see justice done, no 
 matter at what cost to you and to himself. But he 
 was weak and wicked too. I suppose it is now too 
 late, for you are as bad as he, and vain as well of 
 your murky half-caste blood V 
 
 Madam Gillin drew back a step • for, stung to the 
 quick by the beginning of her speech, my lady made 
 as if to strike her foe with the toy-bayonet ; but, 
 reason coming to the rescue, she tossed it on the 
 ground. This last insult was too much. To speak 
 plainly of such shameful things to her very face ! 
 The brazen hardened papist hussy ! But vulgar 
 Gillin laughed at the fierce impulse with such a jeer- 
 ing crow as startled Mr. Curran in the antechamber. 
 ' Do you want fisticuffs V she gibed, with a plump 
 white fist on either hip. ' I warrant ye'd get the 
 worst of such a tussle, my fine madam, for all your 
 haughty airs — you — who should act as serving- 
 wench to such as I. Nay ! Calm yourself. I'm 
 off. This is the first time we've ever spoken — I 
 hope it may be the last, for that will mean that you 
 have behaved properly to your second son. I've no 
 desire to cross your path; you cruel, wicked, 
 heartless woman ! '
 
 64 MY LORDS OF ST ROGUE. 
 
 Lady Glandore, her thin lips curling, took 
 Terence by the hand for all reply, and bade him 
 kneel. 
 
 ' Swear/ she said in low clear tones, drawing 
 forward the astonished Shane, ' that you will be 
 faithful to your elder brother as a vassal to a 
 suzerain, that you will do him no treason, but act 
 as a junior should with submission to the head of 
 his house/ 
 
 The little boy had been crying with all his might 
 ever since they brought in that ghastly heap. Con- 
 fused and awed by his mother's hard manner he 
 repeated her words, then broke into fresh sobs, 
 whilst Madam Gillin stared and clasped her hands 
 together as she turned to go. 
 
 ' Sure the woman's cracked/ she muttered. 
 'What does she mean? The feudal system's 
 passed. No oath can be binding on a child of 
 twelve. Maybe she's not wicked — only mad — as 
 mad as my lord was. Well, God help the child ! 
 What's bred in the bone will out ! Deary me ! 
 There's something quare about all these half- 
 English nobles.' 
 
 Mr. Curran waited, according to agreement, lest 
 anything should be required by my lady; and though 
 by no means a lady's man, was not sorry so to do, 
 for the conduct of the countess in her sudden be- 
 reavement had been, to say the least of it, extraor- 
 dinary, and he was curious to observe what would 
 happen next. There was something beneath that 
 haughty calmness which roused his curiosity. Was
 
 SHADOWS. 65 
 
 she regretting the past, conscious only of the sun- 
 shine, forgetful now of storms ; or was she rejoicing 
 at a release ? Holding* no clue, conjecture was 
 waste of brain-power. 
 
 So Mr. Curran resolved to reserve his judgment, 
 and turned his attention to what was going on with- 
 out, while the servants stole backwards and for- 
 wards, improvising the preparations for a wake. 
 
 The proceedings outside were well-nigh as lugu- 
 brious as those within. A thick mist and drizzling 
 rain were descending on the town, turning the roads 
 to quagmires, the ornamental draperies to dish- 
 clouts, the wreaths to funereal garlands. The illu- 
 minations, concerning which expectation had been 
 so exercised, flickered and guttered dismally. 
 Groups of men in scarlet, their powder in wet mud 
 upon their coats, reeled down the greasy pavement, 
 waking the echoes with a drunken view-halloo or a 
 fragment of the Volunteer hymn. Some were 
 making an exhaustive tour of the boozing-kens ; 
 some staggered towards the lottery-rooms in Capel 
 Street, or the Hells of Skinner's Row ; some were 
 running-a-muck with unsteady gait, and sword-tip 
 protruded through the scabbard for the behoof of 
 chairmen's calves; while some again, in a glimmer 
 of sobriety, were examining the smirched stockings 
 and spattered breeches which precluded their ap- 
 pearance at Smock Alley. Chairs and coaches 
 flitted by, making for Moira House or the Palace 
 of his Grace of Leinster, for all kept open-house 
 to-night, and Mr. Curran' s crab -apple features 
 
 vol. 1. 5
 
 66 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 puckered into a grin as he marked how fearfully 
 faces were upturned to Daly's, where one of the 
 elect was lying stiff and stark. But the grin soon 
 faded into a look of sadness, as, like some seer, he 
 apostrophised his countrymen. 
 
 ( people V he reflected, ' easily gulled and 
 hoodwinked, how long will your triumph last? 
 This is but a grazing of the ark on Ararat — a 
 delusive omen of the subsiding of the waters. Our 
 bark is yet to be tossed, not on a sinking, but on a 
 more angry flood than heretofore. Eat and drink, 
 for to-morrow you die. What was your ancestors' 
 sin that ye should be saddled with a curse for ever ? 
 Your land was the Isle of Saints, yet were ye pre- 
 doomed from the beginning ; for when the broth of 
 your character was brewed, prudence was left out 
 and discord tossed in instead. And the taskmaster, 
 knowing that in discord lies his strength, plays on 
 your foibles for your undoing. How long may the 
 prodigy of your co-operation last ? Alas ! It pales 
 already. To-morrow is your supreme trial of 
 strength, and your chiefs are at daggers- drawn. 
 What will be the end ? What will be the end V 
 
 He shook himself free from the dismal prospect 
 of his thoughts, for since Madam Gillin bustled out 
 my lady had been very quiet. He peeped through 
 the doorway. No ! She had not moved since he 
 looked in an hour ago ; but was sitting still with 
 her chin on her two hands — gazing with knitted 
 brows at the body as it lay, its form defined dimly 
 through the sheet that covered it.
 
 SHADOWS. 67 
 
 Terence, lulled by tears, had fallen asleep long- 
 since upon the floor. Shane walked hither and 
 thither, biting his nails furtively ; for he was a brave 
 boy who feared not his father dead, though he 
 trembled in his presence whilst alive. Had he 
 dared he would have gone forth into the street to 
 see the gay folks, the lights, and junketing, for he 
 was high up in his teens and longed to be a man. 
 But it would not do to leave the mother whom he 
 loved and dreaded to the protection of Curran — - 
 the low lawyer. He was my lord now, and the 
 head of his house, and must protect her who had 
 hitherto protected him. He marvelled, though, in 
 his slow brain, as it wandered round the knotty 
 subject, over the passage of arms betwixt the 
 ladies ; their covert menace ; the oath the little lad 
 was made to swear. It was all strange — his mother 
 of all the strangest. Protect her, forsooth ! The 
 uncompromising mouth and square chin of her 
 ladyship — the steely glitter of her light grey eye 
 — showed independent will enough for two. Clearly 
 she was intended to protect others, rather than her- 
 self to need protection. But her manner was odd, 
 her frown of evil augury. At a moment of soul- 
 stirring woe, such calmness as this of hers could 
 bode no good. 
 
 All through the night she sat reviewing her life, 
 while Shane walked in a fidget, and patient Curran 
 waited. She brooded over the past, examined the 
 threatening future, without moving once or uttering' 
 a sound. She was deciding in her mind on a future 
 
 5—2
 
 68 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 plan of action which should lead her safely through 
 a sea of dangers. Was she as relentless as she 
 looked ? Was this an innately wicked nature, set 
 free at last from duress, revolving how best to 
 abuse its liberty ; or was it one at bottom good, but 
 prejudiced and narrow, chained down and warped 
 awry, and dulled by circumstance ?
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 BANISHMENT. 
 
 EARS went by. The volcano burned 
 blithely, and the upper orders danced 
 on it. No court was more like that of 
 a stage potentate than the court of the 
 Irish Viceroy. No ridottos were so gorgeous as 
 those of Dublin ; no equipag-es so sumptuous ; no 
 nobles so magnificently reckless. Mr. Handel 
 averred in broken German that he adored the 
 Hibernian capital, and gave birth to his sublime 
 creations for the edification of Dublin belles. The 
 absentees returned home in troops, finding that in 
 their mother's mansion were many fatted calves ; 
 and vied with one another, in the matter of Italian 
 stuccoists and Parisian painters, for the display of 
 a genteel taste. But, as the poet hath it, 'things 
 are not always as they seem.' The crust of the 
 volcano grew daily thinner. What a gnashing of 
 teeth would result from its collapse !
 
 yo MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 The Grand Convention fell a victim to its leaders, 
 
 and from a mighty engine of the national will 
 
 shrivelled into an antic posturing. Mr. Grattan 
 
 (the man of eighty-two par excellence) perceived 
 
 that he was overreached; that perfidious Albion 
 
 shuffled one by one out of her engagements, that 
 
 the independence, over which he had crowed like 
 
 a revolutionary cock, was no more than an illusory 
 
 phantom. The Renunciation Act was repealable at 
 
 pleasure, he found, and no renunciation save in 
 
 name. The horrid Poyning, the objectionable 6th 
 
 of George III., tossed into limbo with such pomp, 
 
 might become law again by a mere pen-scratch. 
 
 Ireland was decked in the frippery of freedom, 
 
 which, torn off piecemeal, would leave her naked 
 
 and ashamed. The Volunteers, perceiving that 
 
 their blaring and strutting had produced nothing 
 
 real, looked sheepishly at one another and returned 
 
 to their plain clothes. After all, they were asses 
 
 in lions' skins ; their association a theatrical pageant 
 
 of national chivalry, which dazzled Europe for an 
 
 instant till men smelt the sawdust and the oranore- 
 
 o 
 
 peel and recognised in the helmet a dishcover. 
 During all this vapouring and trumpeting, England 
 had held her own, by means of the subservient 
 Lords and the heavily mortgaged Commons. The 
 parliament, too base for shame, smiled unabashed; 
 the Volunteers, conscience-smitten and in despair, 
 broke up and fell to pieces. The Catholics were as 
 much serfs as ever. Derry, whose conscience was 
 troubled with compunctious visitings, went so far
 
 BANISHMENT. 71 
 
 as to propose that the Catholics (burning source of 
 trouble in all altercations) should emigrate en masse 
 to Rome as a bodyguard for his Holiness; but 
 the latter, dreading an incursion of three million 
 savages, which would have been like an invasion of 
 the Huns, declined with thanks the present, and the 
 laudable scheme was given up. 
 
 Far-sighted folks became aware that the pretty 
 tricks of the puppets were due to an English 
 punchinello. The fantoccini did credit to their 
 machinist, who was skilful at pulling of wires. 
 Who was he ? Why, Mr. Pitt the younger, who 
 would have his dolls jump as he listed, though 
 they should come to be shattered in the jumping. 
 Mr. Pitt, the British premier, set his wits to work 
 to keep all grades and classes squabbling. At one 
 time, to exasperate the Papists, he gave an extra 
 twist to the penal screw ; at another, he untwisted 
 it suddenly to anger the Orangemen. Coercion and 
 relief were two reins in his skilled hands wherewith 
 he sawed the mouth of poor rawboned Rosinante, 
 till the harried animal came down upon its haunches. 
 He established a forty- shilling franchise which gave 
 votes to the poorest, most ignorant, and most de- 
 pendent peasantry in Europe. This he declared 
 was the divine gift of liberty. Nothing of the sort. 
 It merely placed a fresh tool in the hands of large 
 proprietors who were dying to be bribed and 
 charmed to have something new to sell. 
 
 Though the Volunteers ceased to be a cause of 
 uneasiness, it was plain to Mr. Pitt that a repetition
 
 72 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 of their military fandango must be made impossible. 
 How was this to be accomplished ? As it was, they 
 had left behind theni, when they vanished, the 
 nucleus of a disease — a small but sturdy band of 
 patriots, who were not to be bought or cajoled. 
 Unless treated in time, this spot might inflame and 
 grow contagious. How was it to be treated ? That 
 was the grave question whereon hung the peace of 
 Erin. The honest handful saw the rock on which 
 the Convention had split, and were humble enough 
 to try and remedy the error. Theobald — romantic 
 young 'protege of Arthur Wolfe — was the first to 
 show them the true case, to demonstrate that Ire- 
 land's harmony was England's disappointment ; 
 that the only hope for motherland lay, not in a 
 commingling of a few red uniforms, or a picturesque 
 mixing of social grades, but in a compact welding 
 together for the common weal of the different reli- 
 gious creeds which had distracted the land with its 
 dissensions since the Reformation. ' Till this is done/ 
 he said, c the Sassanagh will toss us as a battledore 
 a shuttlecock. Establish the grand principle of 
 liberty of conscience, bridge the abyss of mutual 
 intolerance, stay the carriage of the first emotions 
 of the heart ! If the rights of men be duties to 
 God, then are we of the same religion. Our creed 
 of civil faith is the same. Let us agree then to ex- 
 clude from our thoughts all things in which we 
 differ, and be brethren in heart and mind for our 
 mother's sake/ The words of the romantic young 
 apostle touched his hearers on their tenderest chord,
 
 BANISHMENT. 73 
 
 and they swore to learn wisdom by the past, and 
 live in amity for ever. The quick revulsion from 
 bigotry to tolerance was not so amazing as it seems, 
 for Theobald Wolfe Tone was but the visible expres- 
 sion of the spirit of his age — the abuse-abhorring 
 spirit which distinguished the eighteenth century, 
 and culminated in the French upheaving of '89. 
 
 That sanguinary outburst, which blew into the ele- 
 ments a long-rooted despotism, and which clenched 
 the new-fangled faith enunciated in the War of 
 Independence, had an enormous effect on Ireland — 
 an effect of which Mr. Pitt availed himself for his 
 own purposes with his usual tact. The principle of 
 '89 made its way to England, where the genius of 
 the Constitution prevailed against its allurements ; 
 then passed across the Channel, where it was 
 eagerly received by men who were being hounded 
 on to recklessness. The adverse religious sects 
 which had just vowed eternal amity, seeing what 
 passed in Paris, looked on one another with alarm. 
 The Catholic clergy grew suspicious of the reformers 
 ■who extolled the conduct of France, because the 
 new regime had produced Free Thought, or rather 
 had endowed the bantling with strength which the 
 great Voltaire had nourished. People were startled 
 by bold views which were new to them. The timid 
 looked down a chasm to which they could perceive 
 no bottom, and shrank back. A fanatical few were- 
 for going all lengths at once, and demanding the 
 help of France to produce an Irish upheaval. At 
 this juncture a friendly English policy — a judicious
 
 74 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 combination of discipline and conciliation — would 
 have allayed the brewing storm. But it was not 
 the intention of British ministers that the country 
 should be tranquillised just yet. Quite the contrary. 
 They resolved to stir up such a tempest as should 
 frighten Erin out of her poor wits, and drive her to 
 •distrust her own strength and her own wisdom for 
 the rest of her natural existence. 
 
 Theobald Wolfe Tone — ardent, patriotic, fired by 
 the golden thoughts of youth, and bursting with 
 Utopian schemes — was just such a catspaw as was 
 wanted. His bright earnest face beamed with the 
 rays of truth; his pure life compelled respect; his rapt 
 eloquence lured many to his side, despite the warn- 
 ings of their judgment. Though a Protestant, he was 
 scandalised by the Peual Code. He wandered like a 
 discontented young Moses among his enslaved coun- 
 trymen. From pamphleteering he took to declama- 
 tion, and, like many another, became convinced by 
 his own discourse. He started a society among the 
 Presbyterians of Ulster for the encouragemeut of 
 universal love, and dubbed it the Society of United 
 Irishmen. It grew and flourished at Belfast, for 
 all Irish projects which were bold and enterprising 
 came into being in the north. In spite of Mr. 
 Wolfe, of Curran, of Lady Glandore (who took up 
 her brother's protege), young Tone abandoned the 
 Bar, and deliberately developed into an incendiary. 
 He travelled over the country haranguing crowds, 
 addressing meetings, demonstrating home truths, 
 •exhorting all to join the cause which should pro- 
 mote concord amongst Irishmen of all persuasions.
 
 BANISHMENT. 75 
 
 A bloodless revolution was to be organised like 
 that of '82 j but on a surer basis. Instead of five 
 hundred thousand, five millions of men were to 
 stand up as oue to demand a clear ratification of 
 their rights, and, really united at last, would be cer- 
 tain of the crown of victory. Vainly his friends 
 warned him off the precipice, declaring that the 
 world was not ripe for a millennium, that the heart 
 of man is desperately wicked, that five millions of 
 men never were yet of one mind, that even a dozen 
 Irishmen never yet agreed upon any given subject 
 whatsoever. Tone was infatuated with his Utopian 
 scheme, prepared like the pure-souled enthusiast 
 that he was to give up his all to bring about its 
 furtherance. What better catspaw could be selected 
 by Mr. Pitt than this artless apostle in whom was 
 no taint of guile ? 
 
 If Tone's society had been left alone, it would 
 have dwindled as over-virtuous for this world. It 
 must be persecuted (so Mr. Pitt determined) till it 
 flourished like a bay-tree. Then Tone and the 
 United Irishmen must be stamped beneath the heel, 
 and it would be odd indeed if they did not drag 
 their tottering country in their downfall. So Mr. 
 Pitt sat down to play a game of chess with uncon- 
 scious Theobald, permitting him to frisk his pieces 
 about the board till he chose to take them one by 
 one. The game was heartless, for the players were 
 deplorably ill-matched. What could a knot of 
 earnest youths do against the forces of estab- 
 lished government — a government which was not
 
 76 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 squeamish as to the weapons it employed ? Master 
 Tone was agitating for the Catholics, was he ? Out 
 with a relief bill, which, by bestowing illusory con- 
 cessions, should exasperate the ultra- Protestants. 
 Then with lightning- speed, in dazzling sequence, a 
 host of contradictory enactments, such as should 
 keep the ball a-rolling. Towns were garrisoned 
 with English troops, armed assemblies suppressed, 
 public discussions forbidden, the sale of ammunition 
 prohibited, conventions of delegates rendered penal. 
 A deft touch of personal persecution besides, and 
 the United Irishmen would become martyrs. 
 
 Before they could fully understand this complex 
 phalanx of decrees, Tone and his lieutenants — 
 driven by events as by a remorseless broom — found 
 themselves transformed from a harmless debating 
 club into a secret society, proscribed and outlawed. 
 They discovered, too, that a,n illegal Star Chamber 
 — a threatening Wehmgericht — had been created 
 somehow to spy out their ways ; that a secret 
 council was established in the Castle, which was 
 garnished with bristling bayonets, and supplied 
 with paid informers. 
 
 They buffeted like beasts in a net. The more 
 they struggled, the more entangled they became. 
 Then, hot-headed to begin with, they grew frantic. 
 Must it be war ? they howled. War be it then, 
 though you have arms and we have none. With 
 the sacred cause we will win or perish. Tear your 
 colours from the staff, people ; muffle your drums 
 and beat yonr funeral march if ye are not prepared
 
 BANISHMENT. 77 
 
 to stand iu the breach with us, to fall or conquer, 
 for God and motherland ! 
 
 Fate gave Mr. Pitt a cruel game to play, but he 
 was not one to blench at phantoms. It was a game 
 beset with difficulties — tortuous, dirty, dark. So 
 he turned up his cuffs and played it like the bold 
 man he was, without flinching; in an age, too, when 
 the end was acknowledged to justify the means. 
 The crime which he had to commit was of his 
 master's ordering, and must lie at his door — at the 
 door of good King George, that well-meaning stupid 
 boor. On his shoulders and no others must be laid 
 the horrors of '98 — of that hideous carnival which, 
 though it took place but eighty years ago, stands 
 without rival in the annals of human wickedness. 
 Some, maybe, will hope that this chronicle is over- 
 drawn. Unhappily it is not so. There is no his- 
 torical fact recorded in these pages in connection 
 with that bitter time for which there exists not 
 ample evidence. The cruelty of devils lies dor- 
 mant in each one of us. From 1796 to 1800, 
 it had full play in Ireland. There is no doubt that 
 if Mr. Pitt had been allowed his way, he would 
 have dealt fairly by the sister island ; that he in- 
 tended a broad emancipation of the serfs, an hon- 
 ourable course which would have landed him on 
 his father's pinnacle. But his hands were tied in 
 two ways. First by the bigotry of George, who 
 loathed with a lunatic abhorrence all opinions 
 which differed from his own ; secondly, by the up- 
 heaval of '89, which, by overturning established
 
 78 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 dogmas, opened out awful vistas of new danger to- 
 the body politic. The position being what it was, 
 he cut his coat according to his cloth, accepted what 
 he could not help, and arranged that a religious feud 
 must be fomented to boiling-point, in order to make 
 its suppression an excuse for political slavery. 
 
 To carry out this project he needed a trusty 
 coadjutor; one who was crafty, ambitious, selfish, 
 clever, unprincipled, and, above all, Irish ; and this 
 vara avis he found in the Irish chancellor, Lord 
 Clare (whose acquaintance we made in 1783, when 
 he was Fitzgibbon, attorney- general). This man 
 he reckoned up at once at his true worth, and set 
 him accordingly to fight the battle with the patriots. 
 A better tool it was not possible to find, for he de- 
 spised his countrymen for their unpractical romance, 
 looking on them as stepping-stones for his own per- 
 sonal aggrandisement. His domineering airs had 
 in the intervening time coerced to his own way of 
 thinking a host of weathercock viceroys, had raised 
 him to the woolsack, rendered him supreme in the 
 law courts. Mr. Pitt begged this glorious crea- 
 ture to make a trip to London, and proceeded to 
 open his mind to him, or rather that murky cup- 
 board which he exposed as such to the admiration 
 of his dolls, when he chose to cajole them into the 
 belief that they were colleagues. 
 
 c We have an ensanguined path to tread, my dear 
 Lord Clare/ he said, with raised eyebrows ; ' but it 
 is the shortest and the safest. We must coax on 
 these boys to displays of rashness till they shall
 
 BANISHMENT. 79, 
 
 drive the most respectable to take refuge in our 
 bosom. A prison shall cool the ardour of the 
 fanatics. Gold shall be the portion of those who 
 waver. Bloody, say you ? Is not Ireland already 
 traceable in the statute-book as a wounded man in 
 a crowd is tracked by his wounds ? A few transi- 
 tory troubles — mere spasms, nothing more — and our 
 patient will be calm. Let the jade be tied hand and 
 foot, and we'll mop up the blood and she will come to 
 hug her chains. As for you, my dear lord/ he went 
 on with a familiar smirk, which warmed Lord Clare 
 with pleasure, ' you will be a gainer in several ways. 
 Your talents are wasted in that poky little house on 
 College Green. We want men of your kidney at 
 St. Stephen's, 'fore Gad we do V and Lord Clare 
 took the bait, and the English premier rubbed his 
 hands behind his back. It was but a new phase of 
 a time-honoured policy. Chancellor and patriots 
 should be made to plunge their paws into the fire ; 
 then Mr. Pitt in his ambush would quietly eat the nut. 
 
 So the new society of United Irishmen pursued 
 its desperate way, upheld in fainting moments by 
 the ardour of its young apostle ; and the chancellor 
 returned home to set traps to catch his feet; and in 
 order to facilitate his movements a new viceroy was 
 sent over — a gabbling weak man, who would do as he 
 was bid; whose private life was irreproachable; who in 
 public was an idiot ; who would obey the chancellor 
 in all things ; whose name was my Lord Camden. 
 
 As might have been expected, Theobald fell into 
 the snare. His lieutenants were locked up. Un-
 
 So MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 dismayed, lie prated, with increased vehemence, o£ 
 a bondage worse than that of Egypt, called on the 
 men of Ulster to break down the Penal Code ; 
 pointed out that the oppressor was as vicious as an 
 Eastern despot, that the oppressed was disfigured 
 into the semblance of a beast. The awakened Pres- 
 byterians answered to his call ; and, when they had 
 sufficiently committed themselves, the watchful 
 chancellor put down his claw on them. Tone's 
 career was short. Yery soon he too was cast into 
 gaol, while small fry were allowed to flap their wings 
 till their mission, too, should be accomplished. 
 But Mr. Pitt, if a strong, was not an ungenerous 
 foe. He respected the young man, who was made 
 of the stuff which makes heroes. By his command 
 Theobald was incarcerated in Newgate for a brief 
 space, to chew the cud of his vain imaginings, and 
 then was given back his liberty on condition of 
 departing from the country which he loved. Sadly 
 he accepted the boon which was tossed to him — for 
 choice lay 'twixt exile and the Kilmainham minuet ; 
 despatched his faithful wife before him to America ; 
 and (Mr. Pitt and the chancellor permitting) called 
 his closest friends around him once again ere he 
 shook their hands for the last time. He stands in 
 the gloaming now, bareheaded, to pour out a last 
 burning exhortation to his disciples as we take up 
 the clue of this our chronicle, whose thread shall no 
 more be broken. 
 
 It is the lovely evening of the 12th of July, 1795. 
 The scene a triangular field known as ' The Garden '
 
 BANISHMENT. 8r 
 
 on the shore of Dublin Bay, from whence may be 
 duskily distinguished on the one side the cupolas 
 and spires of the city ; on the other, at the end of 
 a promontory jutting out into the sea, the ivy-clad 
 walls of Strogue Abbey, bowered in umbrageous 
 woods. Joy-chimes are wafted on the breeze, and 
 now and again a puff of smoke shows as a white 
 spot across the bay, and a second later the boom of 
 a royal salute shakes the hollyhocks and causes 
 the little group to shiver. It is the anniversary of 
 William, who saved us from wooden shoes. Mr. 
 Curran — apart from the rest — beats his cane testily 
 upon the ground, and murmurs : c Lord Clare is 
 justified in despising them. The pack of fools ! 
 Jigging round Juggernaut at this minute with 
 orange lilies and foolish banners ! Even so Nero 
 fiddled while Rome burned. Will my countrymen 
 learn wisdom ? Of course not. Never/ 
 
 The evening light shines full on the face of the 
 young enthusiast, marking in relief the deep cuts 
 chiselled by premature sorrow on his cheek. He is 
 effeminate-looking but genteel, with long lank hair 
 simply caught back behind. His thin figure appears 
 more slight than usual, his pale face more wan, in 
 the anxious eyes of his companions ; his hands more 
 thin and feverish as one by one he clasps with a 
 lingering pressure those that are held out to him. 
 
 1 Thanks, friends V he says, with a weary smile. 
 ' It was idle in me to bid you take the oath once 
 more ; for having once sworn I know you will be 
 faithful. Yet will it be as music to mine ears, as I 
 
 vol. i. 6
 
 82 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 roam in a foreign land, to recall the solemn cadence 
 of your beloved voices. Nay — weep not ! Be of 
 good cheer. See these flowers around, and take 
 courage with the omen. Mark how they droop 
 and sink — grieving together for the dying-day. A 
 few hours of sleep and they will wake refreshed again, 
 and lift up their loving heads unto the sun, with 
 dew-tears of gladness glistening upon their eyelids/ 
 
 ' Oh, Theobald, what will become of us when you 
 are gone V cries out Robert Emmett, a boy of 
 seventeen. ' You carry hope with you in the folds 
 of your mantle. Once gone, we shall be left in 
 darkness, groping/ 
 
 Tone shuddered, and fought with himself against 
 presentiment. 
 
 1 1 have watched over the cradle of Liberty/ he 
 whispered, dreamily. l God forbid that I should 
 ever see its hearse/ Then passing his palm across 
 his eyes as if to shut out a nightmare, he said, 
 laying a hand on the broad shoulder of a young 
 man beside him, ' Courage, boy Robert ! True, I 
 go from you. But here is the Elisha who shall take 
 up the mantle which I leave a legacy with Hope 
 wrapped in it. Look up to your brother Thomas, 
 Robert — the wise and prudent, the sage man in 
 counsel. Follow him as you have followed me; 
 faithfully, truly, till I return. For I shall return, if 
 God so wills it, I promise you. This night I sail 
 for America, but am under no promise to stay there. 
 I shall make my way to France, and lay our 
 grievances at the feet of the Directory. There is
 
 BANISHMENT. 83 
 
 nothing for it but to amputate the right hand of 
 England. Oh, how I hate the name of the thrice 
 accursed ! France is the surgeon who shall do the 
 job. I would fain give a toast before I go, if 
 Doreen will lend the flask she hugs so carefully/ 
 
 ' It is for your journey, Theobald/ was Doreen's 
 soft answer. 
 
 ' Never mind me/ he returned, with assumed 
 gaiety. c Let us pour a last libation to our common 
 mother/ 
 
 A man who had been spreading his great length- 
 upon the grass, now jumped up with an oath. A 
 giant he was ; evidently, from his dress, belonging to 
 the half-mounted class. His big kindly flat face 
 was shaded by a Beresford bobwig, under which 
 twinkled a pair of roguish eyes set in a sallow skin. 
 His buckskin breeches were worn and greasy ; his 
 half-jack-boots were adorned with huge silver 
 spurs ; while a faded scarlet vest (fur-trimmed, 
 though it was summer) closed over his broad 
 chest ; and a square-cut snuff-coloured coat, with 
 all the cloth in it, hung from his brawny shoulders. 
 
 1 Theobald V he shouted, in a voice which sent 
 the owls whirling seaward, ' you shall not go from 
 us. Why not lie hidden somewhere, and direct us 
 still ? Can we not be trusted to keep the secret ? 
 You look at things too blackly. We need no 
 French help, but can win our way as the Volunteers 
 did — by moral force ; or if we must fight, can quite 
 look after ourselves. Don't tell me. These English 
 are not ogres/ 
 
 6—2
 
 84 MY LORDS OF ST ROGUE. 
 
 'Oh, stay with us, dear Theobald V cried eagerly 
 Kobert Emmett, the boy of seventeen. f Cassidy is 
 right. We will have no help from France — for 
 that would imply bloodshed — the blood of our 
 own brethren — and the curse of God is upon 
 fratricide/ 
 
 Tone shook his head, and answered bluntly : 
 
 ( No ! That was all very well twelve years since; 
 but the day for a peaceful revolution's past. On 
 the heads of those who forced us to seek foreign 
 aid shall the blood-curse be. Our omelette can't be 
 made without a breaking of eggs. For three years 
 we've dribbled in and out of Newgate and Kil- 
 mainham, and know all their holes and corners, and 
 dread neither prison any more. We must strike, 
 and that sharply, but are not strong enough alone.' 
 
 ' Theobald !' observed Mr. Curran, from his 
 grass-knoll, ' it's a Upas-tree you've planted. 
 Take heed lest it blight the land.' 
 
 ' We must not be led away by a morbid anxiety 
 about a little life,' rejoined the apostle. ' I go a 
 solitary wanderer, but shall return with an army at 
 my back — and then !' He paused, as though 
 delving into futurity, and the prospect which he saw 
 upon its mirror was reassuring ; for with new 
 courage he turned to his band and said : ( Keep 
 together, Protestant and Catholic, for U Union fait 
 la Force, and Britain will try to divide you. Come 
 what may, hold on by one another. Thomas 
 Emmet, old friend ! as a literary man and editor 
 of the " Press," it is your duty to keep this before the
 
 BANISHMENT. 85 
 
 public. Study the tactics of the foe, that one by- 
 one they may be exposed in time. And you, Cas- 
 sidy/ he continued, laying a hand tenderly on the 
 giant's arm, f keep watch over your too ingenuous 
 nature, lest you find yourself betrayed. In your 
 way you are a clever fellow, but, like most people of 
 your bulk, unduly innocent. I speak with loving 
 authority to you, for is not your sister my dear wife, 
 who, next to Erin, holds all my heart ? You are too 
 servile to Lord Clare, Cassidy, who, himself an 
 Irishman, is the bitterest enemy that Ireland ever 
 had. Beware lest he twist you to his purpose, for 
 the undoing* of us all. You are also on too intimate 
 terms with Sirr — the town-major — that shameful 
 jackal of my Lord Clare's/ 
 
 ' You would not suspect me, Theobald V cried 
 the giant, ruefully. l Pm not more wise than others, 
 but I mean well/ 
 
 ' No, indeed V returned his brother-in-law. 
 1 Would to God that we had more such hearts as 
 yours amongst us ! But keep watch and ward, lest 
 you be overreached, for you are simple/ 
 
 ' My Lord Clare is partial to me, and tells me 
 many things/ apologised the giant, with a twinkle 
 in his eye. ( Maybe Fm not so stupid as I look, 
 and can unravel a fact from a careless hint. As 
 for Sirr, I don't care two pins for him ; yet who 
 knows how useful he may prove to us ? He has 
 apartments in the Castle — is hand and glove with 
 Secretary Cooke ; through him we may be able to 
 tamper with the soldiery, turning the arms of
 
 86 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 Government against itself, for the town-major is no 
 man of straw/ 
 
 But Tone shook his head. 
 
 1 It is ill dealing with traitors' weapons,' he 
 retorted. ' In a passage of wits, you will certainly 
 be worsted, for you are too open, too blundering/ 
 
 Cassidy looked demurely at the rest, with his 
 whimsical half-smile, as though to ask whether this 
 verdict on his character were a compliment or not ; 
 and handsome Doreen smiled back on him in her 
 grave way as she handed the flask and cup to Tone, 
 and twined her arm round Sara Currants waist. 
 
 A pretty picture were these two girls — who 
 loitered a little amongst the darkling flowers, while 
 Tone was speaking his farewell. Doreen had ful- 
 filled the promise of her childhood, and was now a 
 statuesque woman of two-and-twenty, with rich 
 warm blood mantling under an olive skin — soft eyes 
 of the brown colour of a mountain stream, shaded 
 by long silken lashes — and an aquiline nose whose 
 nostrils were as finely cut and sensitive as were her 
 aunt's. People wondered where she got her scornful 
 look, for Mr. Arthur Wolfe (attorney-general now) 
 was the most peaceable and quiet of men, while all 
 the world knew that her retiring mother had faded 
 from excess of meekness. Her aunt, Lady Glan- 
 dore, had watched her growth approvingly, for the 
 tall supple form was what her own had been- — as 
 was the swan-like neck and head-toss. She ap- 
 proved and seemed quite to like her niece till she 
 remembered that she was a Papist and a blot on
 
 BANISHMENT. 87 
 
 the escutcheon ; then she despised her, yet never 
 dared to touch forbidden ground save in a covert 
 Way ; for Doreen had a temper, when roused, as self- 
 asserting as her own, and her aunt was grown old 
 before her time ; too old to rise without an effort at 
 the sound of the war-trumpet. 
 
 Doreen was dutiful to her aunt in most things ; 
 but on the subject of her oppressed religion was a 
 very tigress. If Lady Glandore permitted herself 
 too broad a sally, those eyes with the strongly- 
 marked black pupils would shoot forth a cairngorm 
 flame — that mass of dark brown hair which hung 
 in natural curls after the Irish fashion down her 
 back, would shake like a lion's crest, and my lady 
 would retire from the field discomfited. Yet this 
 occurred but seldom, and folks could only guess 
 how the Penal Code burned into her flesh by a cer- 
 tain unnatural quietude and an artificial repose of 
 manner beyond her years. 
 
 Of course she adored Tone, the champion who 
 had wrecked his life on behalf of three million serfs 
 who were her brethren, and under his guidance be- 
 came quite a little conspirator, niece though she 
 was of an ultra-Protestant grandee, daughter of the 
 attorney-general, who, as such, was crown prose- 
 cutor of her allies. It may be asked, how came her 
 aunt to permit the girl to form such dangerous ties ? 
 The damsel was wayward, and the aunt a victim of 
 some secret canker, over which she brooded more 
 and more as her hair blanched. A hard tussle or 
 two, and practically she lowered her standard. The
 
 88 MY LORDS OF ST ROGUE. 
 
 girl went whither she listed, and chose as bosom 
 friend Sara Curran, daughter of the member of 
 parliament, to whom her father was deeply attached - r 
 and who had on the occasion of her uncle's tragic 
 end struck up a queer friendship with her aunt> 
 which flourished by reason of its incongruity. 
 
 Doreen, from the time she could first toddle, had 
 been accustomed to scour the country on ponyback 
 in company with her cousins, and these rides — 
 more frequently than not — had for object the Priory 
 — a comfortable nest which Curran had taken to 
 himself near Eathfarnham — where they were re- 
 galed on tea and cakes by little Sara, the lawyer's 
 baby child. Sara and Doreen became fast friends 
 as they grew up — the faster probably because 
 Doreen, who was the elder by several years, was 
 strong as the sapling oak, while Sara was clinging 
 like the honeysuckle. 
 
 Of course Curran, whose business kept him for 
 many hours daily in the courts of law and House 
 of Commons, could desire no better companion for 
 his pet than the niece of the Countess of Glandore — 
 the daughter of his friend and superior, Arthur 
 "Wolfe ; and so as her cousins grew into men and 
 left her more and more alone, she frequented 
 more and more the Priory, where no one mocked 
 her faith, and where she frequently met Theo- 
 bald. 
 
 Wolfe- Tone and the Emmetts met frequently at 
 Curran's, and their large-minded talk and broad 
 generous views seemed to her like the wind which
 
 BANISHMENT. 89 
 
 has passed over seaweed, compared with her aunt's 
 narrow drone, the vain self-vaunting of my Lord 
 Clare, the drunken ribaldry and coarse jests of her 
 cousin Lord Glandore. So she, in her goldlaced 
 riding-habit, had come too to the tryst that she 
 might look on her hero once again j and for pro- 
 priety's sake had brought as escort Papa Curran 
 and gentle Sara, who, though only sixteen, was 
 alread} r casting timid sheep's-eyes at the younger 
 of the two Emmetts — a srownsman at this time in 
 the University. 
 
 Bashful Sara had relapsed into tears several 
 times during Tone's discourse — a pale, fair, pretty 
 creature she was, with a dazzling skin and light- 
 blue eyes — and showed symptoms of hysteria when 
 the patriot proposed a final libation. Not that she 
 had any reason for emotion (such as Doreen might 
 with more reason have displayed), being the eye- 
 apple of a prosperous barrister who professed the 
 dominant faith ; but she knew that young Robert, 
 whose shoes she would have knelt and kissed, was 
 deeply bitten with the prevailing mania, and maybe 
 she had besides a dim presentiment of the trouble 
 which was to pour later upon her head and his. Be 
 that as it may, she sank upon the ground now and 
 sobbed, while Tone held forth the cup which Doreen 
 had filled with a steady hand. 
 
 { A toast, dear friends — the last we may drink 
 together V he said ; and gazed on the plashing 
 waters, which glowed with the last gleam of the sun 
 that was no more. ' I give you Mother Erin ! May
 
 ■90 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 she soon be decked in green ribbons by a French, 
 milliner V 
 
 Again and again did Doreen, a calm Hebe, fill 
 the goblet, which was drained by each man present 
 with a murmured 'Amen V 
 
 The sun had died behind the Wicklow hills ; 
 still the Protestant chimes brayed fitfully across the 
 sea, though the cannon at dusk were silent. Far 
 off from the direction of Strogue Abbey came a 
 noise of galloping hoofs, which grew gradually 
 louder and louder, while every man looked at his 
 neighbour as though expecting some new misfor- 
 tune. No wonder they were uneasy, for their 
 proceedings were watched, and a new disaster 
 happened daily. Presently Mr. Curran, established 
 as vidette, descried a well-known horseman, who 
 pulled up sharply in the road, and dismounting, 
 vaulted lightly over the wall. 
 
 ' Terence P he exclaimed with mixed feelings, as 
 he beheld a finely-grown young man, whose round 
 iace was remarkable for mobile eyebrows, a fearless 
 <eye, and puckers of fun about a sensitive mouth, 
 ' what are you doing here ? Be off V 
 
 ' Yes, Terence/ returned a cheery voice, ( or 
 Councillor Crosbie, if you please, since I have the 
 honour now to act as your worship's junior. 
 Where's Tone ? Not gone. Thank goodness ! I 
 must clasp the dear lad's hand before he goes/ 
 
 Mr. Curran shook his mane back like a retriever 
 that has bathed, which was a trick he had when 
 worried.
 
 BANISHMENT. 91 
 
 ' Donkey ! what do you here V he grumbled. 
 * Are we not fools enough without you ? You be- 
 long to another race, which has nought in common 
 with our troubles. Take my advice, and just trot 
 home again. If you want to be silly, join the 
 Cherokees as your brother has, or the Blasters, or 
 the Hellfires. Leave plotting to the children of the 
 soil/ 
 
 The young man, who was good-looking, with the 
 comeliness which a fresh complexion gives, showed 
 his white teeth, and broke into a merry laugh. 
 
 ' In an evil temper/ he remarked. e Gone with- 
 out dinner, eh ? If I am not a drunkard and a 
 gambler, whose fault is it, sir, but yours ? Who 
 taught me that as a younger son I have my way to 
 carve through life ? Who made me choose the Bar ? 
 Who superintended my studies, and gave a helping 
 hand ? You — you cross Curran ! and, believe me, 
 I'm not ungrateful, though a bit more idle than 
 you like/ 
 
 ' Then get you gone, and leave us to our folly/ 
 was the testy rejoinder. ' I won't have your mother 
 saying some day that I brought her boy to danger, 
 and instilled ideas into his vacant mind which put 
 his neck in danger/ 
 
 c Fiddlededee ! ' laughed the good-humoured 
 •scapegrace. ' You are no more a conspirator than I. 
 Why are you here, and why have you brought my 
 -cousin if awful rites are going forward V 
 
 1 Because I'm an ass V growled the other. ' Con- 
 spirator — why not, pray ? My heart is sick when
 
 92 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 I look round me. Why should I not be maddened 
 as others are ? Do I love Erin less ? Doreen be- 
 longs through her religion to the people, and it is 
 fitting she should sorrow with them. Yes, it is 
 maddening V he pursued, kindling suddenly, and 
 breaking through the crust in which for prudence' 
 sake he cased himself, as the thoughts over which 
 he had been brooding took form. ' What is tc be- 
 come of us ? It would have been merciful if 
 Spencer's desire had been gratified, and the land 
 turned into a seapool. Our travail is long, and 
 endeth not. Our master gives us a hangman and a 
 taxgatherer; what more should such as we require ? 
 His laws are like shoes sent forth for exportation. 
 'Twere idle to take our measures, for if they pinch 
 us, what matters it ? We stand between a social 
 Scylla and Charybdis. Poets and visionaries, like 
 this poor fool here, work on the hare-brained people, 
 whose craving for freedom is whetted to voracity; 
 and, led by the blind, they tumble into traps, at 
 which a less ardent nation would be moved to* 
 laughter. Temerity, despair, annihilation — that is 
 the mot d'ordre. See if I am not a true prophet. 
 And the luxurious nobles — do they help with their 
 counsel? Not they! Their twin-gods are their 
 belly and their lust. They have nothing in common 
 with the people/ 
 
 ' The French shall drive them into the sea/ re- 
 marked Tone, placidly. 
 
 c The French, the French V retorted Curran. 
 ' Much good may they do us ! A revolution achieved
 
 BANISHMENT. 93 
 
 by sucli means would merely mean a change of 
 masters. You live in a fool's paradise, Theobald. 
 I can see farther into futurity than you, for Pm 
 older, worse luck. I see a time coming — nay, it's 
 close at hand— when a spectre will be set up and 
 nicknamed Justice; which, if God wills, it shall be 
 my mission to tear down. Yet what may I do with, 
 my little weight ? A mean weak man with feeble 
 health. May I be the log to stop the wheels of 
 the triumphal car ? Verily, the ways of Heaven 
 are inscrutable !' 
 
 It was rarely that the little advocate spoke out so 
 plainly. His friends knew that he ever regarded 
 his country with, the idolatry of a lover, that to her 
 he gave freely all he had to give; through the 
 stages of her pride, her hope, her struggles and 
 despondency, his heart was hers for better and for 
 worse ; and therefore many marvelled that, actively, 
 he should have held aloof from the patriot band. 
 Nobody could charge him with cowardice. Terence 
 himself had never solved this mystery, although as 
 bis junior he saw more than most of the workings 
 of Currants mind. He had wondered at his chief's 
 coldness in a careless way, till now, when it became 
 patent to him, as to the rest, that Curran's second 
 sight beheld the possibility of state trials in the 
 future, where one would be needed to stand up for 
 the accused whose heart was steadfast, whose 
 courage was indomitable. Terence felt sure his 
 chief was wrong — the beardless are always wisest 
 in their own esteem — for to the honest boy it
 
 94 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 seemed impossible that Albion could be so- 
 
 Yet the notion was grand that, despising dig- 
 nities, the little lawyer should be keeping himself in 
 reserve for a Herculean labour, that he should be 
 deliberately laying himself out to stand by those 
 whom others would desert ; and so, to the knot of 
 bystanders in the gloaming, the ugly pigmy of a 
 man appeared sublime, as he sat in an attitude of 
 profound dejection, with the sweat of strong emotion 
 in beads upon his forehead and on the black elf- 
 locks of his untidy hair. 
 
 The jolly giant Cassidy rapped out a huge oath, 
 and vowed with a string of expletives that he should 
 be ' shillooed ' forthwith. The Emmett brothers 
 fairly wept \ tears stood in the eyes of the statuesque 
 Doreen; Theobald knelt down before him on the 
 dewy grass, and entreated a farewell blessing ere 
 he went. 
 
 ' The Lord bless and keep you, my poor friend !* 
 Curran whispered in a broken voice. ' Whether 
 He wills that you should die an exile, or that you 
 should return to us with glory, God be with you ! 
 May it never be my lot to stand up in court for 
 you ! or if it must be so, may inspired words be 
 given me to save you from your danger ! Now we 
 must be separating, or we'll have the Castle spies 
 on us.' 
 
 Followed by many a God-speed Tone vanished in 
 the darkness. All listened to his retreating steps, 
 wondering when and how they might ever meet
 
 BANISHMENT. 9S 
 
 again. Curran heaved a sigh, and was the cynical 
 man of the world once more, with the dancing eye 
 and whimsical half- melancholy smile, who threw all 
 the judges on circuit into convulsions with his wit, 
 and stirred the jury to unseemly laughter. 
 
 1 Terence/ he said, linking his arm in that of his 
 junior, while the young ladies, helped by the 
 Emmetts, mounted their horses, ' you were wrong to 
 come here. My lady will be angry if you mix with 
 the common riffraff. What would you say if she 
 pulled her purse-strings tight, you extravagant 
 young* dog ? The idea of one of your birth worry- 
 ing himself about the people's wrongs is of course 
 preposterous ; therefore, to please your mother, you 
 had best give them a wide berth. My Lord Clare 
 shall get you a snug post with nothing to do, and 
 vast emoluments such as becomes a lord's brother, 
 and then you'll be rich and independent in no time, 
 while I am still prosing over briefs.' 
 
 Terence, in whose face the wicked Glandore ex- 
 pression was tempered by good-nature, was not 
 pleased with the banter of his chief, for his cousin 
 was at his elbow, who always persisted in looking 
 on him as a boy, though he was a great fellow of 
 four-and-twenty who was constantly arraying him- 
 self in gorgeous clothes to please her. A tanta- 
 lising cousin was Miss Doreen to him ; suggesting 
 broidered capes and becoming ruffles when amiably 
 disposed, which, when with pain and grief he got 
 them made, received no notice from her whatsoever. 
 He chose to imagine that he was desperately in love
 
 96 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 with the beautiful Miss Wolfe, aud was proud of his 
 passion, though she laughed at him. Vainly he 
 sighed ; yet no worm fed upon his damask cheek. 
 Albeit he pretended to be very wretched, he was 
 not ; for his life was before him and he enjoyed it 
 thoroughly, and was the victim of an amazing 
 appetite, and would probably have forgotten all 
 about Miss Wolfe in a week (though he would have 
 smitten you with a big stick if you dared to hint as 
 much) if her lithe figure had been removed from 
 his sight for that brief period. Sometimes he took 
 it into his head that she fancied Shane, and then he 
 was pierced through and through with jealousy, for 
 the brothers never could get on, and the younger 
 one knew my lord to be not only thick of skull, but 
 drunken and dissolute too, even beyond the average 
 of his compeers ; a fire-eater, whose hand was never 
 off his sword, who cared more for dogs than women, 
 more for himself than either, and who as a husband 
 would be certain to bring misery upon the girl. 
 Then again he would be consoled for an instant by 
 the reflection that it does not answer at all for 
 first cousins to marry; and then his longings 
 would get the better of him, as he marked the 
 wealth of the brown hair which had a golden ripple 
 through it, the finely developed bust, the eyes like 
 peatwater. She was interesting, and his heart was 
 soft. He watched her furtively sometimes in her 
 fits of sadness ; when she sat behind a tambour at 
 the Strogue hall -window, gazing, with eyes that saw 
 nothing, at the fishing-boats upon the bay, as they
 
 BANISHMENT. 97 
 
 splashed along with, yellow sails and clumsy oars 
 upon their mirrored doubles, till tears fell one by 
 one upon her work, like thunderdrops upon a 
 window-pane ; and he could tell that she was dream- 
 ing of her people. Then his heart yearned towards 
 Doreen. He longed to seize her in his lusty arms, 
 crying : 
 
 ( My beloved ! I am poor, and you are rich ' 
 {for Mr. Wolfe had put by a cosy nest-egg). 
 e Our tastes are simple. I will try to live upon love 
 and my allowance. You shall keep all your fortune 
 to yourself — only be mine, my very own V But 
 somehow he never said the words, for something 
 told him that she would only smile, and on second 
 thoughts he was glad he had not spoken. 
 
 It would have been wrong in her to scoff, for the 
 proposal would have been as unusual as disinte- 
 rested ; but girls will laugh at improper moments. 
 Miss Wolfe was an heiress as times went, and 
 likely to be richer; impecunious squires and 
 squireens were legion; and the abduction clubs 
 not yet quite stamped out. This, indeed, was one 
 reason why she spent most of her time at Strogue 
 instead of with her father in Dublin ; for he, easy- 
 going in most things, was painfully alive to the possi- 
 bility of finding his daughter stolen one day when 
 he was in court, to be bucketed about the country 
 without a change of linen till his reluctant con- 
 sent was wrung to a match with some ne'er-do- 
 well. 
 
 At Strogue such a thing could hardly happen, for 
 
 vol. 1. 7
 
 98 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 the prestige of the Glandores was hedged about with 
 terror, and every ne'er-do-well knew that to play- 
 Paris to the Helen of the fair Doreen — to carry her 
 off from the sanctuary of Strogue Abbey — would 
 be to call down dolorous reprisals from her two 
 stalwart cousins. 
 
 So, having her constantly before his vision, 
 Terence adored the damsel wildly by fils and starts, 
 hating her when she snubbed him, taking a loyal 
 interest, for her sake, in the Penal Code and the 
 United Irishmen ; and was not aware that he stood 
 on the verge of the political maelstrom, in whose 
 eddies so many good Irishmen had come to drown- 
 ing. 
 
 Terence professed in nowise to be a patriot. He 
 said openly that the United Irishmen deceived them- 
 selves, that they were fond of inventing imaginary 
 terrors, that Lord Clare, though personally he dis- 
 liked him, was an estimable statesman, the right 
 man in the right place. Doreen was angry with him 
 at times for this. Then he had an excuse for kissing 
 her to make it up, for the flash from her grave eyes 
 was only summer lightning. But to be accused of 
 mercenary motives, even in banter, was quite another 
 thing, because all the world knew that the Irish 
 aristocracy, as a body, did not shine in the way of 
 unselfishness, and Terence's nature was too open 
 and honest, his carelessness as to money too deep- 
 seated, for him to feel aught but disgust at being 
 coupled with the pensioners. It was not true that 
 he was mercenary, but it might easily have been so.
 
 BANISHMENT. 99 
 
 Who knows what might have been if my lady had 
 not proved liberal — a kind mother ? Many are 
 virtuous so long as they are not tempted. Yes. 
 You will doubtless be surprised to hear that my lady 
 had worked no evil to her second son. Madam 
 Gillin's singular office had for the space of twelve 
 years been a sinecure. The Countess never refused 
 him money when he asked for it, and was appa- 
 rently a model mother to the youth, though she 
 certainly showed a strong partiality for Shane, 
 which may be accounted for by the fact that mothers 
 invariably doat upon their prodigals, and milord 
 resembled his father not a little. 
 
 Now Curran, being quite at home at the Abbey, 
 knew all these ins and outs and petty details. 
 Terence's indignation, therefore, amused him. He 
 burst into a peal of merriment when the young 
 man asked, tartly, what he meant by his insinua- 
 tions. 
 
 ' I know Lord Clare offered me a place,' he said, 
 with a side- glance of apology at his cousin; ' but I 
 refused it with disdain. Though he's a worthy man 
 I don't like him, because he orders us about, and I 
 would not be under any obligation to him for the 
 world. My mother's too fond of the chan- 
 cellor ' 
 
 ' What if you were assured that he's a traitor V 
 Curran asked, with mock gravity. 
 
 ' I'd become a United Irishman to upset him V 
 returned the prompt scapegrace. 
 
 ( Nonsense !' replied his friend, growing serious. 
 
 7—2
 
 ioo MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 ( No, no. It's an ill subject for jesting. Treason is 
 a dangerous pastime, which it behoves you to keep 
 clear of for the sake of your noble name. Don't 
 forget that, being half an Englishman, half of your 
 allegiance is due to the British Crown — at least so 
 the Lords think. With us it's different. To try the 
 bird, the spur must touch his blood. Come, let's 
 be off. Good-night, boys !' 
 
 And so the conference terminated. 
 
 The elder Emmett rode moodily to Dublin, con- 
 cocting inflammatory articles for the benefit of the 
 newspaper which he edited, reflecting too, not with- 
 out misgivings, upon the mantle which had fallen, 
 unbidden, on his shoulders. Robert, his excitable 
 brother, walked home to Trinity College with elastic 
 step, his brain still whirling with the outlaw's part- 
 ing words. The rest were bound for Strogue, where 
 my lady sat wondering, no doubt, what could keep 
 them out so late. Cassidy, who was a good singer, 
 and amusing in other ways, had been invited to the 
 Abbey by Terence. As for Curran and his daugh- 
 ter, they often sojourned there, and were certain of 
 a hearty welcome, for their own sake now, as well as 
 Arthur Wolfe's. 
 
 None of the party spoke as they cantered briskly 
 by the shore.- Curran was upbraiding himself for 
 want of caution in betraying his true sentiments 
 even to close friends. Few saw as far as he, and 
 the very air of Innisfail breathed treachery. His 
 daughter, gentle Sara, whose fair locks clustered 
 like silk cocoons about her baby-face, was in an
 
 BANISHMENT. 101 
 
 ecstatic trance as she bumped up and down on her 
 rough pony. 
 
 What signified bumps, when the subject of her 
 thoughts was Robert, the dear, delightful under- 
 graduate ? She would have bumped all the world 
 over for him, though she was modesty itself, and he 
 oblivious that she existed. It was pleasant to think 
 that he, at least, was bound by no rash oath. It 
 would be a sweet task, if possible, to keep him from 
 the toils. 
 
 Doreea rode ahead, plunged in one of her sad 
 moods, as she thought of the future of the wanderer, 
 who had given up all he possessed in the world to 
 bring about the freeing of her people. Might any 
 woman's platonic worship make good that loss to 
 him ? Would she ever see him again, and under 
 what circumstances ? 
 
 Terence read her thoughts, and was cross at her 
 devotion to this outlaw, a condition of mind which 
 even he perceived was not proper in a well-brought- 
 up young lady. Of course everybody respected 
 Tone, and liked him, too, for his excellent qualities. 
 She could not marry him, that was one comfort, for 
 he was already married to the sister of this great 
 hulking giant, Cassidy, who chirruped out scraps of 
 song as though Erin was the most prosperous of 
 motherlands. But it certainly seemed wrong, to the 
 sage youth, that a handsome young woman should 
 be on confidential terms with so many strange young 
 men. Her aunt, he knew, objected to it strongly, 
 but unaccountably held her peace. Then he laughed,
 
 102 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 in spite of his displeasure, at the conceit of any one 
 interfering with Doreen — the demure damsel who 
 pursued her calm way, enslaving all and taking note 
 of none, as though she had taken vows of perpetual 
 maidenhood — had cut herself adrift for the role of a 
 Jeanne d'Arc.
 
 s 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 STROGUE ABBEY. 
 
 HE home of the Grlandores on Dublin 
 Bay is a unique place, perched on rising 
 ground, shaded by fine old timber. 
 Originally an ecclesiastical establish- 
 ment, it was turned into a fortress by Sir Amorey 
 Crosbie in 1177, and has been altered and gutted, 
 and rebuilt, with here a wing and here a bay, and 
 there a winding staircase, or mysterious recess, to 
 suit the whim of each succeeding owner, till it has 
 swelled into a stunted honeycomb of meandering 
 suites of rooms, whose geography puzzles a straDger 
 on his first visit there. The only portions of it which 
 remain intact, are (as may be seen by the great 
 thickness of the walls) the hall, a long, low, narrow 
 space, panelled in black oak and ceiled in squares ; 
 the huge kitchen, where meat might be roasted for 
 an army; and the duugeons below ground. The 
 remaining rooms (many of them like monkish cells)
 
 104 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 are of every shape and pattern, alike only in having 
 heavy casement frames set with diamond panes, 
 enormous obstinate doors, which creak and moan, 
 declining to close or open unless violently coerced, 
 and worm-eaten floors that slope in every freak of 
 crooked line except the normal horizontal one. In- 
 deed, the varied levels of the bedroom floor (there is 
 but one storey) are so wildly erratic, that a visitor, 
 who wakes for the first time in one of the pigeon- 
 holes that open one on the other, like the alleys of a 
 rabbit warren, clings instinctively to his bedclothes 
 as people do afc sea, and, on second thoughts, is 
 seized with a new panic lest the house be about to 
 fall — an idle fear, as my lady is fond of showing ; for 
 the cyclopean rafters, that were laid in their places 
 by the crumbled monks, are hard and black as iron, 
 so seasoned by sea-air that they will possibly stand 
 good so long as Ireland remains above the water. 
 A gloomier abode than this it is scarce possible to 
 picture; for the window-sashes are of exceeding 
 clumsiness, the ornamentation of a ponderous flam- 
 boyancy in which all styles are twisted, without 
 regard for canons, into curls and scrolls ; and yet 
 there is a blunt cosiness about the ensemble which 
 seems to say, ' Here at least you are safe. If Dublin 
 Bay were full of hostile ships, the adjacent land 
 teeming with the enemy in arms, they might batter 
 on for ever. They might beat at our portals till the 
 last trump should summon them to more important 
 business, but our panels would never budge. 
 
 On approaching the Abbey by the avenue, you are
 
 STROGUE ABBEY. 105 
 
 not aware of it — so masked is it by trees and ivy — 
 till a sharp turn brings you upon a gravelled quad- 
 rangle, three sides of which are closed in by walls, 
 while the fourth is marked out by a row of statues 
 (white nymphs with pitchers), whose background is 
 the chameleon sea. Directly facing these figures — 
 at the opposite end of the square, that is — a short 
 wide flight of steps, and a low terrace paved with 
 coloured marbles, lead to the front entrance. The 
 left side of the quadrangle is the * Young Men's 
 Wing/ sacred to whips and fishing-tackle, pierced 
 by separate little doors for convenience on hunting 
 mornings — two sets of separate chambers, in fact, 
 which may be entered without passing through the 
 hall ; and above them is the armoury, a neglected 
 museum of rusty swords and matchlocks, an eyrie 
 of ghosts and goblins, which is never disturbed by 
 household broom. The right side is bounded by a 
 close-clipped ivied wall, pierced by an archway which 
 gives access to the stables and the kennels, ended 
 by a mouldering turret, converted long since into a 
 water-tower. 
 
 The grand hall, low and dark as it is with sable 
 oak and stiff limnings of dead Crosbies, occupies 
 the whole length and width of the central portion of 
 the house, or rather of the narrow band which joins 
 the two side blocks together. You may learn, by 
 looking at the time -discoloured map which hangs 
 over its sculptured mantelpiece, that the ground- 
 plan of the Abbey is shaped like the letter H, whose 
 left limb forms the young men's wing, the offices,
 
 io6 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 and dining-room ; whose right limb is made up of 
 my lady's bedroom, the staircase vestibule, and the 
 reception saloons ; while the grand hall, or portrait 
 gallery, reproduces the connecting bar. Five steps, 
 with a curiously-carved banister, lead out of the 
 grand hall at either end ; that to the left opening 
 into the dining-room — a finely-proportioned cham- 
 ber, panelled from floor to ceiling with trophies of 
 rusty armour breaking its sombre richness ; that 
 to the right communicating with my lady's bed- 
 room, painted apple-green with arabesques of gold, 
 which is chiefly remarkable for luxuriously-cushioned 
 window-seats, from whence a fine view may be ob- 
 tained of the operations in the stable-yard. The 
 late lord used to sip his chocolate here in brocaded 
 morning-gown and nightcap, haranguing his 
 whipper-in and bullying the horse-boys, or tossing 
 scraps to favourite hounds as they were trotted by 
 for his inspection ; and my lady has continued the 
 practice through her widowhood, for it gratifies her 
 vanity, as chatelaine, to watch the numberless 
 grooms and lacqueys, the feudal array of servants and 
 retainers. An odd nest for a lady, no doubt ; but 
 the countess chooses to inhabit it, she says, till her 
 sou brings home a bride, for the late lord sent for 
 Italian workmen to decorate it according- to her 
 taste, and in it she will remain till the hour for abdi- 
 cation shall arrive. 
 
 A second door, at right angles to my lady's, opens 
 from the hall on to the staircase with its heraldic 
 flight of beasts ; beyond this is the chintz drawing-
 
 STROGUE ABBEY. 107 
 
 room, a cheery pale-tinted chamber which Doreen 
 has taken to herself as a boudoir, although it is 
 practically no better than a passage-room leading to 
 the tapestried saloons. She likes it for its bright- 
 ness, and because it looks out on the garden front, 
 known as ' Miss Wolfe's Plot/ a little square fenced 
 in at one end by the hall, on the further side by the 
 dining-room, while at the other end there is a tall 
 gilt grille of florid design, through which you may 
 wander, if it pleases you, into the pleasaunce. This 
 small quaint enclosure is Doreen's favourite haunt. 
 She has laid it out with her own hands in strange 
 devices of pebbles and clipped box, with a crazy 
 sun-dial for a centre, and sits there for hours with 
 needlework that advances not, dreaming sombrely, 
 and sighing now and then, as her eyes travel along 
 the cut beech hedges, smooth leafy walls, which 
 spread inland in vistas beyond the golden gate, like 
 the arms of some giant starfish. These hedges are 
 the most remarkable things about a very remarkable 
 abode. They are each of them half a mile long, 
 thirty-six feet high, and twelve feet thick, perforated 
 at intervals by arches; and they form together a 
 series of triangular spaces sheltered from sea-blasts, 
 in which flourish such a wealth of roses as is a 
 marvel to all comers. 
 
 Obese, old-fashioned roses, as big as your fist, 
 hang in cataracts from tottering posts which once 
 were orchard trees ; large pink blossoms or bunches 
 of small white ones, whose perfume weighs down the 
 air; balls of glorious colour, which, when a rare
 
 108 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 breeze shakes them, shower their sweet petals in a 
 lazy swirl upon the grass, whence Doreen gleans 
 and harvests them for winter, with cunning condi- 
 ments, in jars. From time to time the perfume 
 varies, as the wind sets E. or W., from that of Araby 
 the blest to one of the salt sea — a tarry, seaweedy, 
 nautico- piratical odour, with a strong dash of brine 
 in it, which seems wafted upward from below to 
 remind the dwellers in the Abbey of their long line 
 of corsair ancestors. 
 
 The most sumptuous of all the apartments is un- 
 doubtedly the tapestried saloon, nicknamed by 
 wags my lady's presence-chamber ; for there, look- 
 ing out upon the roses, she loves to sit erect sur- 
 rounded by ghostly Crosbies whose mighty deeds 
 are recorded on the walls, portrayed by the most 
 skilful hands upon miracles of Gobelin manufacture. 
 Mr. Curran often wondered, as he played crib- 
 bage with the chatelaine, whether those deeds were 
 fabulous; for if not, he reflected, judging the 
 present by the past — then were the mighty 
 grievously come down. Here was Sir Amorey 
 alone on a spotty horse trouncing a whole army 
 with his doughty sword. There was Sir Teague at 
 the head of his Kernes, making short work of the 
 French at Agincourt. Further on the first earl — 
 prince of salt-water thieves, with a vanquished 
 Desmond grimacing underneath his heel. How 
 different were these from the present and last 
 Glandores, whose lives were filled up to overflowing* 
 with wine and with debauchery ; whose sins lacked
 
 STROGUE ABBEY. 109 
 
 the picturesque wickedness of these defunct seafaring- 
 murderers. Then, perceiving the countess's eye fixed 
 on him, her crony would feel guilty for his unflattering 
 reflections, and rapidly pursue the game • for my lady 
 as she aged grew just the least bit garrulous, and 
 as he loved not the aristocracy as such, it was 
 afflicting to listen to long-winded dissertations upon 
 the family magnificence, which he declared she 
 invented as she went along. He was never tired 
 though, when he could snatch a rare holiday from 
 his professional labours, of exploring the dungeons 
 and chimney recesses and awful holes and crannies. 
 He it was who ferreted out the long-lost secret way 
 beneath the sea from the water-tower to Ireland's 
 Eye ; and bitterly he repented later that he had not 
 kept that discovery to himself ; for by means of it 
 he might have brought about the vanishing of 
 many of the proscribed, instead of — but we travel 
 on too fast. 
 
 My lady sat upright in the tapestried saloon, mar- 
 velling that no one filled the teapot. It was with 
 a distressed amazement, like that of Louis XIV. 
 when he waited, that she stared at the silver 
 equipage, at the pathetically hissing urn. Where 
 was Doreen the tea-maker ? It was quite dark, and 
 the incorrigible damsel was still galloping about 
 .the country, who might tell whither ? It really was 
 shocking j no wonder if milady's quills of propriety 
 stood out, after the manner of the fretful one. It's 
 that drop of Papist blood, she muttered; then 
 turned to admonish her brother as to his heiress.
 
 no MY LORDS OF ST ROGUE. 
 
 But Arthur Wolfe listened without a word, for 
 he was accustomed to his sister's querulous com- 
 plaiuing, aud built a bulwark of silence against 
 her jeremiads. People said all his time was spent 
 in negative apologies for the one error of his- 
 youth; and it did look like it; for he was mar- 
 vellously patient in the face of her most tyran- 
 nical whims, listening without a struggle to end- 
 less sermons which prated of the woe to come, 
 reflecting that, poor soul, she had much to put up 
 with. Although she was reticent and mysterious to 
 an extreme degree, Arthur Wolfe knew that her 
 lines were not cast in pleasant places; for did not 
 flaunting Gillen abide at the very gates, whose 
 odious vicinity caused her to shrink as much as 
 might be from passing beyond her own domains ? 
 
 Time and this bitter pill had made of her lady- 
 ship a ' swaddler/ Like many of the oldsters of 
 the patrician order, she grew sorely repentant 
 for youthful peccadilloes, took to psalm -singing, 
 displayed strong ultra-Protestant proclivities. The 
 prejudices of a less enlightened age curtained her 
 brain with cobwebs which excluded the daylight 
 from the vermin they engendered. On this 12th of 
 July she set aside, according to custom, the pearly 
 grey which becomes her age so well, to don weird 
 orange vestments which make her look like a 
 macaw — she who is usually dressed in such perfect 
 taste in a robe of silvered satin, with snowy hair in 
 rolls unpowdered. Although she is but fifty-two, 
 my lady is a white-haired queen Bess; and handsome
 
 STROGUE ABBEY. 
 
 in an imposing way, which she never was in youth. 
 The thin nose looks higher than it used to be, and 
 pinched. The cheek is pale and marked with 
 anxious wrinkles; but the straight line of imperious 
 brow remains the same, and the eyes — netted with 
 crowsfeet — assume a more vigorous life by reason 
 of the fading of their surroundings. The Countess 
 of Glandore has in twelve years become an awful 
 dowager, before whom the cottagers shake in their 
 shoes; for to a misleading appearance of patriar- 
 chal majesty she adds a quick incisive way of 
 speech, and the bodily activity of a middle-aged 
 woman who enjoys a perfect constitution. Those 
 startled eyes tell tales, though, of a diseased mind, 
 and sleepless nights -of tossing. And she does 
 pass sleepless nights, despite the Consoler's fanning, 
 when the secret chord is struck. Then as she lies 
 on her laced pillows she sees once more the sheeted 
 body at the clubhouse, hears the last warning wail, 
 1 For my sake, for your own — that you may be 
 spared this torment V and then she lights a lamp 
 and reads angrily till daylight — loathing herself for 
 what her sound sense condemns as morbidness — 
 lest peradventure her thoughts should drive her 
 mad. Then rising with a headache and haggard 
 looks, she sits in the window-seat and feeds the 
 hounds, and reflects with stern satisfaction that the 
 odious baggage who lives in the Little House has 
 never found joints in her armour — has never caught 
 her tripping with regard to her younger son. Since 
 my lord's death no spiteful unduly-elected guardian
 
 ii2 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 could complain of the boy's treatment. Her purse 
 Lad always been open to him ; from childhood he 
 was rich in guns and ponies. But she failed suffi- 
 ciently to consider that there was one thing for 
 which the warm-hearted lad had pined and which 
 she had consistently denied him — love. It is 
 evident that we cannot bestow that which we have 
 not to give. This reproach therefore sat lightly on 
 her mind. The deficit in affection was made up 
 with bank-notes, and she bred unconsciously in 
 her second-born a recklessness in spending which his 
 after-income would by no means justify. Her 
 influence over him was small. Not that this mat- 
 tered much, for he was a bright good-natured lad, 
 such as give little serious trouble to their elders. 
 He had a way of quarrelling with Shane though, 
 which opened dread visions of possible complica- 
 tions in the future. Sometimes the brothers were 
 so near the point of open rupture, that milady had 
 to interfere, and then with undutiful fierceness my 
 lord would remind her of the oath she had herself 
 extorted, and she would be stricken dumb, cursing 
 herself for the idle folly of the act. If my lady 
 nourished old-fashioned feudal views about the con- 
 duct of one brother to another, she was clumsy in 
 her method of realising them. Terence ignored the 
 whole proceeding, and to prove his freedom kept the 
 household in a constant state of simmering breezi- 
 ness, which was more lively than comfortable. 
 Shane, on the other hand, was disposed to be be- 
 nignant if Terence would abstain from being rude.
 
 S J ROGUE ABBEY. 
 
 There was little in common between the two, and it 
 would have been odd if Shane had kept his temper 
 when Terence flogged his horse-boy, though he 
 had a private young henchman of his own. My lady 
 looked with uneasiness at the constant trivial squab- 
 blings, and was not altogether sorry, as the twain 
 grew up, to see that their tastes divided them, that 
 they met less arid less ; for Shane became engrossed 
 with the pleasures of the capital, while Curran, 
 taking a fancy for the second son, turned his atten- 
 tion to the Bar. 
 
 The young lord emancipated himself from leading- 
 strings, and became a pattern Dublin buck. He 
 wore gorgeous raiment, carried wonderful walking- 
 sticks with jewelled tops and incrusted mottoes; 
 was elected President of the Blaster and Cherokee 
 clubs, which honourable post made it his duty to 
 fight at least one duel a week, and to force quarrels 
 upon people whom he had never seen before. There 
 were several established ways (as all the world 
 knows) of bringing this about. Sometimes he sat 
 in a window and spat on the hats of passers-by, or 
 stood over a crossing pushing folks into the mire, 
 or kissed a pretty girl in the presence of her male 
 protector, or flung chicken bones from a balcony at 
 a passing horseman in full fig. His mother took 
 no heed of these vagaries ; the ways of the Glan- 
 dores had been imperious for generations. But in 
 course of time an event happened which sent the 
 blood rushing in a tumult to her heart. At a mas- 
 querade one night my lord met a maid who smote 
 
 vol. i. 8
 
 ,ii4 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 his fancy. She was cheerful, and not too modest 
 (his one terror was a lady of quality), with eyes like 
 a mouse and a good set of teeth. Her mamma, a 
 homely, buxom dame of forty, invited him home to 
 supper, and he was as surprised as charmed to dis- 
 cover that the sprightly pair were his neighbours, 
 who on account of some crotchet or other his mother 
 declined to visit. He was received with open arms ; 
 nothing could be more jolly than his welcome. 
 
 "Deed the space is limited/ mamma observed, 
 with a guffaw. ' If ye put your arm down the 
 chimbly ye could raise the door-latch ; but, sure, a 
 snug mouthful' s better than a feast any day/ 
 
 He remained toasting his hostesses till daylight ; 
 called in a week ; stopped to dinner ; was treated 
 as an honoured guest. Madam was a Papist, he 
 found out, which would account for my lady's preju- 
 dice, but my lord had no such prejudices. If a 
 young lady touch your fancy, do you ask her to say 
 her Catechism ? 
 
 When the terrible fact broke upon my lady, she 
 groaned in spirit and was stunned. The spiteful 
 baggage, baffled by her rival's exemplary conduct 
 as a mother, had hit on a new way to torture her. 
 The damsel in question was Madam Gillin's 
 daughter, who had been brought up a Protestant, 
 at the late lord's special wish. The reason for this 
 singular proceeding was only too clear. That low 
 hateful wretch, who had remained quiescent till the 
 countess was almost at ease, was still pursuing her. 
 Of course she could not be so truly wicked as to
 
 STROGUE ABBEY. 115 
 
 mean anything serious — for her own child's sake. 
 It was a sword tied over her head to force her to 
 grovel down upon her knees. But boys (specially 
 heads of houses) always begin by falling in love 
 with the wrong people. This was a transitory flir- 
 tation. Shane would grow tired of the vulgar chit. 
 Vainly my lady hoped. Then with beatings of the 
 breast it occurred to her, that as Gillin was a 
 Catholic she must of course be capable of any 
 crime. Before things attained a hopeless pitch, 
 would it be needful for my lady to bow her haughty 
 neck under Gillin' s caudine forks ? Oh ! the agony 
 of a stubborn pride which must publicly do penance! 
 Would the ruthless tormentor exact such abase- 
 ment as an exposure to her own children of the 
 insulting behaviour of their father ? Would it be 
 requisite to crave a boon of the too jolly tyrant ? 
 Never ! my lady decided that such humiliation might 
 never be — death would be preferable. She would 
 bide awhile and take refuge in religion, and pray 
 that the cup might in mercy be removed. 
 
 The petty annoyances which made up the sum of 
 my lady's bitterness were endless. She was in the 
 habit of bestowing broken meats upon the cottagers 
 with stately condescension, accompanied sometimes 
 with drugs. Mrs. Gillin followed suit. There were 
 two ladies bountiful in the field, and the dowager 
 sometimes came off second best ; for, as amateur 
 doctors will, she made mistakes, and killed people 
 with fresh patent medicines, whilst her rival escaped 
 active harm, because her boluses were innocent 
 
 8—2
 
 n6 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 through lengthened sleep in the village apothecary's 
 phials. So the cottagers only trembled and curtsied 
 when the chatelaine called to see them, and emptied 
 her bottles on the sly, whilst they eagerly consulted 
 Madam Gillin as to their ailments, a preference of 
 which madam made the most, when the ladies met 
 over an invalid. Faithful to her role, she never 
 spoke to the scowling dowager, but addressed 
 scathing remarks to a third person who was always 
 the companion of her wanderings — one Jug Coyle, 
 her ancient nurse, who passed with many for a 
 witch, whilst all admitted that she was a 'wise- 
 woman/ This old harridan, who was learned in the 
 use of simples, was established by her mistress in 
 a one-eyed alehouse on the verge of her little pro- 
 perty — on the outside edge of it which looked 
 towards the Abbey. The noise of roysterous shout- 
 ing there penetrated sometimes as far as my 
 lady's chamber, yet she did not complain. It was 
 one of her rival's thorns — one of the petty persecu- 
 tions which the chatelaine was doomed to bear. 
 
 Sure the late lord would have spared his widow 
 had he realised the worries which would come on 
 her by reason of the proximity of Gillin. The 
 mistress of the Little House gave excellent rowdy 
 suppers, and entertained the elite of Dublin. The 
 judges bibbed her claret, and shook the night air 
 with choruses, whereas they only paid state visits to 
 the abbey once or twice a year. Her nurse's shebeen 
 — a tumble-down festering hostelry thatched with 
 decaying straw — was no better than a dog-boy's
 
 STROGUE ABBEY. 117 
 
 boozing ken, a disgraceful try sting-place for drunken 
 soldiers, who were enticed thither by its excellent 
 poteen. Jug Coyle's shock-pated daughter Biddy 
 was a scandal to the neighbourhood, so recklessly 
 did she profess to adore sodgers ; while as far mis- 
 chief, there was none perpetrated within ten miles 
 round but that red-poled slattern was at the bottom 
 of it. By-and-by Old Jug hung out a sign, a rude 
 picture of a chained man, with c The Irish Slave ' 
 as cognizance; and after that mysterious persons 
 were seen to arrive at unseasonable hours who 
 might or might not be United Irishmen. My lady 
 knew all these doings, and hoped fervently that 
 the new clients would turn out conspirators, for in 
 that case there seemed a chance that she might 
 sweep away fhe nuisance which vexed her day by 
 day. I say she advisedly, because Shane was too 
 busily engaged as King of Cherokees, to look after his 
 property, and was only too thankful to his mother 
 for undertaking the management of the estates. 
 
 In intervals of complaining about the still absent 
 tea-maker, the countess exposed her views for the 
 hundredth time, as to the enormity of the obnoxious 
 Gillin, to her ally Lord Clare, who smiled and 
 nodded. The chancellor was a constant visitor at 
 the Abbey, riding over frequently to dinner for a 
 gossip or a game of cards with his old friend. He 
 told her the last scandal, discussed the political 
 situation, dropped hiuts about the movements of 
 the patriots, lamented the mad folly of her brother 
 Arthur's jproUg^ ; and unconsciously she came to
 
 n8 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 see things through his spectacles, living herself a 
 retired life. Not but what she heard something 
 of the other side from Mr. Curran; but then he 
 seemed to avoid these subjects, while Lord Clare 
 delighted in gloating on them. The two mortal 
 foes met frequently at the Abbey as on neutral 
 ground, and snarled and showed their teeth, and 
 thereby exemplified in their own persons one of the 
 most singular features of a society now happily 
 died away. During the last tempestuous years 
 which preceded the Union, members of all parties 
 were accustomed to meet in social intercourse, 
 dining to-day with men they would hang to- 
 morrow, even in some cases advancing funds out 
 of their own pockets to secure the escape of those 
 whom it was their duty to convict. The cause of 
 the anomaly is not far to seek. Dublin society, 
 though magnificent, was limited to a tiny circle. 
 Absenteeism being voted low, the great families be- 
 came interwoven by a series of intermarriages, 
 while they were torn at the same time by religious 
 or political dissensions. If your wife's brother 
 holds precisely opposite views to your own, and is 
 in danger of losing his head, still he is your near 
 relative, and as such you will save him from the 
 gallows if you may. It was not surprising then 
 that Mr. Curran, when at length he arrived with 
 the rest, should have courteously taken Lord Clare's 
 jewelled fingers in his own with a hope that his 
 health was good, though he loved him as dogs love 
 cats. Was he not obliged to meet him several
 
 STROGVE ABBEY. 119 
 
 times a day in the four courts, or at Daly's ? The 
 city would have been too small to hold them if they 
 had come to open strife. 
 
 My lady dropped her jeremiad when the young 
 people entered, for the Little House and its belong- 
 ings formed a mystery which they might not 
 fathom. If Shane chose to distress his mother by 
 flirting with Norah Gillin, it behoved the rest to 
 ignore his sin. Even independent Doreen, who 
 would have liked to scrape acquaintance with a co- 
 religionist, abstained from so doing lest she should 
 offend her aunt. Once, when in a passion, she 
 threatened to call at the Little House, but my lady 
 appeared so pained that she repented the idle 
 threat. 
 
 My lady looked at Lord Clare as if to bid him 
 start a subject, then shook her head at Curran for 
 keeping the girls out so late. 
 
 Lord Clare was in excellent spirits as he crossed 
 one natty stocking over the other, and, fingertip to 
 fingertip, began to purr over the virtues of the new 
 Viceroy. ( Lord Camden/ he averred, c was an angel. 
 He was open to advice. Things would have to take 
 place sooner or later which would make it essential 
 that those who governed should be of one mind. 
 The silly geese who dubbed themselves patriots 
 had received a check by the discomfiture of young 
 Tone, but the snake was scotched, not killed. They 
 would doubtless find leaders, and again leaders, 
 who would have to be crushed in turn, and Govern- 
 ment had hit on a bright idea for the simplifying of
 
 i2o MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 the process of suppression. By virtue of an English 
 law there was a foolish rule which forbade conviction 
 for treason save on the testimony of two witnesses. 
 How ponderous a piece of mechanism ! The wheels 
 of the Irish car of justice wanted greasing. Why 
 not one witness ? One dear, delightful, useful crea- 
 ture, who would come forward and say his say and 
 finish off the matter in a trice. What did Mr. Curran 
 think of it, that clever advocate V 
 
 Mr. Curran sipped his tea in silence, while his 
 dusky cheek turned dun. They would not dare 
 pass so outrageous an enactment, he reflected. 
 They would dare much, but, with the eyes of Europe 
 on them, not so much as that. The chancellor was 
 drawing him out. So he smiled sweetly, and, hand- 
 ing his cup to be refilled, observed that as Justice 
 did not live in Ireland, it would be folly to provide 
 a car for her. The spectacle of an English Viceroy 
 making believe to dally with the stranger would be 
 as astounding to Irishmen as the spectacle of a 
 horse-racing Venetian. 
 
 'Lord Clare likes his joke/ chorused the giant 
 Cassidy, ' but Curran won't be hoodwinked/ 
 
 ' I assure you I am in earnest/ declared the 
 chancellor, eyeing his foe from under alligator lids. 
 ' I protest the idea is splendid. If they are bent 
 on hanging themselves, why not give them rope ? 
 One witness, my dear Curran, would surely be 
 enough/ 
 
 ' Your joke is a bad one, my lord/ returned the 
 other, sulkily. ( There are hundreds of idle wretches,
 
 STROGUE ABBEY. 
 
 hanging round Castle-yard, who for a pittance 
 would swear anything. Is it so much trouble to 
 suborn two ? Major Sirr, your lordship's jackal, 
 would see to it, I'm sure/ 
 
 ' An admirable person !' murmured the chan- 
 cellor. 
 
 ' If he's not a villain/ retorted his enemy, ' give 
 me as offal to the curs of Ormond Quay. Cassidy 
 here was reproved only an hour ago by one whom 
 we all respect for beiug too intimate with the rascal/ 
 
 c I can only repeat/ said Cassidy, with the crump- 
 ling of skin which made his flat face so droll, ' that I 
 care nought for him, though I should be sorry if he 
 came to be put away as his paid informers often are 
 — consigned to Moileij, as the common people say. 
 It is important for a poor man like me to have a 
 frieud at court. I might be taken any day on false 
 information, and lie perdu in Newgate till my bones 
 rotted. My Lord Clare is a kind patron, but too 
 much eno-ao*ed to heed the fate of such humble 
 
 o o 
 
 squireens as I. I have no genius like Mr. Curran. 
 My disappearance would cause no hue-and-cry. We 
 must look after our own bodies, and Sirr is my 
 sheet-anchor/ 
 
 The chancellor glanced at Cassidy with a whim- 
 sical expression on his face, half curiosity, half 
 contempt, while Curran said : 
 
 1 That town-major is too much considered. Be- 
 ware, my lord, of Jacks-in-office, who, in the 
 intoxication of gratified vanity, mistake the dictates 
 of passion for the suggestions of duty, and consider
 
 122 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 that power unemployed is so much wasted. But 
 Pm a fool. Your lordship is laughing at me/ 
 
 Doreen, haviug presided over the tea-table, retired 
 to the open window, for her heart was full of Theo- 
 bald, and this chatter grated on her nerves. My lady 
 seized the opportunity to discourse of the proceed- 
 ings of the day, of how Lord Camden had marched 
 round William's statue with all his peers, and of 
 how the scum had looked stupidly at the pageant 
 with angry scowls. f I was glad to see it/ she went 
 on complacently, ' for tribulation is good for their 
 sins, and bears fruit. There have been a blessed 
 number of conversions of late/ 
 
 ( Some are too weak to endure oppression/ re- 
 marked Arthur, gently, 'and turn Protestant to 
 escape from misery/ 
 
 1 Then it is good that the oppression, as you call 
 it, should continue/ returned his sister, with deci- 
 sion. l The scarlet woman and her progeny of vices 
 shall be extinguished. When people are so ignorant 
 and brutish, they must be snatched from the fire 
 by any means/ 
 
 1 My lady, my lady V laughed Curran. ' Your 
 speech and your deeds are ever at variance. Your 
 words breathe fire and sword, yet none are more 
 kindly to the poor. Extremes meet, you know. I 
 believe that you will die a Catholic/ 
 
 My lady glanced at Doreen, pursed up her lips, 
 and said nothing. 
 
 c Did we not agree t'other day about true religion ? 
 It lies not in abusing our neighbours, but in culti-
 
 STROGUE ABBEY. 123 
 
 vating a heart void of offence to God and man. 
 Remember that definition, Terence, and act on it, 
 my boy. It was a saying of the great Lord Chatham/ 
 
 1 If only Luther had never been born V groaned 
 Arthur Wolfe. ' Christianity was good enough for 
 Christendom in old days/ 
 
 This was an awkward subject. Lord Clare 
 changed it with accustomed tact. 
 
 1 Do you know, Outran/ he said, ' that Tone has 
 left a sting behind him which till yesterday we did 
 not suspect ? We have reason to believe that the- 
 University, of which we are all so justly proud, has 
 been tampered with. That's bad, you know. I am 
 informed that there are no less than four branches 
 of the secret society within its walls. Severest 
 measures may be necessary. As chancellor of 
 Trinity I will see to it/ 
 
 Doreen turned round and listened. So did Ter- 
 ence, for he had many friends in Trinity. 
 
 1 Have you any basis to work upon V asked 
 my lady. 
 
 ' Certainly ! A man whom I can trust in every 
 way is hand and glove with them. The unhappy 
 wretches have a traitor in their midst. Young 
 McLaughlin is bitten with the mania, a sad scatter- 
 brain ; and Bond, and Ford, who's half an idiot. 
 The only one Pm sorry for is young Emmett, who 
 should know better, being son of a State-physician. 
 But then his brother, who dabbles in journalism, is 
 a bad example. I should not be surprised if he 
 were hanged some day/
 
 124 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 Poor Sara, who had gone to where Doreen was 
 sitting, glanced from one at another, her pupils ex- 
 panded by terror. She knew that the dear undergra- 
 duate had not taken the oath. But to be suspected 
 at such times as were looming was a matter of grave 
 jeopardy. Her father looked serious, and so did 
 Terence. Both liked the Emmetts, and were sorry to 
 hear about this traitor. My Lord Clare's flippant 
 discourse was distasteful to all. Was he making 
 himself disagreeable on purpose ? Curran was 
 shaking his hair ominously. Terence burst out in 
 defence of the young men who were, he swore, as 
 good as gold, and his personal friends — more worthy 
 than others who should be nameless. My lady, in 
 her orange robe, looked like a thunder-cloud. 
 Oassidy, to pour oil on the troubled waters, pro- 
 posed that Miss Wolfe should sing, and Arthur, 
 relieved at the diversion, drew out his girl's harp 
 into the room. 
 
 Doreen would have refused if she had dared, for 
 these covert bickerings constantly renewed upon 
 topics which moved her so strongly, were wearing 
 to the nerves. But everybody suddenly desired 
 music. 
 
 ' Something Irish, set to one of your own melodies/ 
 suggested Cassidy. ' Sure, Curran will play a second 
 on his violoncello ; and I'll give you a new song 
 afterwards/ 
 
 Well, anything was better than the grating of 
 Lord Clare's harsh voice. Listlessly sitting down 
 to the harp, Doreen permitted her shapely arms to
 
 STROGUE ABBEY. 125 
 
 wander over its strings. Then, fired by a kind of 
 desperation, she lifted her prond head and began in 
 a rich contralto, while Mr. Curran, on a low stool 
 beside her, scraped out an impromptu bass : 
 
 1 " Brothers, arise ! The hour has come to strike a blow for 
 Truth and God. 
 Why sit ye folded up and dumb 2 why, bending, kiss a 
 
 tyraut's rod ? 
 For what is death to him who dies, the martyr's crown 
 
 upon his head ? 
 A charter — not a sacrifice — a life immortal for the dead. 
 And life itself is only great when man devotes himself to be 
 By virtue, thought, and deed the mate of God's true children 
 and the free !" ' 
 
 Her voice trembled and gave way, and bowing 
 her neck over the instrument, the girl wept. Sara 
 stole up and kissed away the tears. Her own heart 
 was exceeding heavy, she knew not why, except 
 that she saw visions of Robert in peril, such as she 
 was thankful to think were only visions. If aught 
 befell him, she would lie down and die — of that she 
 was quite sure — foolish virgin ! She had bestowed 
 her pure heart unasked. Would he who held it 
 value the priceless gift ? 
 
 My lady and Lord Clare looked at Arthur Wolfe 
 in consternation. Where did the naughty damsel 
 learn such a song ? Of what dangerous stuff was 
 she made to presume to chant it before the chan- 
 cellor himself ? ' It is the cloven foot/ her aunt 
 thought with fury. That terrrible blob ! Anxieties 
 were thickening. Something must be done, or the
 
 126 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 girl would go to perdition even faster than she 
 galloped across country. 
 
 Arthur looked wistfully at his sister, then at his 
 child, who, the paroxysm past, was a cold statue 
 again — haughty, unabashed. To look at her, you 
 would feel assured that she had done right, while 
 all the rest were wrong. Some people are incorri- 
 gible, and Miss Wolfe was evidently one of them. 
 Her father suspected shrewdly that she had learnt 
 the song at Curran's. He knew that she wor- 
 shipped Tone, and that she had been in the habit of 
 meeting him at the Priory. But he never had the 
 courage to stand between the Catholic and the Pro- 
 testant champion of her faith. As usual, he tem- 
 porised, striving to serve two masters, and, as 
 usual, suffered for his weakness. 
 
 Lord Clare read him like a book, and was dis- 
 gusted with his friend. Wolfe's sensitive conscience 
 was constantly racked by doubts which a natural 
 diffidence magnified into bugbears. Clare's in- 
 flexibly ambitious mind despised the hysterics of 
 the country which he governed; brazen and hard, 
 he was a fit tool for Mr. Pitt. As he looked at 
 Arthur, who hung his head over his daughter's 
 escapade, he decided that this was a square peg in 
 a round hole. As attorney- general, acts might be 
 demanded of him by-and-by, from which he would 
 shrink with lamentable want of character. What if 
 he were to shillyshally when prompt action was 
 urgent ! He might upset the deftest schemes, 
 overturn the most skilful combinations, by his bung-
 
 STROGUE ABBEY. 127 
 
 ling. Only a few minutes ago, his tell-tale face had 
 shown how he disapproved of the one witness pro- 
 ject. What a pity it was that the inoffensive fellow 
 had ever been promoted, for as a simple lawyer he 
 would have been pushed by events into the back- 
 ground. Well, well ! He must be tried, and 
 trotted forth to test his mettle. If he were proved 
 wanting, there would be nothing for it but to pass 
 him on again — to shelve him somewhere in the 
 Lords, where he might drone harmlessly. 
 
 But this outrageous bit of scorn — his daughter ! 
 My lady must have a hard time with her. She was 
 going awry, as hysterical girls will ; yet surely the 
 dowager was more than capable of coping with this 
 febrile phase of a strong nature half developed ? 
 Then the astute idea passed through the schemer's 
 brain of how convenient it would be if the budding 
 Joan of Arc could be used as an unconscious spy 
 upon her party. An ingenious notion, but one 
 difficult to carry out — a delicate game, which would 
 have to be worked through the countess, who was a 
 crotchety soured woman, with a nice sense of 
 honour, who would slave night and day for a cause 
 which she esteemed a rightful one, but who would 
 rather cut off her hand than stoop to what she knew 
 was a meanness — provided that it did not affect her 
 interests. 
 
 My Lord Clare could not forbear smiling when, 
 glancing round the party, he noted the effect of the 
 song. My lady dumbly furious ; Arthur apologetic ; 
 Doreen herself indifferent; Terence uneasy and
 
 128 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 taken aback. One savage breast alone bad music 
 soothed ; and Terence, who revered his chief, 
 thanked Cassidy with a nod for having withdrawn 
 him from further contest. Once with his huge machine 
 between his feet, he was invulnerable even to Erin's 
 wrongs, scraping himself into a condition of ecstatic 
 beatitude, from which there was no fretting him 
 any more. There he sat, crouching like a black- 
 beetle on a kitchen boiler, his underlip protruded, 
 his face lighted with satisfaction, his head nodding 
 to the time, and his frenzied eye fixed on the coat- 
 of-arms upon the ceiling, as though to invoke its 
 supporting monsters to turn and cock their ears. 
 My Lord Clare's smile faded presently ; he hated 
 music nearly as much as he hated Curran. 
 
 ' Turn out the lights V he cried. ' I wonder your 
 ladyship has patience with the fellow's grimaces. 
 And you, my lad/ he continued seriously, address- 
 ing Terence, { accept the lesson of the times and 
 avoid enthusiasm. In this country it leads to the 
 halter. Steer your course wisely. Take a safer 
 pilot to guide your inexperience than yonder hurdy- 
 gurdyman, so that you may find yourself on the 
 winning side at last. There is no doubt which that 
 will be/ 
 
 1 1 will use my own judgment/ replied Terence, 
 simply, with a dignity which would have won 
 approval from his cousin, had she not just descended 
 into the pleasaunce to recover, amid the influences 
 of night, her natural calmness of demeanour. 
 
 c That beast's din addles my brains/ went on the
 
 SJROGUE ABBEY. 129 
 
 chancellor, rising to depart. ' Drive back with me, 
 Arthur. I have a special subject to talk to you 
 about. You must take a bolder course in politics. 
 The ball is at your feet. We must teach you to' 
 find pluck enough to strike it/ 
 
 Wolfe smiled gently as he answered : 
 
 ' I'll take a drive with pleasure, but you'll find 
 me terribly deceitful ; for I must grub up money for 
 my daughter's sake ; and yet, in certain ways, Fm 
 an impracticable person — a mule with his feet to- 
 gether. Vacillating you think me. In some things 
 you'll find I'm adamant.' 
 
 All were glad when at last the chancellor de- 
 parted. Even my lady admitted that he could be 
 crabbed at times. He was gone, but, like the 
 gentleman in black, he left an evil savour in his wake. 
 
 Startled from reverie by the clang of the hall- 
 door, Curran threw aside his bow and scratched his 
 elf-locks pensively. 
 
 ' No !' he said. ' These laws which they are con- 
 tinually framing are too dreadful, If the testimony 
 of one witness is to be sufficient to convict us, then 
 are we foredoomed ; for any one may be summoned 
 to join in the Kilmainham minuet by the malice of 
 a discharged groom, or the greed of the meanest 
 cowboy. Trial and evidence are not children's 
 baubles ; they were not even established for the sole 
 purpose of punishing the guilty ; their most precious 
 use is for the security of innocence.'' 
 
 The little lawyer looked so horror-stricken, that 
 both my lady and the giant burst out a-laughing. 
 
 vol. 1. 9
 
 130 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 ' Come/ said the former, wresting the violoncello 
 from his grasp, f your music carries you too far. 
 Lord Clare was out of sorts, and played upon your 
 fears. Thank heaven he is no Blunderbore, or he 
 would not be my welcome guest. Now to bed. 
 Sara looks worn out/ 
 
 { He has no sense of right and wrong/ grumbled 
 Curran. 
 
 ' For shame ! You are both good men. What a 
 pity you can only agree in looking at each other 
 through distorted glasses | J 
 
 ' Faix, her ladyship's right/ acquiesced Cassidy, 
 with a grin. ' You magnify the number of the in- 
 formers. I should be sorry to believe there are half 
 as many as you think/ 
 
 ' Did not Tone say you were simple ?' asked 
 Curran, sadly. ' So there's some one watching the 
 Emmetts ? Can you guess ? No ! Nor I ; but 
 they must be warned. Clare is brewing some new 
 devil's haricot, and will dip Arthur's ladle in it, if 
 he may. What a net it is that they are winding 
 about Erin ! Pray God that we and ours may 
 escape entanglement !'
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 MY LADY'S PROJECT. 
 
 |OREEN stood by the crazy sun-dial, look- 
 ing at the milky way, and reflecting upon 
 the chatter which had assailed her ears. 
 Consigned to Moiley ! The dragon of 
 the new regime was beginning to show that his 
 hunger was insatiable. The prisons were filling 
 apace. Lord Clare had hinted that worse was yet 
 to come, that the shadow of the gibbet was to 
 stretch across the earth, that hemp would soon be 
 at a premium. But there were two Moileys — two 
 goddesses of vengeance and retaliation, ready to 
 strike, one for the oppressor, one for the oppressed. 
 If their blood was roused, who might foretell what 
 havoc they would make ere they sheathed their 
 swords again ! 
 
 The rustle of my lady's skirts recalled the maiden 
 to herself, and she perceived her aunt descending 
 into the garden. It was seldom that my lady changed 
 
 9—2
 
 132 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 her routine in the smallest particular. What could 
 be the cause of this sudden fancy for star-gazing ? 
 
 ' A lovely night/ exclaimed her ladyship. { How- 
 sweet the roses smell ! I vow it is a sin to go to 
 bed/ 
 
 ' Shane seems to think so/ returned Doreen. 
 ' He never comes in till the small hours/ 
 
 My lady looked sharply in her niece's face, but 
 was nothing there save a settled sadness. 
 
 ' Come/ she said, ' Curran and his child are gone 
 to rest. We'll take a turn in the pleasaunce/ 
 
 They sauntered through the golden gate and 
 down a leafy avenue, in silence, while owls and bats 
 flitted past their heads and circled away among the 
 foliage. My lady had something to say, and did not 
 know how to say it. Doreen was thinking of the 
 dear wanderer, who was tossing on the sea by this 
 time. Presently my lady said abruptly : 
 
 ' Doreen, you must change your ways/ 
 
 The damsel's nostrils dilated a little ; but, biting 
 her lip, she answered nothing. 
 
 1 You are twenty-two/ pursued her aunt. ' It is 
 time that you gave up playing Miss Hoyden, and 
 settled down into a respectable married woman/ 
 
 The girl walked on without a word, wondering 
 what was coming next, while her aunt, growing 
 exasperated at what she was pleased to consider 
 stubbornness, bent down to sniff a rose which wept 
 gems upon her dress. 
 
 'Does it trouble you,' she said, wiping the dew 
 from her skirts carefully with a handkerchief, ' that
 
 MY LAD Y'S PROJECT. 133 
 
 Shane should stop out so late ? The Glandores 
 were always rakes, but were none the worse for 
 that. For my part I hate a milksop/ 
 
 Poor lady ! The late lord had given her little 
 experience of the milksop ! 
 
 ' What can it signify to me what he does V asked 
 Doreen, with a tinge of bitterness. ' He is drinking 
 to King AVilliam now, no doubt, if not insensible 
 beneath the table/ 
 
 This was awkward, for my lady desired to make 
 the best of Shane, and the fact of his doing homage 
 to the Immortal memory was not likely to be pleasing 
 to a Roman Catholic. So she turned her batteries. 
 
 1 You are wild, and will come to shipwreck/ she 
 declared, ' if we do not set some one to look after 
 you. The way you behaved just now was most de- 
 plorable. Your poor father looked wretched ; but 
 the dear soul is a goose. Unless you mend your 
 ways you will find no one to marry you at all, which 
 will be dreadful, and a disgrace to all of us. Your 
 behaviour to Terence is not quite seemly, for you 
 forget that he is grown up, and that you should not 
 trifle with an inflammable youth/ 
 
 This shot went home. Thoroughly taken aback, 
 Doreen cried : 
 
 ' Terence ! You must be jesting, aunt ! He is 
 my first cousin, almost my brother. You will accuse 
 me of flirting with Shane next/ 
 
 ( That is quite another matter/ replied my lady, 
 coldly, for she was nettled at the contemptuous 
 manner in which the girl spoke of her favourite son.
 
 134 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 ' I say you must be married before you disgrace us 
 all, which you certainly will do unless curbed, being 
 half a plebeian born/ 
 
 The blood flooded the girl's face, and she clasped 
 her bosom with both hands to still the indignation 
 rising there. For my lady, when annoyed beyond a 
 given point, was apt to make sneering remarks 
 about the late Mrs. Wolfe which filled her child with 
 rage. 
 
 ' What do you mean V she exclaimed haughtily. 
 f There is no must about the matter. You should 
 have learned by this time that I will not be driven 
 by any one on earth ; certainly not by you/ Then 
 recovering herself, she went on more softly : ' What 
 a puzzle you are ! Sometimes so kind, sometimes 
 so cruel ! I think you really care for me ; you were 
 so good to the motherless little one. If my mother 
 had lived I might have been different. A Miss 
 Hoyden, am I ? I have never had any one in whom 
 to put my trust, to whom I might tell my troubles ; 
 and a heart closed up, without sympathy, is a sore 
 thing for one of my age V 
 
 The girl's voice died away, and her aunt felt 
 uncomfortable. 
 
 ' To-day/ Doreen resumed, e I went to see Ally 
 Brady, who is dying, and nearly threw myself upon 
 the neck of the lady who is nursing her. She looked 
 so kind and hearty as her tears fell for the peasant- 
 woman, and she clings to the prescribed creed as I 
 do. It was Mrs. Gillin, of the Little House/ 
 
 My lady looked up sharply.
 
 MY LADY'S PROJECT. 135 
 
 1 You dared to speak to her V 
 
 ' No ; I retired. But she looked after me with 
 such a strange pity. Aunt, why do you object to 
 my knowing this lady, though all the world speaks 
 well of her ? Shane goes to the Little House, and 
 Norah makes him welcome. He told me so. I have 
 seen Norah often, and she is very pretty. What 
 does it all mean ? Is Shane going to marry her ? 
 May I speak to her when she's Shane's wife ? If 
 he knows and likes the Gillins, why should not I, 
 who, as a Catholic, have a sort of right to cherish 
 them V 
 
 My lady started and stood still, as if she had seen 
 an adder in her path, and said in an altered 
 voice : 
 
 ' Have I not commanded you never to mention 
 that woman's name before me ? Shane is more wild 
 than I could wish. He does what he chooses ; and, 
 besides, a man may do what a woman may not. If 
 he were well married, he would grow quieter, no 
 doubt. Your father's wish is the same as mine. 
 You know it, and are obstinate.' 
 
 Doreen was astonished, for Lady Glandore was 
 not given to displays of emotion ; and now she was 
 much agitated, while her features worked as if in 
 physical pain. Kissing her niece on the forehead, 
 she gathered up her skirts and walked rapidly back 
 towards the house. 
 
 For an hour and more the girl wandered in the 
 pleasaunce, taking no heed of dew, though her high- 
 waisted dress was of the thinnest muslin. She was
 
 136 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 weighing her aunt's hints, and the strange compli- 
 cations of her own position. 
 
 There could be no further doubt that my lady- 
 desired to unite her niece to Shane. Doreeu had 
 suspected it before, but the idea seemed too prepos- 
 terous. What motive could be strong enough to 
 bring about so amazing a desire on the part of the 
 proud chatelaine, as a union between one of the 
 hated faith, whose mother was of doubtful origin, 
 and the dearly-loved head of the Glandores, who 
 was young, rich, Protestant, good-looking ? That 
 she should ever come to permit a match even with the 
 poor younger son, whom she did not love, would be 
 surprising enough j but a motive might be found 
 for that in his poverty and extravagance, and her 
 trifling nest-egg. The blot on the escutcheon 
 would not have mattered so much in his case, for he 
 was unlikely ever to wear the coronet, and the 
 attorney-general's scrapings would have gilded a 
 more unpleasant bolus than his handsome daughter. 
 
 But Shane, who by reason of his wealth and posi- 
 tion was a great catch, who might throw his hand- 
 kerchief to whom he pleased ! What could be the 
 reason ? Was it that his mother dreaded his being 
 caught by some low and penniless adventuress — he 
 who was so self-willed and given to low company ? 
 It could hardly be that; for in the eyes of the 
 chatelaine, Doreen herself was little better, save in 
 the way of money ; aud where the young earl was 
 himself so wealthy, her little fortune could not be 
 taken into consideration. If he would only go into
 
 MY LADY'S PROJECT. 137 
 
 good society, Shane might aspire to the most bril- 
 liant match. 
 
 It was a riddle to which the damsel could find no 
 solution, so she began calmly to consider how she 
 should act herself. Should she yield to her aunt's 
 wishes, and assume the high position of the young 
 earl's bride ? If she said ' Yes/ would Shane 
 indeed take her to his bosom, or would he be dis- 
 obedient in this as other things ? If he came and 
 asked her, would she say ' Yes/ or ' No V She was 
 amazed to find that she was by no means sure. He 
 was an iguoble sot, a drunkard, and a debauchee ; 
 but, in the eyes of most young' ladies, such qualities 
 were rather admired than not. It was thought fine 
 for a spark's eye to have a noble fierceness which 
 softened to the mildness of the dove when contem- 
 plating ' the sex/ But then Doreen's education had 
 been peculiar — different in many ways to that of 
 other young ladies — partly on account of her mother- 
 lessness, partly because of the faith she professed. 
 The Penal Code had eaten into her soul — she was 
 more thoughtful and sober than girls of her age 
 usually are ; was given to day-dreams and imprac- 
 ticable heroic longings, tinged, all of them, by a 
 romance due to her Irish nature and the romantic 
 conditions of her time. 
 
 She had never thought much of marrying or 
 giving in marriage, and it came upon her now as a 
 new light, that by a marriage she might benefit the 
 4 cause/ As she sauntered up and down, she re- 
 flected that, by espousing Shane, she might make of
 
 138 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 herself a Judith for her people's sake. Shane was 
 already sodden and sottish, given to excessive tip- 
 pling. She, Doreen, was of a masculine strength 
 of character, and knew it. Once established at the 
 Abbey as its mistress, why should she not take on 
 herself the control of the estates, as the present 
 countess did, and manage them according to her 
 liking ? The United Irishmen were sadly in need 
 of funds. Tone had said that a bloodless revolution 
 was impossible. Arms and powder would be re- 
 quired when the struggle came. Why should not 
 she provide a portion of it out of the wealth of the 
 lord of Strogue ? It seemed an ignoble thing to 
 do; yet, for the cause's sake, was not anything 
 justifiable ? Did not Judith, the noblest of women, 
 the purest of patriots, lower herself to the disguise 
 of a harlot for the saving of her people ? Doreen 
 felt the holy flame burning within her, which goes 
 to the making of Judiths. 
 
 Her father, though she loved him fondly, could 
 never be of real service to her. What would he 
 think of such a wedding ? It mattered not, situated 
 as she was. Her battle of life must be fought 
 alone, without help from any one. She was fully 
 aware of that, and was prepared to fight it — to the 
 end — after her own fashion. 
 
 She was startled from her reverie by the banging 
 of doors and shouts of discordant laughter. Cassidy 
 had been singing some time since in the young 
 men's wing, trolling out pathetic ballads for the 
 edification of Terence and his chief — but these had
 
 MY LAD Y'S PROJECT. 139 
 
 retired to rest long since. This must be the young 
 lord and his boon companions — come to finish the 
 night in wine and play as joyous gallants should. 
 It would be awkward to meet them in their cups ; 
 so she stole as noiselessly as might be through the 
 golden gate, past the sun-dial among the flowers, 
 and reached her chamber, which was over the chintz 
 drawing-room (her own boudoir), just as there 
 came a crash and awful din in the hall. Then 
 followed a babel of angry voices. Lights appeared 
 in the dining-hall opposite, the blinds of which were 
 not drawn down, and a posse of young nobles — 
 their clothes muddy and disarranged; their hair 
 dishevelled j their action wild and excited — crowded 
 in around their host. She could distinguish my 
 lord by the glistening of his diamond coat-buttons 
 as he was held back by four companions, from 
 whose grasp he strove to free himself. One of 
 them, whose brain was less heated than the rest,, 
 had removed his couteau de chasse from its sheath,, 
 and was expostulating with him ; but he was evi- 
 dently not to be appeased without a scapegoat, for 
 he kept pointing angrily at a broken bust of 
 William III. which my lady had crowned with 
 laurel that very day. 
 
 She could see that somebody had upset the bust, 
 and that my lord wished to wipe out the insult to 
 the Protestant champion with the blood of the 
 offender. My lady did not appear. She had been 
 well broken to orgies of the kind by the late lord, 
 and took no heed of the uproar; but the aged
 
 140 M Y LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 butler, who, as a matter of course, had produced 
 magnums of claret in tin frames upon the appear- 
 ance of the party, seemed to be coaxing his young 
 master into good temper, and with some success 
 apparently, for by-and-by the coutecm de chasse 
 was given back and the party settled down amicably, 
 having first tossed the offender out of window, who 
 lay snoring upon the flower-beds till morning, 
 wrapped in the sound sleep of drunkards. 
 
 Doreen sat at the open window, her chin buried 
 in her hand, watching the proceedings of her cousin. 
 His cravat was gone ; his fair young chest exposed ; 
 his velvet surtout torn and stained ; his striped silk 
 stockings in tatters j the bunches of ribbon wrenched 
 from off his half-boots. His face was blotched and 
 bloated ; his forehead disfigured by an ugly cicatrice 
 which turned of a bright red when he was far gone 
 in liquor or in passion. She saw him rise on his 
 unsteady legs and wave a goblet at the fractured 
 bust, while he clung with the other arm round the 
 neck of the youth next to him. Then all the rest 
 rose and bowed as well as they were able; some 
 falling on the floor in the attempt and remaining 
 there, while the others sat down to their drink again 
 and clamoured for cards, shouting the while a 
 chorus, which came muffled to her through the 
 window-glass. 
 
 ' And it's ho ! ro ! the sup of good drink — 
 And ho ! ro ! the heart would not think ; 
 Oh, had I a shilling lapped up in a clout, 
 It's a sup of good drink that would wheedle it out !'
 
 MY LADYS PROJECT. 141 
 
 Doreen sat staring till the chill of morning 
 penetrated to her bones through the light robe of 
 muslin. Then she crept stiff and weary into bed, 
 while her teeth chattered and alternate douches of 
 hot and cold water seemed pouring down her back. 
 She had been studying Shane with a new interest, 
 and trembled for her future peace, for, as she 
 watched with senses sharpened, she was dismayed 
 at the hideous preponderance of the animal in her 
 cousin's nature. Never had she looked at him so 
 earnestly before. It was like binding one's self to a 
 hog for life. Sure Holofernes was not so degraded, 
 or the fortitude of Judith would have given way. 
 He was a warrior, mighty in battle, who, though an 
 enemy, commanded respect. A glorious athlete 
 such as 'tis woman's prerogative to outwit — as 
 Delilah outwitted Samson, as Omphale conquered 
 Hercules. Her ordeal too was of short duration. 
 How differently severe would be the self-appointed 
 task of this modern Judith, who contemplated tying 
 herself deliberately for the whole of her life to a 
 man who disgusted her in spite of his good looks ; 
 who, when shorn of the vulgar halo of animal 
 courage, was no better than a brawler and a bravo. 
 She might not strive to reform him, for with his 
 reformation he would of course take the reins of his 
 affairs, and the power of his wife would end, for 
 which alone she married him. It would be her 
 duty rather to encourage him in evil ways, and 
 coax him down the ladder. Was she capable, she 
 kept asking herself, as shuddering she drew the
 
 142 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 sheets around her, of so tremendous a sacrifice as 
 this ? Tone's, sublime as she considered it, was 
 nothing to what hers would be. He had thrown 
 away earthly pelf, was a fugitive and an outlaw ; 
 but he retained his self-respect. Could she retain 
 hers if Shane became her husband ? No. Doreen 
 confessed to herself that the position would be 
 impossible. If it had been Terence, now ! He was 
 foolish and gay and distressingly healthy; under 
 no pressure whatever could he bud into a hero. 
 He was humdrum, and her native romance revolted 
 from the humdrum. A fine grown man with a 
 good temper and a prosaic appetite. Why, if he 
 were to occupy Shane's shoes, all Dublin would be 
 envying her luck and remarking how brazenly she 
 had set her cap at him. Horror of horrors ! How 
 terribly commonplace ! Then the girl upbraided 
 herself for such foolish thoughts. Terence would 
 never become Lord Glandore, and as a simple 
 fisherman and sportsman could never win his 
 cousin. Perhaps my lady was right in warning her 
 to remember that he was grown up. He was a 
 dear good boy, but wofully prosaic. But what had 
 such as she to do with unmaidenly meditations 
 anent marrying and giving in marriage ? Sack- 
 cloth and ashes were the portion of the Catholics, 
 who were treated as the Jews had been by the 
 Crusaders. The sooner they died out the better. 
 What a wonderful idea that was of Aunt Glandore's ! 
 If she were seriously bent on anything, she was not 
 easy to baffle. Would it be best to speak out at
 
 MY LADY'S PROJECT. 143 
 
 once and brave a certain storm, or to let things be, 
 hoping to be delivered by some unexpected means ? 
 While she was debating this knotty question, her 
 thoughts became gradually confused, and she sank 
 into troubled slumber.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 TRINITY. 
 
 R. CURRAN took the bait tendered to 
 him by the chancellor. He made 
 inquiries, sorted the fragments of his 
 puzzle after his own fashion, and, filled 
 with suspicions, became anxious to unveil without 
 delay the fresh dangers which menaced his friends. 
 And dangers so easy to unveil ! The fowler cared 
 not, it seemed, to mask his engines of destruction. 
 Mr. Curran, from his place in the senate, publicly 
 warned ministers of the iniquity of their proceed- 
 ings, but nobody troubled to listen. The friends of 
 government gaped, vowing that the orator was a 
 maniac, that he had the secret society on the brain, 
 and ought to be carted to the madhouse ; the few 
 who were on the other side laughed, declaring that 
 Mr. Curran was misinformed. What could he do 
 then but sigh and hold his peace ? At least he 
 would speak to the Emmetts and adjure them to be 
 cautious, for the sake of all concerned.
 
 TRINITY. 145 
 
 When Tone's society for the promotion of universal 
 concord was driven by artful goading to become a 
 secret one, the conspirators met to discuss their 
 grievances in a cellar in Backlane, near the corn- 
 market : but when the time came for extinguishing" 
 
 ' DO 
 
 Tone and others, Sirr, the captain of Lord Clare's 
 sbirri, swept them thence, and they were forced to 
 find another try sting*- place. Pending final decision 
 on this point, it was arranged as a miracle of clever- 
 ness that the younger Emmett should suddenly 
 become hospitable. Trinity was always celebrated 
 for its rollicking wine-parties. What more natural 
 than that young Robert should do as others did; 
 that he, hitherto so studious, should be led astray a 
 little by the contagious force of bad example ? A 
 good cellaret of claret was provided at the common 
 expense; songs were sung with open windows, at 
 all hours of the day and night, of a convivial and 
 bacchanalian character. There was no end to the 
 shifts to which the patriots resorted, under the 
 belief that they were hoodwinking Major Sirr. 
 There arose a mania for ball-playing. Clerks, 
 shopkeepers, attorneys, would meet of an afternoon 
 at a hall taken for the purpose, and emerge thence 
 in an hour or two singularly cool and fresh for men 
 who had been practising athletics. There was also 
 a rage for fencing — a plausible excuse enough for 
 meeting in numbers, considering that the fire-eaters 
 of the south had just revised the laws of the duello. 
 The youthful aristocracy, in accordance with one of 
 the new rules, had already formed themselves into 
 vol. 1. 10
 
 146 MY LORDS OF ST ROGUE. 
 
 a club, called the Knights of Tara, whose members 
 met three times a week in the theatre at Capel 
 Street to display their prowess with the rapier 
 before an audience of Dublin belles. What then 
 should there be suspicious if the middle class 
 followed their example ? 
 
 The case was not quite the same, though ; for 
 while the Knights of Tara courted observation and 
 loved to be seen lounging in cambric shirts and 
 broidered slippers, with their hair in curl-papers, the 
 members of the other fencing club kept rigorously 
 closed doors, through which no one ever heard the 
 familiar cry, sharp as a pistol-crack, of ' Ha ! a 
 hit!' 
 
 One evening, shortly after Tone's departure, there 
 was a full gathering in the chambers on the second 
 floor which looked on the grand quadrangle. It 
 was necessary to instal with solemn rites a new chief 
 in place of the wanderer, and to fix on a distinct 
 plan of operations for enlarging the limits of the 
 society. Tone had left his mantle to Thomas Addis 
 Emmett as the oldest and wisest of the band — he was 
 thirty-five — and so, in obedience to his last wishes, 
 the editor of the Press was duly elected to the 
 dangerous pre-eminence. Submitting to his brother's 
 entreaties, he commenced his reign by administer- 
 ing the oath to young Robert, the dreamy lad of 
 seventeen, which was done with awful ceremonies, 
 as became the doings of conspirators. Blinds were 
 drawn for a few minutes that no prying gaze might 
 penetrate the Holy of Holies ; then all sat down,
 
 TRINITY, 147 
 
 with the neophyte standing in their midst, while 
 their president read through the constitution. 
 Then the oath was administered upon the Scriptures, 
 which, together with the constitution, were clasped 
 on the bared breast, and after that a lock of hair 
 was cut away under the queue behind, and a formula 
 learnt by heart, by means of which one member could 
 recognise another. It was touching to look on 
 these brothers standing side by side, the elder re- 
 ceiving the younger into a fraternity, each unit of 
 which, before many months were out, might possibly 
 be called upon to meet an ignominious death. 
 Thomas was big and burly, with a sedate cast 
 of countenance which betokened thought, whilst 
 Eobert was slight of build, and looked almost like 
 a girl, as with eyes fixed on space he repeated the 
 strange sentences, his face aglow with enthusiasm, 
 his body trembling like a leaf. 
 f Are you straight V 
 
 < I am.' 
 
 ' How straight ?' 
 
 ' As straight as a rush/ 
 
 < Go on then V 
 
 ' In truth and trust; in unity and liberty/ 
 
 ' What have you in your hand V 
 
 ' A green bough/ 
 
 ' Where did it grow V 
 
 ' In America/ 
 
 'Where did it bud V 
 
 ' In France/ 
 
 * Where will you plant it V 
 
 10—2
 
 148 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 ' In the Crown of Great Britain.' 
 
 ' God be with you then, and with us all/ Thomas 
 concluded ; ' and now a glass all round to the health 
 of the new member. ' 
 
 The pledge was gravely accepted, each one raising 
 his beaker and saying : ' To the diffusion of light V 
 ere he drained its contents and replaced it on the 
 table bottom upwards. 
 
 ' Now, gentlemen/ pursued Thomas. ' We have 
 serious business before us. Theobald will be away 
 a year at least before help can come, and it is his 
 wish that we should without delay prepare to graft 
 the military upon our civil functions. With arms 
 and ammunition Tone will provide us if he can, but 
 they will be of little service unless we know how to 
 use them. In the halcyon days of the Volunteers 
 every Irishman was a soldier. Let us show that the 
 martial spirit of our ancient kings, which then for 
 awhile revived, is not quite dead in us/ 
 
 ( I will never consent to bloodshed/ shuddered 
 young Robert. f Internecine strife is too horrible !' 
 
 s You have been sworn in by your own desire/ 
 returned his brother, sternly, ' and your first duty 
 is blind obedience. It is Tone's conviction that we 
 must fight, and fight we will when the time comes — 
 to the death ! In revolutions there is nothing 
 certain but blood. The march of the captives is 
 through a Red Sea. After forty years of seeking 
 new abodes, which of those who lead them shall 
 touch the Promised Land ? Lord Clare shows us 
 his cards, and a pretty hand it is. Sirr is organising
 
 TRINITY. 149 
 
 his paid spies into a battalion who are to dwell at 
 the Castle like pampered pets. It is hard to believe 
 that Irishmen will be so base. These informers are 
 to lie perdu until wanted — are to worm themselves 
 into the confidence of suspected persons, to eat of 
 their bread and salt, to nurse their little ones upon 
 their knees, and then, upon a signal, to give them 
 over to the hangman/ 
 
 ' But the Viceroy !' cried Cassidy in indignation. 
 ' Lord Camden is a man of honour who would never 
 consent to such a plan V 
 
 Thomas Emmett shook his head mournfully. 
 
 ' We all know/ he said, ' that the cabinet rules 
 the Viceroy, and that Lord Clare is master of the 
 cabinet/ 
 
 ' Seeing' s believing/ retorted the giant doggedly, 
 as he stretched out his great hand for the claret 
 bottle. ' Of course we must watch that no such 
 villain shall creep among us. I won't believe that 
 the English are without mercy/ 
 
 ' At the battle of Aughrim,' replied Thomas, ' the 
 blood sank into the soil of seven thousand Irishmen 
 who were only defending their rights/ 
 
 ' As for drilling and such like/ said Cassidy, 
 ' Fm with you, and the sooner we start the business 
 the better. I've learnt a new song that we'll sing 
 as we march to battle ' 
 
 ' Oh, you simpleton V laughed Terence Crosbie, 
 who, slightly touched with wine, had followed the 
 proceedings of the two Emmetts with amusement. 
 1 Romancing as usual — giving credence to every
 
 150 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 scandalous tale you hear. Even if there were truth 
 in them, your grievances would not give birth to 
 generals. You will never make colonels out of 
 linendrapers.' 
 
 f No more than purses out of sows' ears/ returned 
 Cassidy, with a merry twinkle. 'No, councillor, 
 that we never will. But we'll wheedle a few aristo- 
 crats like your honour, whose blue blood shall 
 mingle with our muddy stuff. When the day 
 dawns, you and a few like yourself shall lead the 
 boys to victory/ 
 
 Terence looked annoyed, but said nothing ; while 
 Cassidy and the others scanned his face narrowly. 
 He was not affiliated to the society, nor had the 
 remotest ambition of becoming so ; for he knew that 
 it behoved not one of his order to join in such 
 movements as this. Yet there was a fascination 
 for him in its doings, which kept him dangling 
 upon its outskirts. Some of his most valued friends 
 were enrolled on the list of United Irishmen, and 
 he knew well how Doreen was praying for their 
 success. So he attended the supper-parties some- 
 times in his purposeless way, and they permitted 
 him to do so freely, despite the maxim that in 
 troublous times half-friends are no friends. They 
 knew, or thought they knew, that he was the soul 
 of honour, who would never betray a confidence ; 
 and hoped, encouraged by Cassidy, that some day 
 he might be cajoled or stung into their ranks, 
 which would be a feather in their cap indeed ; for to 
 be led by a Crosbie of Ennishowen would give them
 
 TRINITY. 151 
 
 a prestige at once such as in these democratic days 
 we can hardly realise. And Terence, seeing through 
 the simple scheme (for he was sharp enough, though 
 lazy), was flattered by their confidence. Yet for all 
 that he promised himself to hold aloof from active 
 co-operation with hot-pated friends who made moun- 
 tains out of mole-hills. He had no intention of 
 heading the forlorn hope of a misguided rabble- 
 ment who would fly helter-skelter before the first 
 puff of cannon smoke. 80 he prudently refrained 
 from picking up the gauntlet, and listened to the 
 giant, who was delivered of an idea. 
 
 ' IVe a notion V cried Cassidy, thumping the 
 table till the glasses rang again. 
 
 ' Be cool now V cautioned Tom Emmett. ' You 
 are as dangerous as a powder-magazine/ 
 
 ' Is it dangerous I am V grumbled the other. 
 'Sure something must be risked, or we'll niver get 
 along. I've an idaya, gintlemen, which I'm willing 
 to see to at my own expense, though a poor man. 
 I've reason to know that the militia may be tam- 
 pered with. Their hearts are with the cause, and 
 they're as poor as rats or your humble servant. 
 Money and drink will do much, and women will 
 settle the matter. Here's a letter from Belfast 
 which says that two hundred and fifty of the men 
 in camp there have secretly declared for us, and 
 that it only needs the personal presence of a dele- 
 gate to bring over half the rest. When the French 
 land they'll rise and kill their officers. Think of 
 the fine fright that'll give the royalists ! Sure and
 
 152 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 isn't that the way to out-plot England ? Shall I go 
 to Belfast and reconnoitre ? Of coorse ye must give 
 me credentials. A little note, signed, will do the 
 trick, and show I'm honest. As for the town-major 
 of whom ye're all so frightened, his bark's worse 
 nor his bite. The Irish Jonathan Wild can be bribed. 
 I'll answer for him; but there's time galore for that. 
 Dangerous, am I ? I'm the only one, I think, with 
 a drain of sperit. There's a great speech. Phew, 
 I'm dhry ! Hand round the clart, boys, and we'll 
 have a stave.' 
 
 The simple giant's harangue was favourably 
 received, the paper was penned and signed, and he 
 was wetting his whistle for a song when Tom 
 Emmett raised his hand. 
 
 ' Hark ! who comes V 
 
 There was a footstep on the creaking stair ; then 
 a knock; and a familiar voice said: 'It is I. Curran.' 
 
 ' Nurse Curran!' sneered Cassidy, annoyed. 
 ' Come to look after his foster-babby.' 
 
 The little advocate entered, and leaned against 
 the door with his arms folded. 
 
 f Terence, my lad,' he said. ' You must come 
 away with me. What would my lady say, if you 
 came to be arrested ?' 
 
 ' Arrested !' echoed a dozen voices. { Within 
 Trinity ? Impossible !' 
 
 ' I fail to see that it's impossible,' snarled Cur- 
 ran. ' Hide those foolish papers there, or burn 
 them — children, too easily beguiled with toys ! And 
 you, Terence, come away with me at once. Why ?
 
 TRINITY. 153 
 
 Are not convenient edicts being passed each day to 
 simplify the work of government ? Laws for the 
 suppression of gaming, profane swearing, atheisti- 
 cal assemblies, which places every man's home under 
 surveillance of the town-major V 
 
 ' You have explicit information ?' inquired Tom 
 Emmett, anxiously. 
 
 1 1 don't say that V stammered Curran, somewhat 
 confused. ' I only say that your threshold might 
 be invaded at any moment, and that ye've your- 
 selves to thank if ye get into a hopeless scrape. 
 A few hours since, a carpenter who is under obli- 
 gation to me was at work in Ely Place. While 
 repairing the floor between two double doors he 
 distinctly heard Lord Clare in conversation with the 
 town-major, in which Sirr told his chief that there 
 would be a strong muster to-night in this boy's 
 chambers. Am I making too free in asking you to 
 lock away those documents, or would ye prefer hang- 
 ing at once to save trouble ? The carpenter wrenched 
 off a hinge and begged to be allowed to fetch a 
 new one ; but instead of going straight to the iron- 
 monger's he ran to me with commendable speed, 
 gave the office, and returned to his work. What it 
 all means I am not in a position to say ; but mark 
 nay words, you have a traitor in your midst, who 
 reports to the enemy every word you utter. Your 
 necks are your own, to do with as you like ; but I'm 
 responsible for you, Terence, to your mother, and I 
 summon you to go away with me.' 
 
 Tom Emmett flushed scarlet, and involuntarily
 
 154 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 placed a hand upon the pistol in his breast. A low 
 murmur went round the room as Cassidy sprang to 
 his feet 
 
 ' Take care V he shouted, ' how ye bring vague 
 charges. Many a disfigured corpse has Moiley eaten 
 — many an informer has floated out to sea. Give a 
 name — only a name — and I'll scrunch the spalpeen 
 so flat that ye'll not know him from a sheet of paper, 
 save for the coat; on him V 
 
 Curran shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 ' Do you think if I knew the scoundrel I'd not 
 have pointed at him long ago ? It's for you to 
 find him out. Don't glare at me, man — I'm not a 
 youngster who has never blazed. Mind, I've 
 warned you to be circumspect. The Irish nature is 
 too open. It can't keep a secret without telling a 
 lie, and lies lead to awful tangles. It's no affair 
 of mine. Terence, come along.' 
 
 The junior rose and stretched himself, and pre- 
 pared to follow his chief. 
 
 A betrayer in their midst ! The case did seem 
 hopeless to the young councillor ; so hopeless as to 
 be almost contemptible. Possibly Lord Clare was a 
 trifle over-strict with them, but he certainly appeared 
 justified to a certain extent in assuming with the 
 children the manner of a severe pedagogue. What 
 a pity that they persisted in fathering every enormity 
 upon him ! 
 
 1 It's a bad job, my friends,' he said. ' Curran's 
 right about the papers. Good- night.' 
 
 As they crossed the quadrangle his mentor be-
 
 TRINITY. 155 
 
 came wondrous voluble. He was garrulous as to 
 my lady, and her unfortunate penchant for the 
 chancellor ; talked of Grlandore, and all the titled 
 in the land, till his companion eyed him in indolent 
 surprise. To occupy his attention was the design of 
 his mentor, for lurking in the shadow of doorways 
 were certain darkling figures who were not gowns- 
 men ; and the little king's counsel feared lest Te- 
 rence, if he perceived danger to be imminent, should 
 be ill-judged enough to retrace his steps and get 
 mixed up in the misfortunes of his friends. 
 
 The spectres allowed the pair to pass, and then, 
 gliding to the door from which they had issued, left 
 half their number there, whilst the rest stole through 
 the gateway to the inner court — so as to command 
 two special windows which were pointed out to 
 them. 
 
 Meanwhile the party above, having completed the 
 business of the evening, prepared itself to be jolly. 
 The story of the proposed arrest, the vague charge 
 about an informer, were evidently Bugaboos in- 
 vented by nurse Curran for the luring away of his 
 junior. 
 
 Cassidy, who was in great spirits to-night, and 
 had drank deeply, demonstrated with the utmost 
 clearness that the fabrication was absurd. By an 
 old law of Queen Elizabeth (the only pleasant law she 
 ever made for Ireland), no bumbailiff or importunate 
 creditor might set his foot within the College-gates. 
 Alma Mater was a sanctuary from which none might 
 be taken an any account without an order from the
 
 156 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 authorities of Trinity, who were too jealous of their 
 rights ever to grant such order. Moreover, the 
 watch (harmless old women !) were always friends 
 with the gownsmen — ready to lend a staff or lant- 
 horn, or feign sleep or assume deafness, just as the 
 frolicsome young gentlemen should decree. It was 
 quite unlikely that they would witness any threaten- 
 ing demonstration without instantly giving an alarm, 
 a,nd even Sirr would think twice before daring an 
 assault upon the inmates of Trinity without the 
 assistance of the junior dean. Not that the under- 
 graduates were as bold a body now as when they 
 slew my Lord Glandore, or so unanimous either, as 
 none knew better than Lord Clare. Yet they were 
 no cowards, and always ready for a ' blaze/ 
 
 The younger Emmett, alarmed at first by Cur- 
 rants dismal prophecies, was convinced by Cassidy's 
 gibes that his terrors were ill-placed, and set about 
 producing from mysterious lurking-places the ele- 
 ments of a good supper — ham, chickens, bread — 
 furtively glancing in the mirror now and then at the 
 tiny tonsure which marked him for a patriot. The 
 giant arranged knives and forks, and filled the 
 round - bottomed claret decanters, trimming the 
 table with a tasty eye as a patriotic table should be 
 laid. In the centre he placed the constitution — 
 bulwark of the society — throned on a loaf of bread. 
 Close to it the president's badge, whilom Tone's — 
 Tom Emmett 's bauble now which consisted of a sham- 
 rock in green silk bearing a harp without a crown. 
 Near this the copy of the Scriptures; and by his
 
 TRINITY. 157 
 
 owd place a list of toasts such as should help to pass 
 the time till chapel-hour. When all was ready he 
 called on his companions to fall to ; and discussed 
 with the president, while the viands disappeared, 
 the details of his journey to Belfast. 
 
 As they talked the claret waned, and the views 
 of the company grew rosier. Thomas agreed that 
 it would be a wise system to spread disaffection 
 among the soldiery. The patriotism of the militia 
 might surely be counted on, he thought. With the 
 yeomanry it might be otherwise, as it was officered 
 by the upper class. Deliberation and prudence 
 must be the watchwords of the giant at Belfast, for 
 months must pass before Tone could hope to accom- 
 plish anything ; and all were of one mind as to the 
 necessity of French assistance. At the earliest, no 
 French fleet could be expected till the summer of 
 '96, therefore it behoved the leaders of the cause to 
 keep the broth gently simmering till the moment 
 of the crisis — organising battalions, drilling com- 
 panies during the night, establishing a vast military 
 system which should enable the four provinces to 
 effect a simultaneous rising. That was the impor- 
 tant point, spontaneity of movement; and he, 
 Emme^t, would make it his business to see that 
 the unity of action should be complete. 
 
 The danger was (he impressed on Cassidy) lest 
 the wickedness of England should exasperate the 
 people too soon. A given degree of cruelty will drive 
 the wisest mad. Patience is among the greatest of 
 virtues. Here was another thing, which it was
 
 158 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 all-important to consider. Terence Crosbie had 
 put his finger on one of their weakest points — their 
 lack of military genius. The best army in Christen- 
 dom is powerless without a general. What a pity 
 that Tone should be gone away, for the germ was 
 visible in him which would have blossomed forth 
 into glorious fruition under the sun of oppor- 
 tunity ! 
 
 ' Now V Cassidy cried, after a while, remarking 
 that some of the delegates were beginning to snore, 
 ' fill your glasses, and I'll sing ye the new song 
 which shall sound the knell of the Sassanagh. 'Tis 
 written by Barry, a mere gossoon, who's in Kil- 
 mainham at this minute. Bad cess to the ruffians 
 as put him there V Then, draining off a bumper, 
 he loosened the voluminous folds of his cravat, and 
 commenced in his mellow voice, while those who 
 were sober enough yelled the refrain : 
 
 1 " What rights the brave ? The sword ! 
 What frees the slave ? The sword ! 
 What cleaves in twain the despot's chain, and makes his 
 
 gyves and dungeons vain ? The sword ! 
 Then cease the proud task never ! while rests a link to sever. 
 Guard of the free, we'll cherish thee, and keep thee bright 
 for ever !" ' 
 
 So loudly was ' The Sword ' trolled forth, that 
 more peaceful neighbours, worn out with study, 
 turned uneasily in bed, cursing the rackety crew 
 ere they slept again ; so loudly was the final chorus 
 shrieked, that none heard the tramp of footsteps 
 on the stairs, none heeded the groping of unaccus-
 
 TRINITY. 159 
 
 tomed fingers upon the handle, till the door was 
 flung open, displaying a body of men upon the 
 landing whose crossbelts showed white through a 
 disguise. The young men stared bewildered as on 
 some horrid vision, and strove to get up on their 
 feet. Thomas, more sober than the rest, laid his 
 hand upon his pistol, but withdrew it again, seeing 
 how numerous were those who stood without. 
 1 What do you want V he asked. 
 A short man stepped from behind the rest. He 
 was remarkable for a hooked beak, eyes too close 
 together, shaded by heavy brows which met in a 
 tuft over his nose. He wore a tight stock with a 
 large silver buckle, hair plainly clubbed, and a 
 silver whistle like a boatswain's attached to a 
 buttonhole by a thong. 
 
 ' I am Major Sirr/ he snapped, i and arrest all 
 present in the King's name. Seize those docu- 
 ments V 
 
 Cassidy took a paper from his flapped pocket 
 and tried to swallow it, but the major's men, mark- 
 ing his clumsy movement, pressed his bull-throat 
 till he gave it forth again. How arbitrary is the 
 effect of drink ! Some men it renders furious, en- 
 dowing them with double strength ; others it makes 
 dull and stupid, robbing them of the power that 
 they had. Cassidy's giant bulk and tremendous 
 muscles should have stood him in good stead now 
 or never ; but he certainly had imbibed a portentous 
 quantity of claret, and the shaking he was getting 
 seemed quite to muddle him.
 
 160 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 ' Ah now, major dear/ he whimpered, smiling a 
 sickly smile, { you'd not take it from me and shame 
 a poor colleen ? Don't look at her name now ? 
 Bad luck to ye ! Don't, now !' 
 
 * 'Tis an order signed by the committee of the 
 United Irishmen — no lady's billet/ Major Sirr re- 
 plied coldly, holding the paper to the candle. ' My 
 friend, I regret to see you in this plight — but I 
 must do my duty.' 
 
 Eobert, on the first entrance of Sirr's lambs — for 
 such he knew them at once to be, though robed in 
 long gowns — made a rush to the window of the inner 
 room in order to alarm the college, but speedily 
 drew in his head again, for a row of muskets was 
 pointed at him which glinted, pallid, in the light of 
 early dawn. 
 
 'Trapped !' he exclaimed, wringing his hands in 
 despair. 'No, not yet!' Then, perceiving that 
 Sirr and his band, expecting no resistance, were 
 busily engaged gleaning together badge, constitu- 
 tion, and list of treasonable toasts, he stole to the 
 discomfited giant — a hero but a moment since — and 
 whispered rapidly, ( Come ! A dash at the door, 
 and we can get downstairs. I'll lead you to the- 
 campanile. One ring at the bell, and the college 
 will awake !' 
 
 Cassidy shook himself and appeared to under- 
 stand. Flinging aside the two men who loosely 
 held him, he batted forward, upsetting table and 
 lights, and in the confusion and darkness all who- 
 barred the passage. Swiftly he rolled, rather than
 
 TRINITY. 161 
 
 ran, down the steep staircase, closely followed by 
 Robert, and sent sprawling in the doorway a fat old 
 person, who yelped piteously for mercy. 
 
 f The junior dean !' ejaculated Robert. ' The 
 dastard ! Himself to betray our ancient rights \ 
 But come — we'll attend to him later — to the cam- 
 panile, to rouse the college !' 
 
 Sirr's lambs, recovering from their surprise, pur- 
 sued the fugitives ; but a little time was gained by 
 their all tumbling in a heap over the unhappy dean, 
 before he had time to scramble out of the way. 
 
 '0 Lord! Lord! I'm kilt! Follow them'/ 
 he panted; ' the campanile's at the corner of the 
 inner j^ard. If they ring the bell for a rescue, I'm 
 a dead man, for they'll surely murder me ! Oh 
 that I had never mixed in this hellish busiress !' 
 
 His lamentations died away in a groan, for Sirr 
 held a pistol to his head, calling the skies to witness 
 that he would shoot him unless he instantly led the 
 way. Never since he was a child did the pursy old 
 gentleman run as fast as he did now. Terror gave 
 wings to his gouty feet, and the invading party 
 reached the campanile to see Cassidy's burly 
 shoulder force in the door, and Robert Emmet b 
 precipitate himself within. It was a race who 
 should first reach the platform. 
 
 ' Is it the dean that's rooned us ?' Cassidy had 
 been exclaiming. ' By Jabers, then, I'll wring his 
 neck for him before he's much older ! Run, jewel, 
 for you know the place, which I don't, while I 
 attend to him. Here's a string that'll do the job/ 
 
 vol. i. 11
 
 162 MY LORDS OF ST ROGUE. 
 
 And in a trice lie had cut the rope which swung be- 
 fore him as high up as his long arms reached, and 
 was fasteniDg at one end a noose. 
 
 ' What are you doing V cried Robert, in dismay, 
 ' the ringing-rope of the great bell V 
 
 ' Oh, tear and 'ounds ! is it V murmured the 
 giant, with a blank look, as he dropped it. c Sure, 
 I tuk it to hang the dean with V 
 
 It was a fatal piece of stupidity, but the mischief 
 was irretrievable. The rope-end dangled just out 
 of Robert's reach. The men who had been watch- 
 ing in the inner yard closed in, and levelling their 
 muskets, summoned them to surrender quietly. By 
 the time Sirr's party came up with the panting 
 dean the giant was pinioned with the unlucky rope, 
 while Robert was in the grip of two sturdy 
 soldiers. 
 
 So much rowdiness was habitually perpetrated 
 within Triuity — such a succession of practical jokes 
 and madcap tricks — that none were likely to heed 
 the hubbub of this chase. Thomas, who had so 
 sagely recommended prudence half an hour since, 
 stood in bitter reverie among his fellow-prisoners, 
 reproaching himself mournfully for his blindness ; 
 wondering in self-abasement whether it was not 
 better after all that one who had at starting shown 
 himself so bad a chief, should be thus summarily 
 deposed from office. For he saw at once that his 
 fate would be the same as that of those already 
 sacrificed — either exile beyond seas, or dreary rotting 
 in Newgate or Kilmainham — for was not his signature
 
 TRINITY. 163 
 
 appended, in the capacity of newly-elected president, 
 to the paper which loyal Cassidy had tried to swallow? 
 And what a covey had been captured beside him- 
 self ! what gaps there would be now in the already 
 thinned ranks of those who were prepared to win or 
 perish ! Currants words had come true with regard 
 to the capture — was his other assertion equally 
 correct ? Was there a Judas in their midst who 
 was handing them over to the avenger, the while 
 he gave the kiss of fellowship ? The thought w 7 as 
 too horrible. Whom was he to suspect ? Not 
 Cassidy, or Bond, or McLaughlin, or his fervent 
 brother Robert — or Curran himself. None of these 
 — who then ? It must be Terence Crosbie, whom 
 they had weakly admitted behind the veil, trusting 
 to his honour as a gentleman. His honour ! One 
 of the semi-English aristocrats, whose brother was 
 a Blaster — whose mother was Clare's dearest friend. 
 Scales seemed to fall from his eyes, and he stood 
 staring at his own folly. It was evident that 
 Terence had coquetted with them merely to study 
 their plans. That frank air of bonhomie was 
 assumed. He was like his brother Glandore — only 
 more crafty and astute instead of imbecile; that 
 was all. He was deceiving Curran now as he had 
 deceived them, and Curran was watching over him 
 with the solicitude of a father. It was all too hor- 
 rible — the world a place of blackest infamy — 
 Ireland the darkest spot upon its face. Yet no. 
 His better judgment revolted against such a belief. 
 The fresh air was balmy; the yellowing sky of sur- 
 
 11—2
 
 1 64 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 passing loveliness. Man, if made of stuff so innately 
 vile, would never have been placed in so fair a 
 casket. Facts are stubborn things, though. The 
 meeting had been betrayed by somebody. Who 
 was the wretch ? 
 
 It was by this time quite light, and the town- 
 major deemed it wise to remove his prey before 
 early-rising undergraduates should be stirring. 
 He gave his orders therefore — softly, but with 
 martinet decision — and the party marched away, 
 leaving Eobert sitting on the platform. 
 
 ' I am ready/ he said, leaping up. ' I am one 
 with them, and will go quietly ;' but Major Sirr held 
 up his hand and grinned. 
 
 ( You are fine devil's spawn, no doubt/ he said, 
 while his nose wrinkled, { but we don't want you 
 just yet. You're but a baby blustering like a man. 
 Look at his smooth chin — or is it a girl ? New- 
 gate's a brave residence for summer, if your purse is 
 well lined ; if not, best hang yourself before going 
 thither. No, no ! I've no warrant to arrest your 
 ladyship — but your time will come, I doubt not.' 
 
 t Let him be !' cried his brother Thomas. 
 ' Whither do you take us ?' 
 
 ' First to Kilmainham with you,' Sirr replied 
 sharply. ' Then with the rest to Newgate ; then to 
 your offices to seize your precious newspaper, de- 
 molish your press, and scatter your type. Have you 
 any objection ?' 
 
 1 That is illegal/ Thomas affirmed, ' till the paper 
 is condemned for sedition.'
 
 TRINITY. 165 
 
 The town-major gave vent to a grumbling cachiu- 
 nation like the rattling of a skeleton in a cupboard, 
 but no smile lit up his sinister countenance. Then 
 he echoed : 
 
 ' Illegal, ha, ha ! That can be set right. For- 
 ward — march ! J 
 
 The cortege moved across the quadrangle, and 
 the massive gates of Alma Mater closed behind it. 
 Robert Emmett sat dazed, while the yellow in the 
 sky above the roofs changed to pink and then to 
 blue ; for they were gone — away from the sanctuary 
 into the wicked world without; no hue and cry 
 could save them now. The junior dean, his nerves 
 calmed by whisky-punch, lay cosily between the 
 blankets, dreaming of the bishopric he had won that 
 night. An early gownsman, flinging wide his 
 shutters before settling to his morning's work, 
 smiled down on the wild rake who must have come 
 in too drunk to find his way to bed. Boys will be 
 boys, though their mammas wish that they would act 
 as sages ; and they must season their heads while 
 they are young. 
 
 But the studious undergraduate was wrong in his 
 surmise. Excitable by temperament, delicate in 
 body, and overwrought in mind, Robert Emmett had 
 swooned away.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 CAIN AND ABEL. 
 
 
 EXT morning Mr. Curran rode early to 
 the Abbey, with news of the arrests which 
 he had been powerless to prevent. He 
 looked with an eye less jaundiced than 
 usual upon the world, for the sea-breeze instilled 
 fresh life into him, weary and jaded as he was from 
 many causes, and he felt that he deserved well of 
 her ladyship for saving her son from a scandal. 
 Though he laughed and joked in company, in 
 private he was nearly always sad, partly by consti- 
 tution, partly by reason of the sights he saw around 
 him ; and as he rode along this morning and medi- 
 tated concerning his foe Lord Clare, the flecks of sun- 
 light that chequered his mind vanished, leaving only 
 darkness and despondency behind. Oh, that chan- 
 cellor ! Would no one free Ireland from a tutelage 
 which became hourly more oppressive and capri- 
 cious ? Why could not the innocent conspirators
 
 ' CAIN AND ABEL. 167 
 
 be left alone ? Theobald, the whale, was gone. 
 Sure, naught but stirring up of dirty water could be 
 gained by harrying the minnows. It was unwise 
 to have locked up the lads with such a rattling of 
 locks and muskets. The raid upon Tom Emmett's 
 office, too, was a deplorable proceeding. No new 
 or special charge of iniquity had been brought 
 against his paper. Yet the place was ransacked in 
 his absence, his property destroyed, his chairs and 
 tables tossed out of window as though they carried 
 treason in their varnish. Lord Clare must be mad, 
 or desperately wicked. If he brought the country 
 to ruin, it should not be for want of warning. To 
 protest in parliament is one thiug, to argue and 
 implore in private is another. The little lawyer 
 decided to speak openly to Lord Clare at their very 
 next meeting, and clinched the matter in his mind 
 with such a thump of his hunting-crop as caused his 
 pony to leap forward and nearly throw his master 
 from the saddle. 
 
 Madam Gillin and her daughter Norah were 
 gardening as he rode past their hedge, and the 
 former hallooed to him to stop. Mr. Curran could 
 scarce forbear laughing at her appearance, so gro- 
 tesquely serious did she look in a frayed turban 
 soiled with pomade, and a crumpled frock of extra- 
 vagant fashion, from under which peeped a pair 
 of satin slippers down at heel. It was a thrifty 
 habit with Madam Gillin to wear out her old 
 quality-clothes at home, for she said that Norah 
 must have a fine dowry somehow, and that for that
 
 168 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 purpose it would be needful to economise. Now 
 her garments and her child's were always of the 
 flimsiest and most tawdry mode, profusely adorned 
 with feathers and spangles, trimmed with outrageous 
 frills and furbelows ; and the twain, who did not 
 trouble soap and water unless about to receive com- 
 pany, might be seen any day over the hedge which 
 divided their property from the main-road, strutting 
 up and down among the flower-beds like moulting 
 peacocks or birds of paradise in a decline. Madam 
 Gillin was lying nervously in wait for news this 
 morning, and hailed Currants appearance with 
 relief, for her nurse, Jug Coyle, had heard of the 
 arrests from frequenters of her shebeen, and vague 
 rumours were afloat that Terence was among the 
 captured. Oddly enough, although she had ap- 
 pointed herself guardian in ambush to the younger 
 son, she had never spoken to him : yet was she well 
 posted in all that concerned her protfyi down to 
 minutest details ; for were not all the array of 
 grooms, farriers, dog-boys, foot-boys, tay-boys — 
 what not ? — in the habit of frequenting that too-con- 
 venient boozing-ken whose insidious hospitality was 
 so offensive to their mistress at the Abbey ? This 
 was Madam Grillin's real reason for having estab- 
 lished Jug at the Irish Slave. Through her she 
 commanded an army of spies who, for a drop of the 
 crather, studied my lady's face, translated her 
 thoughts, imagined motives, as servants will who 
 are argus-eyed, imaginative, inquisitive, endowed 
 with a hundred ears. She was true to her trust of
 
 CAIN AND ABEL. 169 
 
 •watching over Terence, though she seemed to know- 
 nothing at all about him, resolved, if need were, to 
 do battle on his behalf, to point the finger of public 
 opinion at my lady if she behaved badly ; and now 
 she was sore perplexed concerning him, albeit he 
 wist not of a guardian angel in a dirty old turban 
 and crushed ostrich feathers. 
 
 Mr. Curran set her mind at rest, and turned up 
 the avenue which led to the Abbey. The youth had 
 certainly been present at the meeting, because the 
 Emmetts were among his closest friends ; but he 
 was not affiliated, he assured her ; and both agreed 
 •that his imagination must not be permitted to take 
 fire; that he must never be allowed to become a 
 member of the society. 
 
 When his nag turned the corner of the shrubbery, 
 the little lawyer found those he sought grouped in 
 front of the hall-door. My lady, in grey brocade, 
 with a twist of lace through her white hair, was 
 standing erect with crossed arms, looking with satis- 
 faction at Doreen and Shane. The girl, though 
 self-willed, had evidently taken her hint, and was 
 preparing to lay siege to Shane ; at least his fond 
 mother chose to think so, and was deceived, as 
 mothers often are. Just as grave people, for an idle 
 whim, will turn for a moment from lofty contempla- 
 tions to consider a pebble by the wayside, so calm 
 Doreen had been bitten by a conceit. In her self- 
 examination she had become convinced, with sorrow, 
 that the part of Judith was beyond her strength, if 
 Shane was to play Holofernes ; and, disgusted with
 
 170 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 her own weakness, had permitted her mind to settle 
 on my lady's nickname of Miss Hoyden. Being 
 proved incapable of supreme sacrifice, she felt a 
 wrathful desire for self-abasement, and resolved 
 that, if she could not please her aunt in great things, 
 she would do so at least in little ones, at the expense 
 of private tastes. 
 
 So, to Lady Glandore's surprise, she appeared on 
 this very morning in fashionable attire, which a week 
 ago she had haughtily declined to wear ; a sumptuous 
 high-waisted percale, broidered in forget-me-nots, 
 with great puffed sleeves and tight short skirt; low 
 shoes of blue satin with wide strings ; her beautiful 
 hair in a straight sheet down her back, plaited 
 together with straw, as the prevailing fashion was. 
 Perched on the top of her head was a dainty straw 
 bonnet, fit only for a fairy, and she looked under it, 
 with her thoughtful brown face and solemn eyes, 
 like some lovely victim tricked out in incongruous 
 frippery, who was destined to figure in some Hiber- 
 nian auto-da-fe. 
 
 * Young ladies of a strong-minded and serious 
 turn do evidently not array themselves in wonderful 
 garments without a reason/ so my lady argued. 
 ' Neither do they descend to coquetry, save for the 
 snaring of young men. Whom could Miss Wolfe 
 desire to snare, if not her cousin Shane V 
 
 This was well — extremely well. Unhappily, the 
 young lord was not struck with the bonnet, or with the 
 forget-me-nots. His mother saw that she would have 
 to guide his attention to his cousin's blandishments^
 
 CAIN AND ABEL. 171 
 
 Alack ! lie was in no mood to play the lover, being 
 prosaically engrossed with a throbbing brow and 
 swollen tongue. Shane, although he had ' made 
 his head/ and could driuk claret against most 
 people, was apt to feel faded of a morning, and to 
 retaliate for physical ills upon the first person who 
 came within his reach. Last night he had presided 
 over the Blasters, had shattered a decanter on the 
 pate of a gentleman who presumed to breathe hard 
 in his presence, and who, of course, had challenged 
 him to fight. So far so good; but the stranger 
 had shown himself so ill-bred as absolutely to decline 
 to draw his sword till certain business matters could 
 be arranged, and so the meeting was perforce post- 
 poned for a few hours — a most rude and inconside- 
 rate proceeding ! For might not the champion 
 Blaster, the admirable Hellfire, the Prince of 
 Cherokees, have other work upon his hands before 
 dinner-time? And besides, though money-debts 
 may wait for months without a smirching of the 
 niceties of honour, it is a bad example for the multi- 
 tude to allow duels to accumulate. Moreover, Shane 
 had promised, as it happened, to promenade with 
 the Gillins, in the Beaux Walk, on this particular 
 afternoon. Even an Irish earl cannot, like Roche's 
 bird, be in two places at a time ; and so the youthful 
 fire-eater fretted and fumed, cross with himself and 
 everybody else, heedless of his cousin's bonnet, and 
 longed to force a quarrel upon some one. 
 
 Terence was seated a few yards off, on the steps 
 of the young men's wing, which led to his own
 
 172 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 apartment, giving some directions to his private 
 henchman with regard to the manufacture of flies. 
 Now and then he threw a displeased glance at his 
 pretty cousin, marvelling for whose behoof she had 
 made herself so bewitching, and then, gnawed by 
 carking jealousy, turned to vent his spleen upon his 
 servant. 
 
 But honest Phil only grinned as he twined the 
 bright feathers with a skilful hand, nor heeded his 
 master's ill-humour; for was he not his foster- 
 brother, who loved the ground he trod on with the 
 blind devotion of a clansman ? He had been brought 
 up with Terence at a respectful distance, had learnt 
 Bible- stories with him from the tiles about the 
 hearth, and made himself generally useful as he 
 increased in years. Nothing came amiss to him. 
 He could farry, cure a cow of the murrain, tin a 
 saucepan, dance a jig, knit a stocking, sing a 
 cronane against any young fellow in the county. There 
 was nothing he would not do for Master Terence. 
 He followed at his heels like a dog, looking into his 
 eyes for orders as dogs do, bearing his whims and 
 caprices with stoical endurance, as we bear the wind 
 that blows on us. He was a type, was Phil, of a 
 creature who vanished with the century ; who, sharp 
 and clever enough, professed to no intellect of his 
 own, and was content to be led in all things by 
 another. His attire under all circumstances was the 
 same. A green plush coat, a scarlet vest, and buck- 
 skin breeches. A black leather hunting-cap was 
 always, in or out of doors, cocked on one side of Ihs
 
 CAIN AND ABEL. 175 
 
 shock head. Some people said he went to bed in it. 
 In his capacity of farrier, he invariably carried a 
 firing-iron as a walking-stick ; so that what with the 
 angel in ambush in the dirty finery, and the athletic 
 follower with the firing-iron, Terence Crosbie may 
 be said to have been well protected, even in days 
 when none were out of danger. 
 
 The Abbey party had also heard of the arrests, 
 and were all equally pleased when Currants figure 
 turned the corner of the drive — the queer squat 
 figure which all Dublin looked on with respect, with 
 its tightly-buttoned high-collared coat, snuffy wave 
 of loose necktie, white kerseymere breeches, and 
 top-boots. 
 
 ' Yes/ he said, in answer to a chorus of inquiries, 
 f the evil rumour was too true. He had ridden over 
 early to beg my lady to interfere on behalf of the 
 young people. Her influence over the chancellor 
 was great. The father of the Emmetts had been 
 state-physician, and, as such, had often prescribed 
 draughts for the countess's household. Would she 
 try to save his sons from peril V 
 
 c No, she would not. Lord Clare doubtless had 
 the best motives for what he did, and it would be 
 unseemly in the associate of his leisure-hours to 
 meddle in state affairs. It was plain that the scum 
 must be kept in their place, or what would become 
 of the nobles ? The abrogation of the Penal Code 
 was the wild fantasy of optimists ; for you might 
 as well give power to monkeys as to Catholics. It 
 could not, should not, be altered or lightened, for
 
 174 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 the safety of the dominant minority depended on the 
 Penal Code. The French disgrace of '89 would 
 never have appalled Europe, if the King had been 
 less soft-hearted/ 
 
 So spake my lady, in her most majestic way, and 
 Curran, as he smiled at the kindly, narrow-minded 
 woman, thought she looked more' like Queen Bess 
 than ever. There was no help to be expected from 
 this quarter for the poor fellows ; Doreen's stern 
 face convinced him of that much. He must even 
 buckle on his armour and have at Lord Clare in 
 person, when the first opportunity offered. 
 
 Terence's brow darkened as his chief talked of 
 the arrests, and of the outrage at Tone's offices. If 
 the chancellor was personally responsible for the 
 ill-judged performance, then was he distinctly in the 
 wrong. Might there be some truth in the pile of 
 accusations which were being heaped upon the 
 minister in power ? 
 
 My lady's high-flown babble jarred on his nerves. 
 Is there anything more painful than hearing one 
 you love and respect talking nonsense ? But no ! 
 It was not possible that the chancellor should be 
 acting as he did without good reason. We are all 
 apt to jump at conclusions and to blame people, 
 without seeking first for motives which may not 
 happen to lie upon the surface. Terence tried to 
 shake off his suspicions, and succeeded to a certain 
 extent, moved thereto, possibly, by feeling Doreen's 
 scrutiny fixed on him. When she appeared on the 
 terrace in her strange costume, she found, the
 
 CAIN AND ABEL. 175 
 
 brothers at high words, and reproved them straight- 
 way. Shane had used bad language in an under- 
 tone; Terence had blushed, and hung his head. 
 There was thunder in the air, which the damsel had 
 striven to dissipate. She was looking anxiously on 
 now, fearful of a collision of antagonistic elements, 
 and bit her lips and stamped her little foot as Shane 
 turned crossly to the visitor. 
 
 'Is it true, Curran,' he asked, with dyspeptic 
 peevishness, ' that my brother was with those 
 rascals ? I've asked him more than once, but it 
 seems he's afraid to confess/ 
 
 ' Afraid !' Terence cried, as white as ashes; then, 
 catching his cousin's eye, he went back, with set 
 teeth, to his fly-making. 
 
 ' I ought to have said ashamed,' apologised his 
 languid lordship. ' I presume that, being a Crosbie, 
 you are capable of feeling shame ? Or not ? You 
 are so queer, I think you were changed at birth/ 
 
 f To please me, be quiet,' implored Miss Wolfe, 
 with an earnestness which charmed my lady. ' You 
 two are perpetually squabbling !' 
 
 ' It is not my fault/ Terence grumbled, crushing 
 his fingers together to keep down his ire. ' Never 
 think, please, that I am afraid of you, Shane. We 
 cannot be afraid of that which we despise. If I am 
 queer, you are more so. I did not answer, because 
 I don't choose that you should interfere with me ; 
 but there is no reason why I should not. I was at 
 Robert's chambers last night. What then ? The 
 purity of that handful of fellows shines out through
 
 176 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 the general darkness in a way that enforces one's 
 respect. I do not say that they may not be carried 
 too far, but sometimes they make"me loathe myself 
 and you and all my belongings ; for in the abstract 
 we are bad, and deserve any retribution which may 
 fall on us/ 
 
 ' Better join them/ sneered Shane, with a feverish 
 hand upon his throbbing temples. 'When they 
 confiscate this property, maybe they'll make you a 
 present of it with the title. Oh, my head P 
 
 1 Yes, I was there/ continued Terence, doggedly ; 
 ' and they spoke wisdom mixed with folly — with 
 more of the one and less of the other than you are 
 accustomed to bestow on us. T do not mind admit- 
 ting that I wish I'd stopped. Maybe they'll think 
 that, knowing what was going to happen, I sneaked 
 away, and then I shall lose their esteem/ 
 
 'Oho! What a delectable conspirator!' laughed 
 my lord, cooling his aching head against the wall,, 
 while the cicatrice on his forehead grew red, and an 
 evil glitter shone in his eyes. ' Love and esteem, 
 eh ? And how about mine ? Will ye take a corner 
 of that ?' 
 
 With a spiteful movement he flicked a square of 
 cambric at his brother, who placed his hands behind 
 him and drew back ; for the insulting action, inno- 
 cent in itself, was one much in vogue for egging on 
 a quarrel. 
 
 My lady turned as white as Terence^while she- 
 cried out hastily : 
 
 f Shane ! what are you doing V
 
 CAIN AND ABEL. 177 
 
 Doreen looked on distressed, and Curran sighed, 
 while honest Phil was too discreetly busy with his 
 hackles to note anything that passed. 
 
 ' Shane, how dare you, before my face V said 
 his mother; then, her anger kindling, she turned 
 sharply on her younger son. ' It is your fault. 
 You know how easily provoked he is. I cannot 
 wonder at his being shocked by your behaviour/ 
 
 ' I too, mother, am easily provoked/ Terence 
 answered, his brow black with frowns. 
 
 ' As I have said before, more than once, though 
 you take no heed, you disgrace yourself by the 
 society you keep. The Emmetts are well enough — 
 I say nothing to the contrary, for indeed their 
 father was a worthy man. But I am told that some 
 of these people are linen-drapers. Is i f fitting 
 that a Crosbie should associate with tradesmen ? 
 They act blindly because they are low and do 
 not know better, but the same cannot be said of 
 you/ 
 
 My lady's lecture broke down, for whilst speakiug 
 of low people she remembered that her favourite 
 Shane also was addicted to low company. Alas ! she 
 knew too well that he was the beloved of tavern- 
 roysterers and petticoat-pensioners, who wept oily 
 drops of maudlin affection over his drunken gene- 
 rosity, and that that smart zebra-suit of his — yellow 
 and crimson striped — had not been donned to 
 captivate his family. 
 
 If Shane was easily provoked, which was very 
 true, he was also as easily bored as his father. 
 
 vol. 1. 12
 
 178 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 Eising with a gesture of impatience to retire from 
 the field, he cried out : 
 
 ' There, there ! what a pother, to be sure ! I was 
 only in joke. To hear your clatter, mother, one 
 would think the house was burning. If Terence 
 likes linen-drapers, I have no objection, but I can't 
 admire his taste. Faugh ! He's no better than a 
 half -mounted /' 
 
 1 Mother/ whispered Terence, trembling, ( do 
 you stand by and hear him V 
 
 But my lady made as though she was unaware of 
 this fresh taunt, though it was a dreadful one. 
 What a fearful thing for the head of a noble house 
 to brand his heir-presumptive with being a ' half- 
 mounted V Now the half-mounted were a distinct 
 class — a reckless feckless crew, each of whom pos- 
 sessed little beyond his horse and suit of clothes ; 
 who had no principles or education ; who existed by 
 pandering to the vices of their betters. They kept 
 the ground at horse-races, helped a lord to steal 
 a wench, knocked down her male relations, and 
 made themselves generally agreeable ; in return for 
 which they were tolerated, supplied with bed and 
 board, and treated to as much claret as they could 
 carry. They swarmed, not to be industrious like 
 the working bee, but to consume like the drone, and 
 to do mischief like the wasp. This class it was which 
 in '97 and '98 developed into the royaKst yeomanry 
 — the bully band of licentious executioners who did 
 the filthy work which was disdained by English 
 soldiers. A noble was described by the peasantry
 
 CAIN AND ABEL. 179 
 
 at this time as ' a gentleman to the backbone ;' a 
 landed squire as c a gentleman every inch of him/ 
 The younger sons of one of these, restrained as they 
 were by gentility from any but three professions, 
 sank more often than not into the habits of disso- 
 lute idleness to which young Ireland was constitu- 
 tionally prone, and dwindled into the condition of 
 the ' half-mounted/ whose career was usually closed 
 by a tap from a shillalagh in a brawl, or an attack of 
 delirium tremens. Therefore, that Terence should 
 be accused of being one of the swashbucklers by 
 his overbearing brother cut him to the quick, while 
 it roused as well the anger of the man who was as a 
 second father to him. Mr. Curran might possibly 
 have given the earl a bit of his mind, and so have 
 hammered such a breach 'twixt the two families as 
 both would have deplored in equal measure, had not 
 happily a huge golden coach come rumbling round 
 the corner at this moment, whose gorgeousness at- 
 tracted general attention, and diverted the thoughts 
 of the group into another channel. 
 
 Its body glistened in the sun like brass. Each 
 door-panel was adorned by an allegorical picture by 
 Mr. Hamilton, R.A. A posse of sculptured cupids 
 on the roof groaned under an enormous coronet; 
 Wisdom and Justice, carved and gilded, supported 
 the coachman on either side ; while Commerce and 
 Industry stretched forth their cornucopias behind 
 and clasped their hands together around the foot- 
 men's legs. A triumphal car it was, blazing with 
 gold and colour, enriched with velvet and embroidery, 
 
 12—2
 
 180 MY LORDS OF STEOGUE. 
 
 weighed down with gilded figures, dragged along 
 by six black horses sumptuously caparisoned. This 
 was my Lord Clare's new coach, which had cost 
 him no less than four thousand guineas — the out- 
 ward and visible sign of his amazing arrogance and 
 splendour. The party on the steps stood wonder- 
 stricken; but what surprised Curran even more 
 than the magnificent carriage, was the presence of 
 the person within it, who sat beside the chancellor. 
 It was Cassidy, the jolly giant, whom report said to 
 be in durance vile. He was released then. So 
 were, of course, the others, and Lord Clare had 
 remedied his blunder before its effects could be 
 seriously felt. So much the better. Such gladness 
 of heart was the little lawyer's that he forgot all 
 about the half- mounted, and proceeded to congratu- 
 late his enemy. 
 
 ' I don't understand/ the latter drawled, looking 
 down from under half-closed lids. ' Mr. Cassidy is 
 out because there was really nothing against him, 
 and his excellency talks of freeing the others by- 
 and-by, except Emmett, who is a ringleader — a 
 beast who must be caged/ 
 
 Curran felt a twinge of disappointment. ' A man 
 who must be made a martyr V he retorted. ' If you 
 leave him languishing, and free the rest, the injustice 
 of the proceeding will set them plotting more than 
 ever. That which is now but a heat-spot may be 
 irritated into a prevailing gangrene. Mind, I have 
 warned you. Yet how idle is it ! Such tricks as 
 yours may be expected from a renegade V
 
 CAIN AND ABEL. 181 
 
 The last words were muttered to himself, yet 
 Lord Clare heard them, but pretended not to do so, 
 as it was always his policy to excite his adversary 
 whilst keeping his own temper. 
 
 ( I assure you I am powerless/ he remarked 
 blandly. ' The Privy Council ' 
 
 ' Potent, grave, and reverend seniors V scoffed the 
 other ; ( scene-shifters and candle-snuffers from 
 Smock Ally, robed in old curtains I' 
 
 1 These turbulent fellows would destroy the Con- 
 stitution, my good Curran/ 
 
 ' Turbulent ! A pack of boys ! What does not 
 exist cannot be destroyed. A Commons chosen by 
 the people who hold thereby the strings of the 
 public purse — that is the first principle of a con- 
 stitution. The sham you prate about is, as you 
 know right well, deluged with corruption, flooded 
 with iniquity, a mere puppet in your hands, Lord 
 Clare. How sad it is that the vital interests of 
 millions should be sacrificed to the vices of an 
 individual ! You, and such as you, who have risen 
 from small things to a place in the Upper House, 
 should unite the nobles and the people instead of 
 trying to estrange them. But no, you think of 
 none except yourself. Erin is divided between the 
 slaves of your dominion, the servants of your 
 patronage, the enemies of your tyranny. Your 
 ambition will wreck us all. Your monument shall 
 be the execration of your motherland — the curse of 
 a ruined race your requiem V 
 
 Lord Clare's impudent leer was doing its work r
 
 i8 2 MY LORDS OF STROGVE. 
 
 for Curran, with every moment, grew more 
 chafed. 
 
 ' Really, our friend is quite amusing V exclaimed 
 the chancellor, pleasantly. ' Your ladyship's jester 
 assumes all the license which custom accords to 
 such persons. I confess that his exuberance bears 
 me down, for the art of managing foolish people 
 is as distinct and arduous as that of governing 
 lunatics/ 
 
 ' Whenever I see a man treat the world as if it 
 were made of fools/ sneered Curran, ' I suspect him 
 instantly to be a knave/ 
 
 ' Very pretty V laughed the other. ■ Parliament, 
 my good fellow ' 
 
 'Parliament V echoed his foe. 'You are always 
 ringing the changes on parliament and constitution 
 in a jangle that means nothing. Your parliament 
 has as much to do with the country as a corpse 
 with a crowner's quest. The rulers of this unhappy 
 land have played bowls with the constitution. Our 
 experience of government is through the vices of 
 its shifting plunderers, instead of the paternal pro- 
 tection of its sovereign — harpies who encamp awhile, 
 then retire laden with spoil — all save one, who, to 
 our grief, is bone of our bone, flesh of our flesh. 
 That one, my lord, is splendid indeed — by the 
 grandeur of his infamy — for he never^new shame 
 or decency or conscience ! He is double-faced ; a 
 traitor to that which he should love most in all the 
 world. He degrades his talent to the vilest uses, 
 and invents sham dangers to hide real ones. Like
 
 CAIN AND ABEL. 183 
 
 the sailor who, to possess himself of a bag of money, 
 tossed a burning brand into the hold, he cries 
 " Fire, fire !" to divert attention from himself/ 
 
 ' Really, really, my lady V laughed the chancellor, 
 with constraint, 'your jester improves daily. He 
 wallows in imagery as the swine in mire. My good 
 fellow, I fail to follow your meanderings, though I 
 seem to apprehend that you are cross about these 
 arrests ? 1 have naught to do with them — will you 
 be more comfortable if I swear it ? — but I must 
 admit, while doing so, that I am no advocate for 
 ill-judged leniency/ 
 
 ' If a man is so poor a rider as to cling to his 
 nag by the spurs, he must needs apply a strong 
 curb to control the madness he provokes/ 
 
 ( And I am that rider ? Thank you. Your lady- 
 ship's palace resembles the home of the tranced 
 Beauty. It is grievously begirt with thorns and 
 stinging-nettles. I vow I know not why our dear 
 Curran nourishes such asperity against me, for I 
 never did him a favour. But there, there ! He's 
 politically insane. A mountebank with one half his 
 talent for rant would make his fortune !' 
 
 * Were I one, my lord/ returned Curran, with a 
 bow, ' so presumptuous as to set my little head 
 against the opinions of a nation, I should be glad if 
 folks said I were insane V 
 
 Lord Clare's cheeks were beginning to be un- 
 usually rosy, for Doreen gazed at him with undis- 
 guised contempt, and my lady was evidently amused 
 in a half-malicious way at the encounter.
 
 i84 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 ' If you think/ he said loftily, ' that it will help 
 you into consequence, you are "welcome to bespatter 
 me; but be assured that I value you so little, 
 either as a lawyer or a man, that I must decline to 
 address you further till you learn manners.' 
 
 Lord Glandore was enchanted, and almost forgot 
 his headache, for he sniffed a good duel in the wind, 
 and was an artist in such matters. 
 
 ' I desired to plead with you against yourself/ 
 the little man said stiffly, ' wherein I was a fool, 
 because your heart, as we know, is ice. Nay, I 
 have done ; for I may not carry on a conflict wherein 
 victory can bring no honour !' 
 
 The countess smiled with thin lips, as Bess may 
 have smiled when Leicester and Essex were bicker- 
 ing. The fact of these sworn foes being constantly 
 here together, was in itself an indirect compliment 
 to her fascinations. Bowiug low to her ladyship, 
 Curran trudged across to the stable-yard, whither 
 his pony had trotted before; and Terence, from 
 whose face the devil had been peeping ever since 
 the speech about the half-mounted, followed him in 
 silence thither. 
 
 Lord Clare flicked the dust from his pink silk 
 stockings, and plumed himself complacently, as a 
 hawk does after a tussle with someJormidable fowL 
 
 'Fore Gad, my lady/ he said, 'you are too in- 
 dulgent. That animal must be banished from your 
 menagerie, for he is too rough a bear V 
 
 f A good man and true V returned my lady, with 
 decision ; [ despite his sharp tongue and unpre-
 
 CAIN AND ABEL. ' 185 
 
 possessing shell. He was hard on you, touching 
 you on the raw, and you got the worst of it, and 
 flew in a passion, and were rude, though you pride 
 yourself upon your temper. You must make it up 
 before you sit down to breakfast.' 
 
 Terence found his chief standing over his pony, 
 a prey to violent agitation. 
 
 1 My boy/ he cried out at once, e I must have a 
 blaze at that rascal !' 
 
 1 What rascal V asked the other, who, wounded 
 by his mother's indifference, was brooding on his 
 own trouble. 
 
 ' There's but one rascal in the world, and his 
 name's Clare ! I'll make a window through him, I 
 will, with sword or pistol, as suits him best. Go and 
 tell him so.' 
 
 ' Most obliging, no doubt,' said Terence, with a 
 half- smile ; 'but you must refrain this time, for my 
 sake. Indeed, you employed language such as sure 
 never before was used to a lord chancellor. If he 
 survives your words, no bullet can affect him.' 
 
 1 It's no use !' persisted the little man, shivering 
 like an aspen ; ' I shan't sleep until I shoot that 
 rascal.' 
 
 But Terence passed his arm affectionately within 
 his, and Curran perceived that there was something 
 amiss with him. 
 
 1 You have other duties, my old friend,' the young 
 man sighed. ' Come, come — you must be dignified.' 
 
 ' Is it I ?' returned the other, rubbing his nose 
 ruefully. ( I fear dignity is a robe which he who
 
 186 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 would box must lay aside during the sparring. 
 Maybe, when the fight's done, he'll find that it has 
 •been stolen during the battle ! A fig for dignity ! 
 I'd rather have a blaze.' 
 
 ( No !' pursued the young man, mournfully. ' For 
 my sake, you will abandon this quarrel. I must 
 leave this house, and to whose should I fly if not to 
 yours ? I must go away, for this can be borne no 
 longer. There is a limit to human patience, and 
 mine is a small allowance.' 
 
 ' Do nothing rashly,' Curran urged. 
 
 1 1 tell you I cannot bear it,' the young man re- 
 torted with vehemence. ' Who knows to what I 
 might be tempted if Shane should go too far ? I 
 tell you I dare not trust myself. And my mother 
 has no sympathy for me, as you saw ; for she was 
 superbly indifferent when he threw that insult in my 
 teeth. What cares she if I am insulted or not ? 
 Such words from another man, and I would have 
 sprung at his throat at once. When we fear temp- 
 tation, it is best to run away from it.' 
 
 Curran reflected for a moment, and then grunted : 
 
 ' Boy ! Coriolanus replied to his pleading parent, 
 " Mother, you have conquered." To oblige you, I 
 will not shoot Lord Clare.' 
 
 ' I thank you for making an old woman of me !' 
 Terence replied, with a tinge of iiumour. ' My con- 
 duct was somewhat like a woman's, I confess, for 
 sure no man should bear so great an insult, even 
 from a brother !' 
 
 ' You know best,' the little man said, patting his
 
 CAIN AND ABEL. 187 
 
 companion's shoulder fondly. ' But it seems sad 
 thus to shake off the dust of your ancestral home. 
 Maybe, if he sees you won't be put upon, my lord 
 may grow more civil. Shane no doubt is trying, 
 and you are a warm-complexioned young gentle- 
 man. Having no son, I would gladly take you to 
 fill the vacant place, as no one knows better than 
 yourself. You shall stay with me for a few months, 
 and I'll speak to her ladyship about my lord, who 
 must be taught to cultivate a civil tongue and 
 apologise ; for there must be no open rupture 
 between you. We'll say it's for convenience' sake, 
 as I want to make a great lawyer of you. There 
 are briefs you must study for me, and they pour in, 
 you know. How'll I get through the papers at all 
 at all, unless I have my junior near me ?' 
 
 And thus the matter was settled between them, 
 while the elder wondered what Mrs. Grillin would 
 think of the arrangement. She must be hood- 
 winked without delay to prevent mischief, or she 
 would come clamouring up to the Abbey in her 
 quality-clothes, and all the fat would be in the fire 
 at once. 
 
 Hearing a light footstep on the gravel, Terence 
 turned, and a pang shot through his heart as he 
 beheld his cousin. It was dreadful to leave her 
 behind, in the maw as it were of Shane. Yet what 
 difference could his absence make to one who treated 
 him so scurvily ? And those smart garments, too — 
 that aggravatingly bewitching bonnet — for whose 
 behoof were they intended ? Not for his, certainly.
 
 i88 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 All tilings considered, it was best tliat he should 
 go. 
 
 Meanwhile my lady calmly discussed a late break- 
 fast in the oak parlour with Lord Clare, unconscious 
 that the behaviour of her sons had been more in- 
 decorous than usual, while the originator of the 
 quarrel trifled languidly with an egg, speculating 
 about time and place, whether the duel between 
 Curran and the chancellor was to be with sword or 
 pistol. Why not directly after breakfast in the 
 rosary ? a capital spot, sheltered from wind and 
 observation. Terence would of course be Curran's 
 second ; Cassidy here, who had been hanging about 
 in a deprecatory manner, first on one leg, then on 
 the other, would be the chancellor's ; while he, my 
 lord, would see fair play. An excellent arrange- 
 ment. Then the combatants might amicably return 
 together to Dublin in the golden coach to set about 
 the business of the day. 
 
 Having settled the party of pleasure to his liking 
 and reviewed its details, the King of theCherokees was 
 no little disgusted to see Mr. Curran enter presently 
 and take his seat as if nothing had happened. My 
 lady, on the other hand, was mightily relieved, for 
 she liked the two almost equally well, leaning a 
 little perhaps to the side of the chancellor, on 
 account of his polish and fine ^manners. She was 
 not blind to the faults of eitner of her friends* 
 Clare, she knew, despised literature, in which Curran 
 delighted. He disdained the arts of winning; was 
 sullen sometimes, and always overbearing; and when
 
 CAIN AND ABEL. 189 
 
 he condescended to be jocular was usually offensive. 
 But then he was a dazzling- light. Curran was 
 particularly interesting to the stately countess by 
 reason of his marvellous energy and originality. 
 He was quicksilver — surcharged with life — restless, 
 sparkling, bewildering ; and it amused her to try 
 to control his erratic movements. Many a time she 
 lectured, in private, Curran with reference to Clare 
 — Clare with regard to Curran. 
 
 The latter was in the habit of deploring that the 
 former was a patriot lost, seduced by England, 
 because of his aristocratic proclivities. A patriot 
 cannot be a courtier, he constantly declared. The 
 ways of the aristocracy grow more brutal and more 
 reckless with impunity; the coarseness of their 
 debauchery would have disgusted the crew of 
 Comus ; their drunkenness, their blasphemy, their 
 ferocity, have left the ignorant English squires far 
 behind. To this the countess would reply (who 
 knew little of the Dublin monde, living as she did a 
 retired life) that he was biassed by the prejudice of 
 his Irish slovenliness, in that he could not look upon 
 a man as honest who wore clean linen and velvet 
 small-clothes. And so the friendly conflict would 
 go on, one scoriug a point and then the other, one 
 breaking into rage and the other apologising ; and 
 so the incongruous cronies wrangled along the road 
 of life, battling with the breezes which blew round 
 them, whether from east or west. 
 
 Mr. Curran sat down to his breakfast as if nothing 
 had happened, tucking a napkin into his vest, and
 
 190 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 handing my Lord Clare, with biting amiability, the 
 salt or the butter or the bread, while my lady 
 marked with satisfaction that this tempest was but 
 a squall. That the chairs of Terence and her niece 
 should remain unoccupied was a matter of no 
 moment, for the former was probably sulky after 
 his snubbing ; while as for Doreen, her conduct was 
 always more or less improper. Perhaps her serene 
 ladyship would have been ruffled if she could have 
 looked on them in the stable-yard, for they were 
 standing very close together, the one subdued by 
 the prospect of leaving his home for the first time, 
 the other saddened with thinking of the arrests. 
 
 They stood very close together, oblivious of the 
 morning meal; and Terence caressed the moist 
 muzzles of the hounds with lingering fingers, while 
 his cousin observed that an interesting air of sad- 
 ness suited him. A too healthy look, a too ruddy 
 cheek, are to be deprecated as unfavourable to 
 romance ; yet is there a peculiar and specially cap- 
 tivating interest about a humdrum exterior with a 
 blight on it. Terence was too fat and sleek j un- 
 heroic, prosaic to an absurd degree. At least his 
 cousin chose to think so as she looked at him. Then 
 she glanced down at her own fine raiment with dis- 
 gust, and hated prosperity. What right had she to 
 flaunt in delicate muslins while her people were in 
 bondage ? Sackcloth and ashes Vould become her 
 better, now that the last champions of her faith 
 were pining in duress. As for the youth here, it 
 was only fitting that he should be fat and sleek ; for
 
 CAIN AND ABEL. 191 
 
 was he not a Protestant, one of the oppressors ? 
 What was his trouble to her trouble — sorrow for a 
 race ground down ? True, his mother loved him 
 not, and his brother was inconsiderate. He should 
 have spoken boldly, putting his foot down as 
 Doreen would have done, though his was big and 
 hers was tiny — demanding at least some sort of 
 respectful consideration, instead of wrapping him- 
 self in injured airs as he proposed to do. And as 
 the thought passed through her mind it was touched 
 by a tinge of self ; for if Terence were to go away, 
 one of the safeguards of his cousin's peace would 
 slip from her. With the instinct of intrigue, which 
 is planted in the staidest of female bosoms, she had 
 determined that the best way, perhaps, of counter- 
 acting her aunt's eccentric marriage scheme would 
 be to play one brother off against the other. As to 
 a match with Shane, that was out of the question ; 
 to marry Terence would be equally undesirable. 
 Even now, the wistful humility with which he sur- 
 veyed her fairy bonnet was conducive only to 
 laughter. He did not care for her any more than 
 she cared for him — of course not. But is it not 
 de rigaeur for youths to sigh intermittently after 
 domesticated cousins till the moment for the grande 
 passion arrives, when they breathe like furnaces and 
 threaten to fling themselves out of windows ? His 
 was clearly a case of primary intermittent fever, 
 which was not a serious cause for alarm ; and the 
 damsel was quite justified in employing its vagaries 
 for the protection of her own peace. My lady's
 
 192 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 project, she considered, would tumble to pieces in 
 time through inherent weakness. Till that auspi- 
 cious moment arrived it would be necessary to stave 
 off a crisis. It was merely a matter of time — a 
 brief struggle between two strong wills, in which 
 my lady would succumb, as she invariably did when 
 pitted against her stubborn niece. For this reason 
 it was annoying that Terence should go away, and 
 Doreen felt tempted to employ such arts as she 
 might, without being unmaidenly, for the prevention 
 of a family split. She said therefore, with a dis- 
 tracting glance of her brown eyes, while eager 
 muzzles wormed into her hand : 
 
 1 Is this quite irrevocable ? The house will be 
 so dull without you/ 
 
 ' I would stay if you really wished it/ blurted out 
 the inflammable youth, pinching a cold nose till the 
 dog — its owner — broke away howling. ( You know 
 there is nothing I would not do to please you, 
 Doreen V 
 
 i Is there not V she returned, with a ring of bitter- 
 ness, for she was too straightforward to feel aught 
 but impatience for idle protestations. ' To please 
 me, would you give up all for Erin, as Theobald has 
 done ? No — you would not. A fine-weather sailor, 
 Terence ! You give up anything, who have all 
 your life been lapped in luxury — and why should 
 you ? Thanks to Mr. Curran, ^the legal ball is at 
 your foot, and you only need to work to become 
 rich and happy. But I shall be sorry to miss your 
 bright face, for all that/
 
 CAIN AND ABEL. 193 
 
 A second flash, as of a burn in sunlight, carried 
 the lad beyond his usual prudeuce. With discon- 
 certing suddenness he seized her hand and brought 
 his flushed cheek close to hers. 
 
 ' Doreen V he gasped. ' If you will love me and 
 be my wife, I will do anything and bear anything. 
 You've only to direct. Pm poor I know, but I 
 will work, for I am capable of better things if I 
 have an object/ 
 
 But Miss Wolfe, though far from a coquette, was 
 gifted with presence of mind. Her intention had 
 been not to provoke an untoward declaration such 
 as would exasperate her aunt, and, possibly, Lord 
 Glandore ; but to use this impulsive swain as a 
 bulwark of protection against the assaults of my 
 lady. Perchance, under the circumstances, it was 
 better that he should depart for a few months to 
 cool his too explosive ardour. It would not do to 
 encourage, nor yet to quarrel with him. She 
 escaped from him therefore, holding up her pretty 
 hands, and said demurely : 
 
 ' Of course, if Mr. Curran really wishes it, you had 
 better obey. It is a long ride for you every morning 
 from the Abbey to the Four-courts/ 
 
 The Priory, on the other side of Dublin, was 
 about the same distance from the Four-courts, 
 Terence thought with anger. The girl was playing 
 with him, as she always did. 
 
 'I hope Sara will make you comfortable/ she 
 went on. c No doubt she will, she is so sweet a 
 girl. Then we shall meet at Castle balls, and you 
 
 vol. 1. 13
 
 194 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 shall lead me out for a rigadoon like a mere 
 stranger. That will be funny, will it not ? You 
 don't mean what you say one bit, and it is a relief 
 to me to know that it is all flummery — you silly, 
 hot-pated, blarneying Pat ! Come along. We will 
 go and eat our breakfast and be thankful that we 
 have one to eat, instead of talking nonsense. That 
 is all that you or I are fit for, I am afraid ! For it 
 is not such as you nor I who are destined to save 
 poor Ireland !'
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE PRIORY. 
 
 YEAR went by, and Terence was still 
 away from home, an inmate of the 
 Priory; settled down, much against 
 his will, as a sober councillor, principal 
 assistant to Mr. Curran, the continually rising ad- 
 vocate. Sober is scarcely the fitting epithet, for 
 conviviality was the besetting sin of all classes of 
 Irish in the eighteenth century, and it was notorious 
 that legal gentlemen, from Judge Clonmel to the 
 meanest attorney, were constantly in the habit of 
 going drunk to roost. Where lawyers led, Dublin 
 was fain to follow, for the Bar took the lead in 
 the society of the metropolis, occupying a strong 
 middle position of its own between ' gentlemen to 
 the backbone ' and ' half-mounted ' ditto, from 
 which it dictated to both. As the policy of minis- 
 ters grew more and more unpopular, it became 
 more and more urgent that Government patronage 
 
 1^—2
 
 196 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 should be expended in purchasing support for the 
 measures under which the country groaned ; and 
 where could support be more easily found than 
 among the exponents of forensic wisdom ? 
 
 Successfully to do battle with Flood and Grattan 
 it was necessary to scrape together as much intellect 
 as was available, and so every promising barrister 
 became certain of a seat in parliament if he would 
 furbish up his brains for the Viceroy's benefit. 
 This gave to the lawyers a prestige which drew 
 sons of peers within their ranks, and they assumed 
 superior airs, which no man challenged, in that their 
 profession was a nursery to the senate — a step-ladder 
 to the highest honours. Younger sons of noble 
 houses invariably lean towards the middle class, 
 because a wide difference of income divides them in 
 feeling and ways of thought from their elder 
 brothers. Such lordlings as possessed a compe- 
 tence chose to while away their hours elegantly in 
 gowns and bands. And so the Bar became the 
 fashion, the lawyers being credited with such 
 attributes as they thought proper to adopt, and 
 being permitted to wield an arbitrary sway which 
 was beneficial and mirth-inspiring. They assumed 
 the right of mind over matter, and people bowed 
 the knee without inquiry, for they were pre-emi- 
 nently jolly dogs who made life the merrier, whose 
 scraps of legal lore sounded mightily sonorous to 
 ignorant ears, and who, if one was rash enough to 
 presume to dispute their law, were always ready to 
 take refuge behind the inevitable pistol. But
 
 THE PRIORY. 197 
 
 human nature at its best is frail, and even lawyers 
 are not always pure. When came the tag of war 
 — when the Four-courts were closed and courts- 
 martial juggled away men's lives — the councillors 
 prated no more of their incorruptible virtue, but 
 donned the uniform as others did, and truckled, 
 with a few bright exceptions, as meanly as the 
 rest. 
 
 But we are now in 1796, when King Claret ruled 
 the roast; when all were besotted with drink, from 
 Clonmel who gave sentence with a drop in his eye, 
 to the beg*gar in the dock who starved his stomach 
 to buy a drain of spirits ; when out of the six thou- 
 sand houses which formed Dublin, thirteen hundred 
 were occupied as boozing-kens ; when guests were 
 deprived of their shoes by a host who understood 
 hospitality, and broken glass was sprinkled in the 
 passages to prevent a man from jibbing at his 
 liquor. 
 
 Mr. Currants fears were being realised in this 
 year of '96, for the criminal business to which he 
 had turned his attention was increasing on his 
 hands through the swelling torrent of treasonable 
 charges. My Lord Clare's policy was bearing its 
 full crop of evils, for he had succeeded in moulding 
 the too plastic Viceroy into the shape that suited 
 him, according to the plan laid down by Mr. Pitt. 
 Lord Camden, whilst meaning to do well, was re- 
 peatedly led astray, as many a better man has been 
 before him. To Clare he was a docile cat. He 
 submitted to the secret council of Lords — that
 
 198 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 mysterious wehmgericht — who were urged by the 
 chancellor to the most violent proceedings, and 
 became unconsciously a scapegoat for the bearing 
 of the sins of others. 
 
 Under skilful manipulation the Society of United 
 Irishmen nourished prodigiously. Tom Emmett 
 and Neilson were kept in prison, where they lan- 
 guished without trial. Others were let out and 
 caged again as occasion required, that they might 
 inflame their fellows with a catalogue of dread ex- 
 periences. Midnight meetings resulted, wherein 
 orators declaimed of the wickedness of the perfidi- 
 ous one, and summoned all true patriots to take the 
 fatal oath. The decision which had been come to 
 on the disastrous night in Trinity was carried out to 
 the letter, and was much assisted in its fulfilmeut 
 by the harsh treatment of the chiefs. The military 
 system was engrafted on the civil. 
 
 Faithful to his promise, Cassidy rode to Belfast, 
 delivered Emmett's order to the delegates there, 
 and then with commendable prudence subsided 
 into the background. The provincial committee 
 spread out its arms, from which new ones were 
 speedily engendered, and passed resolutions of 
 grave import, while England stifled her merriment. 
 Civil officers were to wear military titles. A secretary 
 over twelve was to become a petty officer with gew- 
 gaws on his coat ; a delegate over five of these, a 
 captain, with more gewgaws ; a superior over five 
 captains, a color el with a plume; mighty fine ! The 
 colonels of each county were to send three names to
 
 THE PRIORY. 199 
 
 the central directory, from which one was to be 
 chosen adjutant-general of his county to deal 
 directly with the capital. And thus a national 
 army was forming in the dark, just as the Volun- 
 teer army had sprung up in the daylight, with 
 the important difference that by this time England 
 had cured her wounds and regained her pristine 
 strength. 
 
 I protest that this linen-draper-medley masque- 
 rading in galoon would be laughable, were it not so 
 sad a spectacle. But who shall dare to laugh at honest 
 men, whose delusions are nursed and played upon 
 instead of being tenderly swept away ? Currants 
 sympathies were with the reformers, but not his 
 judgment; and he became a sort of link between 
 two parties. His position as a lawyer gave him the 
 entree to the best houses, whilst his homely habits 
 and untidy dress caused the lower orders to look on 
 him as one of themselves. Between the rival 
 parties he shillyshallied with a weakness which his 
 character belied, grumbling at the patriots for their 
 imprudence, growling at the sins of Government, 
 very uncomfortable in his mind, and of no use so 
 far to either of the opposing factions. 
 
 As the members of the society committed them- 
 selves more deeply, Lord Clare became more gay. 
 He hinted to the half- mounted gentry that if they 
 liked it they might volunteer as active agents against 
 the misguided youths who were preparing to turn 
 Ireland topsy-turvy. Nothing could please the 
 squireens better than this tacit permission to give
 
 200 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 vent to their worst passions. Brutal, cruel, syco- 
 phantic (as ignorant and depraved natures are), they 
 began to band themselves in regiments, with nobles 
 for superior officers, and to commit outrages on 
 those below them, pretty certain that they would 
 be indemnified for any atrocity they might commit. 
 L'appetit vient en mangeant. The peasant, ground 
 down and wretched to the level of the serf of 
 Elizabeth, howled out that Justice was indeed fled, 
 and hearkened with ravenous avidity to the voice 
 of the charmer who sang of French ships in the 
 offing, and a proximate term to misery. Drilling 
 went on under cover of night, and the practice of 
 the pike, since gunpowder could not be purchased ; 
 and the shibboleth anent the bough which was to 
 be planted in England's crown might be heard a 
 hundred times in whispers on every market-day. 
 
 But, misery or no misery, folks must eat and 
 drink, and the Hibernian nature — as quick to 
 resent as to forgive, as vehement as indiscreet — is 
 given to extremes, from sadness to mirth and back 
 again. 
 
 Mr. Curran, though his heart w r as sore, was fond 
 of dainty viands, amd beguiled himself, as others 
 did, with the pleasures of the table; striving to 
 drown, with a clatter of knives and forks, the 
 din of approaching tempest. His. board was ever 
 sumptuously garnished, his claret of the best, his 
 welcome of the warmest, and few who were bidden 
 to partake of it ever declined his hospitality. 
 
 Timid Arthur Wolfe, who was growing more
 
 THE PRIORY. 
 
 cautious every day, and doing his best to serve two 
 masters for his daughter's sake, implored his friend 
 to take example by himself, demonstrating in the 
 clearest way that the history of my Lord Clare was 
 becoming the history of all Ireland, and that a man 
 with a child's future in his hands has no right to run 
 a-muck. He had found out that the chancellor had 
 endeavoured to buy Curran, and failing ignomini- 
 ously in that attempt, was trying to undermine his 
 business. Why be for ever snarling* at Lord 
 Clare ? It would be the old story of the pipkin 
 and the iron pot. To which arguments Curran an- 
 swered, laughing : 
 
 1 Is it I that's the frog, and he the bull ? Maybe 
 it'll turn out t'other way. I'm mad, no doubfc, to 
 set my small pebble to stop his chariot, but many a 
 trivial thing has proved the factor in a great catas- 
 trophe, and I'll even insert my pebble. Fudge, 
 Arthur ! I'm too popular, and my life's too open 
 for even Lord Clare to wreak his vengeance on 
 me.' 
 
 Then Arthur Wolfe persisted, entreating that at 
 least he would avoid the charge of holding seditious 
 meetings at his house. The weekly dinners at the 
 Priory were jovial, he admitted, beyond compare. 
 The cup went round as merrily as if Erin were a 
 buxom wench, dimpled, and well-to-do — but there 
 could be no denying that those who drank of it 
 were marked men mostly, who knew the inside of 
 Newgate as well as the Priory parlour, and these 
 were ticklish times for political flirtation. What
 
 202 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 would befall Sara, honest Arthur pleaded, if an 
 accident were to befall the councillor ? So delicate 
 a blossom would shrivel under the first frost- 
 nipping. On her father's head must rest the con- 
 sequence if misfortune crushed his child. 
 
 At mention of Sara Mr. Curran would become 
 exceedingly perplexed, torn by two apparently in- 
 compatible duties, as he reflected on his pale prim- 
 rose. How wonderful are the decrees of Fate ! 
 Why are beings, abnormally sensitive and delicate 
 — whose fibres are liable to injury by the most care- 
 ful handling — pitchforked into a world of stones 
 for the express purpose of being bruised ? Sara's 
 nature was one which needed sun and flowers, 
 hourly solicitude and broidered blanketing, yet 
 here was she cast upon a rocky coast, battered by 
 cold winds, which threatened to become each day 
 more easterly ! Was she sent to earth merely to bear 
 pain, to linger for a space in more or less protracted 
 agony, and then to die ? Possibly. It is a cruel 
 creed to accept, but the experience of the world we 
 live in forces it upon us. Perchance we shall learn 
 to see a reason for it later on. 
 
 The crash was coming, as none perceived more 
 •clearly than Mr. Curran. Might anything avert it ? 
 Nothing. What would happen to cherished ones in 
 the throes of the hurricane ? BilfcJiow bootless was 
 such self-communing ! Fais ce que devra ! Mr. 
 Curran was determined not to shrink from duty to 
 the soil which gave him birth. Though the days of 
 Roman virtue were overpast, he would sacrifice his
 
 THE PRIORY. 203 
 
 heart's treasure on the altar if need were, trusting 
 to God's mercy for the rest ; and it was the kernel 
 ■of his project to keep watch over the society — with 
 it in the spirit, but not of it in the body. He 
 was wont to say with pride that he had never 
 wittingly snubbed any man who was in earnest. 
 Self-willed himself, he respected those who strove 
 •to make themselves, and respected men doubly if 
 their aspirations were unselfish. He said to him- 
 self that the motives of this small self-sacrificing 
 band were pure where all else was foul ; that though 
 for their own sakes he dared not espouse their 
 tenets openly, yet it would be a coward's act to 
 deprive them of his countenance and advice because 
 they walked in danger. So lie shook his head at 
 time-serving Arthur Wolfe, and went his inde- 
 pendent way, and waited for his chosen guests each 
 "Wednesday afternoon, caring no fig for Lord Clare's 
 menaces, sorry only that he continued to exist. 
 
 He stood straddle-legged at thy hour of five on 
 a reception- day, among the dishevelled laurestinus 
 bushes, which he was pleased to call his avenue, 
 swinging his portly watch by its ribbon — as his way 
 was when guests were late. The Priory was a snug 
 abode, if not endowed with beauty ; but then the 
 works of man in Ireland are seldom in beautiful 
 accordance with the handiwork of God. It was a 
 frightful ungainly villa erected in the hideous style 
 of Irish suburban architecture, with attenuated slits 
 of windows and tall consumptive doors set half-way 
 up in a bald waste of rough whitewashed wall.
 
 204 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 The usual alpine stair led to the entrance ; arranged, 
 as it appeared, for the purpose of setting an 
 honoured guest on a glorious pinnacle of observa- 
 tion, till slipshod Kathy could hitch up her draggled 
 skirts to let him in. 
 
 From the parlour window might be admired a 
 prospect of barn, dunghill, dovecote, horsepond, 
 piggery, which offered to the nose in summer a 
 bouquet of varied sweets ; while the usual yard or 
 two of road swept round the usual dark circular 
 grassplot with a mouldy rhododendron in the centre 
 of it. The orchard behind was christened by its 
 owner his pistol-gallery, but it was at the same 
 time a forum; for there might Mr. Curran frequently 
 be seen of a morning, declaiming with Demosthenic 
 energy, whilst he lodged bullets at intervals in the 
 bark of special trees. 
 
 The odour of savoury viands assailed his nostrils 
 as he stood statue-like on the pinnacle and whirled 
 his watch, for he hated unpunctuality above all 
 things. His beetle-brows were knit, his lower lip 
 protruded, and he wondered whether any of his 
 guests had been arrested. That was naturally his- 
 first fear, and he wagged his head with gloom at 
 some ducks that quacked in a neighbouring puddle 
 as he surveyed the lugubrious possibility. 
 
 { Idiots V he moralised. ' Pictures of ourselves, 
 who dream of dinner as though sorrow could not 
 wake. Alas ! Fate is common and the future is un- 
 seen, as the Arab proverb has it. You rejoice in 
 the balmy showers, do you ? — not knowing, in your
 
 THE PRIORY. 205 
 
 crass ignorance, that they will make the peas grow ! 
 And here are we, as foolish as you, going in for a 
 jollification, as though a few months might not 
 bring grief to all of us ! Ahem ! It is well that 
 we are a careless nation, or every Irishman would 
 cut his throat before he grew to manhood/ 
 
 Terence, who was drawing corks as if catering 
 for an army, laughed aloud, for he at least showed 
 no signs of brooding melancholy ; being prepared 
 rather to take life as he found it, and enjoy it too, 
 for his bright brave nature endeared him to all, and 
 he was himself too frank to believe in the pervading 
 blackness of the human heart. As Doreen pic- 
 tured, he had attended the Castle balls during the 
 winter, and had led out his cousin for a turn of 
 passepied or rigadoon without much sighing ; had 
 dutifully called on his mother when Shane was safe 
 away, and had spent the rest of his time yawning 
 over briefs for the behoof of Mr. Curran. 
 
 These briefs caused little disputes sometimes 
 between the two, which it became Sara's duty to 
 smooth away — for Terence was wofully idle and 
 abhorred his work, being wont to declare that intel- 
 lectual labour was one thing*, and unintellectual 
 drudgery another, till his chief waxed exceeding 
 wroth, and asserted that idleness led to mischief. 
 Sometimes there appeared a flickering flame of am- 
 bition in him, which Curran tried hard to foster ; but 
 before he had time to fan it, Terence would cry, e Oh, 
 bother V and, flinging the brief into the garden, 
 go forth to fish with Phil. No one could be angry
 
 206 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 with him long. Idleness seems to suit some 
 natures, which appear moulded for the enjoyment 
 of other people's labour. 
 
 In the ways of the world Terence was an infant ; 
 in the balance of right and wrong inclined to be 
 unsteady from sheer indolence of brain. His 
 bubbling, brawling flow of spirits deceived casual 
 observers, who set him down as frivolous, impelled 
 by the lightest breeze. Doreen, whose experience 
 was limited, thought him so with a feeling of affec- 
 tion, in which contempt was mingled ; but Curran 
 knew better. He knew that many a sensitive man 
 wilfully assumes a disparaging exterior to mask his 
 holy of holies even from himself. He knew that 
 few among us ever quite know ourselves ; but wake 
 up sometimes in the decline of life to discover new 
 virtues or new vices, of whose existence we were 
 quite unconscious ; that we come to know our own 
 characters by flashes, just as we learn those of our 
 nearest and dearest friends. 
 
 Terence was a general favourite ; a hearty devil- 
 may-care young fellow, with a good digestion and 
 few individual troubles, and was looked upon with 
 awe by gentle little Sara, as he helped in her house- 
 hold cares. Indeed, Mr. Curran was justified in 
 being cross this day, for the repast was ready, if 
 the guests were not. Yeal, turkey, ham — all piping 
 hot — smoked in their respective dishes. Powldoody 
 oysters smiled as a centre-piece, flanked by speckled 
 trout, caught but an hour ago by Terence's servant 
 Phil. Rows of wine-bottles garnished the parlour
 
 THE PRIORY. 207 
 
 wainscoting ; the trim little hostess was squeezing 
 lemons into a jug on the hearthstone, with a view 
 to prospective punch. He spun his watch faster 
 and faster as moments waned, more and more cer- 
 tain that something untoward must have happened, 
 and was no little relieved by the sound of horses' 
 feet, and the sight of his party approaching. 
 
 1 Hooroo, boys V he cried cheerily, shaking off 
 his gloom. ' Ye're late, but no mather ; ye're wel- 
 come, and shall carry home what ye like with ye, 
 rather than an appetite/ 
 
 Sara had a becoming blush ready for her under- 
 graduate, as he approached to kiss her hand. She 
 looked shyly in his eyes, and marked with uneasiness 
 that they were growing very dreamy, while an 
 habitual contraction fretted his forehead, which she 
 knew came from distress about his brother. She 
 knew — for sometimes she took entrancing walks 
 with him — that his temper was becoming soured 
 and his spirit chafed, in that Tom languished on in 
 prison without trial. Was not such injustice out- 
 rageous ? The charges against him were grave, no 
 doubt ; that bit of paper which blundering Cassidy 
 had failed to swallow was compromising in a high 
 degree; but then others quite as much compro- 
 mised were let off long since with a fine, whilst 
 Tom remained untried. Any trial — before a jury 
 however packed — would be better than such linger- 
 ing suspense. If the worst came to the worst, the 
 crown of martyrdom, which would go with con- 
 viction, would be some small comfort ; but to have
 
 2o8 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 lain rotting in a gaol for a year, to be immured 
 without a term till well-nigh forgotten, was like the 
 death of a rat in a hole ; and as ardent young 
 Robert thought of it, his constitutional dread of 
 bloodshed almost went from him. Seeing what 
 he was forced to see, he regretted his oath in no- 
 wise. 
 
 Among many enthusiasts few were so enthusiastic 
 as this boy — few looked so hopefully for news of 
 Tone and of his doings in France. The newspaper 
 of his imprisoned brother had somehow revived, 
 though the guiding hand was shackled, and wonder- 
 ful articles appeared in its pages which might well 
 have brought down, for the second time, the chan- 
 cellor's vengeful claw on it. But such rash ebulli- 
 tions of an imprudent ardour were just what Lord 
 Clare required. Nobody knew who edited Tom's 
 journal now (possibly many had a finger in it). It 
 certainly was not Robert, for he was but eighteen 
 and a student still of Trinity ; but that he helped 
 and gambolled on the chasm's verge, his friends did 
 know, and remonstrated with him more than once. 
 
 Curran was constantly lecturing him, but without 
 effect, for the froward boy only bade him attend to 
 his own affairs; suggested that if he wanted to 
 save somebody from the vortex he had better look 
 after his own future son-in-law, and this made 
 Curran angry. Yes ; this was one of the things 
 which had resulted from Terence's leaving home. 
 Busybodies had winked and nodded, declaring that 
 the little lawyer was wise in his generation ; that,
 
 THE PRIORY. 209 
 
 Laving feathered his nest, he might do worse for 
 Sara than introduce her into the peerage with a 
 plump dowry. If a trifle reckless he was shrewd, 
 they said ; for whilst dallying with the United 
 Irishmen he had taken care to drag along with him 
 the brother of a great lord, who could not well 
 interfere on behalf of a near kinsman without also 
 throwing the asgis of his rank over another who ran 
 in couples with him. The busybodies talked non- 
 sense, as they generally do. Mr. Curran had no 
 views as yet with regard to Sara, and required the 
 protection of no aristocratic segis. His reputation 
 had risen so high during the last twelve months by 
 reason of the splendid bravery with which he had 
 defended the foes of established government, that 
 neither Pitt nor Clare dared at this moment to 
 touch the champion. His place at the Bar was 
 so unique that there was no man, not merely 
 next, but near him. Other advocates were to him 
 as the stars to the sunbeam. In court he was at 
 once persuasive, eloquent, acute, argumentative; 
 striking with cunning hand the chord of pity, then 
 (for he knew his audience) checking the rising tear 
 with laughter. As a cross-examiner he was un- 
 rivalled. Let truth and falsehood be ever so intri- 
 cately dovetailed, he could part them with a touch. 
 Swiftly he would place his finger on a vital point, 
 untwist a tangle and involve perjury in the confu- 
 sion of its contradictions. So long as he retained 
 his purity, it would never do to assail this Galahad. 
 vol. 1. 14
 
 210 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 All were aware of that, and so lie needed no help 
 from a great lord. 
 
 Yet many wondered whether he might be secretly 
 afraid of being ensnared ; whether, foreseeing the 
 struggle that was imminent, he might not deem it 
 prudent to prepare a sure method of escape. The 
 children of darkness have more ways of circumvent- 
 ing the children of light than it is at all pleasant 
 for you and me (who of course belong to the latter 
 category) to reflect upon. He was ill judged, pos- 
 sibly, in throwing a young man like Terence into 
 too close contact with the would-be reformers. But 
 then was not that youth already a friend of the 
 Emmetts and of Tone? Was not his innate lazi- 
 ness a bulwark of defence ? Was he not in the 
 habit of defending Lord Clare, and of pointing out 
 that party-spirit embitters people to the point of 
 shameful slander ? As yet he declined to admit 
 that the chancellor had horns and hoofs. 
 
 Although he scorned the worldly-wise advice of 
 Arthur Wolfe, Mr. Curran was careful, when he 
 could, to check open expressions of sedition at his 
 table. On this very day he found it necessary 
 several times to change the current of talk before 
 the cloth was removed, when Sara, nodding plea- 
 santly to Terence and to her undergraduate, rose 
 and withdrew to her chamber^ 
 
 But there was a special reason on this particular 
 day for an extra amount of wrath on the part of the 
 young men, his guests, which did not fail to pro- 
 duce its answering growl from their host. That
 
 THE PRIORY. 211 
 
 fresh arbitrary arrests should have taken place sur- 
 prised hiui not at all — such proceedings were of 
 daily occurrence. That Sirr, the town-major, 
 should be enlarging his paid army of false-wit- 
 nesses, who were becoming notorious as ' the band 
 of testimony/ was also, alas, no new thing. That 
 a man's life could be sworn away by one witness 
 who had never seen him before was an awful fact ; 
 but then he, Mr. Curran, was at hand to protest, 
 and the recognised forms of law still permitted an 
 accused sometimes to baffle the paid malice of the 
 informer. 
 
 It was an open question, all admitted, how far a 
 government might go in espionage. In moments 
 of peril to the public weal it is certain that ministers 
 must draw their information from any quarter, how- 
 ever foul ; but to offer a premium to rascality is 
 surely criminal. To gain information of facts from 
 detectives is quite a different matter from the em- 
 ployment of secret agents to tempt people into sin 
 and then hound them down. Robert Emmett 
 brought news with him this day that seemed to 
 foreshadow a change of tactics on the part of the 
 executive — ominous news the discussion of which 
 had made the party late upon the road, and which 
 caused the young men, so soon as their hostess had 
 retired, to abandon social gossip for more grave 
 communion. 
 
 ' Friends/ Eobert said, ' they intend to exaspe- 
 rate us. There can be no more doubt about it, 
 though I am in the dark as to their motives. 
 
 14—2
 
 212 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 Please God, Theobald's mission will be accom- 
 plished ere 'tis too late ; the French will come to 
 our succour before we are goaded to despair/ 
 
 Cassidy, who had such a blundering tendency to 
 do the wrong thing in the wrong place, here broke 
 out into a new ditty which was beginning to be 
 popular, trolling forth in his mellow voice : 
 
 ' The French are on the say, says the Shan van Vocht ; 
 And will he here without delay, says the Shan van Vocht ;' 
 
 but he was sternly bidden to fill his glass and pass 
 the round-bottomed bottle without making himself 
 noisily objectionable ; and, whatever other peccadillo 
 he might think proper to commit, above all things 
 to drink fair. 
 
 ' Major Sirr's banditti/ the undergraduate went 
 on, so soon as the bottle, being empty, could be 
 laid down, 'have taken on them a new function. 
 They arrogate to themselves now a right of paying 
 domiciliary visits without search-warrants, of forcing 
 open a person's door whensoever the outrage may 
 suit their whim. A year ago they wormed their 
 way into Trinity, and by an accident we were unable 
 to rouse the college.' 
 
 1 Arrah, thin/ grumbled Cassidy, ' will ye always 
 be pitching my big shoulder sand empty head in my 
 teeth ? I was sorry for my awkwardness, and that's 
 enough.' 
 
 1 But at that time they were right to take us, if 
 they could ; for in truth we were conspiring — a red- 
 letter day in my memory, the day I took the oath !
 
 THE PRIORY. 213 
 
 Hearken to this, all of you ! You know Tim 
 Flanagau, of Ormond's Quay, whose lady — God rest 
 her soul ! — was brought to bed a week ago ? She 
 died, so did the child, last night ; and Tim, gone 
 wild with sorrow, threw himself on the floor beside 
 the corpse, refusing to be comforted. There came 
 a knocking at his warehouse entry ; it was barred, 
 and the men away. His sister, from a window, 
 desired to know what was wanted. Sirr answered 
 that he was come to search the house — for what, 
 in the Lord's name ? Gunpowder cannot be 
 bought. The sister offered money if they would 
 respect their grief, but not enough. In the ware- 
 houses nothing compromising was found, of course. 
 The room where the corpse lay was to be searched 
 also. They battered in the door of the guarded 
 chamber, but recoiled in a fright, for Tim stood 
 with a threatening glare of madness beside his 
 young wife, a knife clutched in his right hand. 
 They fled, these myrmidons who disregarded an 
 agony of soul which a savage would respect ; and 
 Tim knelt down there and then, with his appalled 
 sister, swearing, on the blue lips of her who wa 
 gone before, an eternal enmity against the Castle 
 tyrants.' 
 
 There was a long silence, during which Curran 
 hung his head, while the brow of his junior dark- 
 ened, and honest Phil, his goggle-eyed henchman, 
 poured claret in his master's lap instead of into his 
 
 It is horrible V sighed Cassidy, and swore a
 
 214 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 string of oaths. ' Tim Flanagan had fought shy of 
 the society/ he shouted, 'but now would surely 
 join ifc. His was but one case out of many. The 
 wickedness of those in power would surely drive all 
 Ireland to take the oath, and then the sons of the 
 soil would rise as one man and hunt the tyrants 
 into the Channel/ 
 
 Mr. Curran shook his rough head. 
 • They are working for a purpose, as Robert 
 says/ he remarked ; ' a wicked purpose, which aims 
 at our eternal slavery. Instead of sowing seeds of 
 wholesome trees, beneath which our children may 
 seek shelter, they cherish poisonous roots, with the 
 intent to squat like witches in a plantation of night- 
 shade. You will never hunt them into tbe Channel. 
 Do you know that they are flooding the island 
 with troops — disciplined troops, who will part your 
 ill-trained myriads like water ? I see their aim, 
 though they would fain hide it till the fruit is ripe. 
 They will goad us by insidious outrage to despair, 
 then stamp on us with an overwhelming force, and, 
 when we are faint and bleeding, will tie us, gagged 
 and chained, to the car of England for evermore/ 
 ' What do you mean V Terence inquired sternly. 
 1 I mean/ responded his chief, ' that when we are 
 ground into the dust, they will^sweep us from the 
 list of nations. Cobwebs will gather round the 
 locks of our senate-house; our exchauge will be 
 silent as the tomb, our docks empty, our quays de- 
 serted. England will swallow us body and soul; 
 will devour our liberty, and with it our existence/
 
 THE PRIORY. 215 
 
 ' Never!' bawled impetuous Cassidy. 'We will 
 die first, if it's thrue what he says, and he's more 
 wise than I. We are men, aren't we, who can die 
 but once ? Shall we lie down to be whipped, like 
 dancing-dogs ? There's no going back, except for 
 cowards, boys ! All must fall in, or be disgraced. 
 What say you, Master Crosbie, will you sit by and 
 see Ould Erin sold V 
 
 The excitement of this bellowing athlete was con- 
 tagious. 
 
 ' If I believed that there was one tittle of truth in 
 the suspicions of my old friend, I'd take the oath 
 to-morrow,' cried Terence, with a slap upon the 
 table. ' But he exaggerates.' 
 
 ' Do I ?' growled Curran. { I say that they mean 
 to unite Ireland to England, and that their present 
 operations are tending to that end ; and I also 
 affirm that, whether you take the oath or whether 
 you do not, that important ceremony will have no 
 effect whatever on the end — you coxcomb !' 
 
 1 Be their intentions what they may, there is no 
 going back now,' echoed young Robert, sipping his 
 claret dreamily. ' All who have a real stake in the 
 country must see that. Is not our first stake our 
 national honour ? and how may we bow our necks 
 beneath the Saxon's heel without eternal shame ? 
 The truculent, bloody Saxon ! who has left his track 
 like a livid welt across our land, in altars polluted 
 and laid low, pledges made and broken, a long trail 
 of lust and rapine and crime.' 
 
 A faint smile flitted over Cassidy 's features, for
 
 2i6 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 this was tlie turgid eloquence of the mysterious 
 newspaper whose editor was in Newgate. 
 
 'Boy, you chatter balderdash/ Curran snapped 
 shortly; ' such balderdash as the ignorant drink too 
 eagerly for truth. Oh for a little ballast to keep us 
 steady .! An Irishman, when not stranded on the 
 Scylla of indolence, is certain to flounder head- 
 foremost on the Charybdis of enthusiasm ; and, of 
 the two dangers, the latter is generally the worst/ 
 
 ' Deed, it's thrue what ye say, councillor dear/ 
 Cassidy murmured, in a coaxing tone. ' But sure, 
 though you rail at us, you would not stand by 
 neither, any more nor this young gintleman ? We 
 know well enough your heart is with us/ 
 
 1 You are no better than baaing sheep following 
 one another into the shambles/ answered the host 
 testily, for he was taken aback by this open assault 
 upon himself and Terence. ' Your ill-digested plans 
 must fail/ 
 
 ' Fail V echoed Robert and Cassidy together. 
 ' Why/ continued the former, forgetting his horror 
 of bloodshed, ' when the time comes we shall count 
 upon a hundred thousand men. I know it by the 
 returns sent in to the Directory/ 
 ' On paper/ 
 
 ' And the French will be here in force — the vete- 
 rans of the Republic/ 
 
 1 The French, the French V growled Curran. 
 1 Say that they land and beat the armies of King 
 George, which I much doubt ; will they not soon 
 weary of a precarious possession, and, carrying you
 
 THE PRIORY. 217 
 
 to market in some treaty of peace, barter you away to 
 be well scourged ? I vow I have no patience with 
 you, grieved though I be for the humble order of the 
 people, who from lack of education are easily deluded. 
 Depend upon it, your acts are all known in London. 
 By the time you are ready, the towns will seethe 
 with British troops. I tremble to think of the result/ 
 
 ' Would ye have us turn the cheek like good 
 Christians, then?' jeered the giant, who, under 
 influence of wine, was becoming warm. ' Are the 
 sons of the ancient kings meekly to become galley- 
 slaves V 
 
 ' What would I have ye do V retorted the host, 
 who perceived with wrath that he was being driven 
 into a corner. ' I'd have ye keep a civil tongue, and 
 talk no treason till ye're outside my privet-hedge. 
 If ye do not, Fll report what's been said to Clare ; 
 I will, upon my honour, to save ye from worse 
 folly/ 
 
 The sturdy little man looked as if he were quite 
 capable of carrying out his threat. If he were to 
 disclose all he knew of them, it would be terrible 
 indeed. 
 
 Cassidy, the claret mounting to his muddled 
 brain, seized a decanter with the laudable intention 
 of belabouring his host with it. 
 
 ' A traitor V he muttered fiercely. ' That's the 
 lowest beast that crawls. If ye spake ere a word of 
 us, I'll pistol ye in the street V 
 
 The lawyer looked calmly up at the menacing 
 giant and laughed. 'Put it down, big baby/ he
 
 218 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 said. ' You dare to think me half-hearted because 
 I won't take a pike and try to knock down St. 
 Patrick's. Does any man in Ireland love Erin more 
 than I ? Learn, fool, that men have different func- 
 tions assigned to them. Do your best, if God wills 
 it so. When the battle's lost ye'll want me to bind 
 your gashes. I've listened to much rubbish this 
 afternoon. Now you, in your turn, listen to the 
 truth, which is bad enough — ochone ! I know that 
 all your martial goings-out and comings-in are re- 
 ported one by one ; I know that they are broidered 
 and embellished before they cross the sea. I have 
 reason to suspect — I admit I cannot prove it yet — 
 that such cooked accounts are given of your doings 
 as actually to alarm the British cabinet. You are 
 playing into Pitt's hands. I have heard that they 
 even talk of "martial-law" as possible. If they 
 come to that, the Lord be merciful to our poor 
 Erin !' 
 
 Mr. Curran's head sank on his breast, and tears 
 ran down his rugged cheeks ; while the conspirators 
 glanced one at the other with pallid faces. Martial 
 law ! rough and ready tribunals presided over by 
 the tools of England ! Sure their host's terrors 
 must carry him away. And yet he might be right, 
 judging from the past. It was quite possible that 
 they were being deliberately driven to the shambles 
 in cold blood — like victims marked out for slaughter 
 by some savage despot. Cassidy laid down the de- 
 canter, and began to stammer apologies for his 
 petulance.
 
 THE PRIORY. 219 
 
 The noise of voices at high, words brought Sara 
 into the room, who, frightened at the sudden dread 
 which seemed to have invaded the party, clung to 
 her father, while she turned an inquiring glance to 
 the undergraduate. 
 
 f What is it, father ?' she murmured with dim 
 fear, for the adored face of Robert was distorted 
 with passion, while his hands shook like leaves. 
 
 ' A Union is it that they want V the boy muttered 
 'twixt chattering teeth. ' I will resist it to the last 
 gasp of my existence — to the last drop of my blood 
 — and when death comes, I will call down the 
 •eternal curse of Heaven upon the destroyers of our 
 freedom V 
 
 Sara felt dizzy, and would have fallen but for her 
 father's encircling arm. Dark shadows of fore- 
 boding were flitting across her mind. Was he 
 whom she elected to worship to be drawn into the 
 whirlpool after all ? Was Robert to share Theobald's 
 fate — to be banished from friends and motherland ? 
 In her gentle loving heart she registered a vow that 
 if that fate should come on him, the sorrow of his 
 •exile should be soothed by no hand but hers. 
 
 Mr. Curran set himself to calm his darling. 
 ' Silly child V he said, patting her yellow curls. 
 ' There, there, why not in bed ? Fie ! young ladies 
 mustn't rush in where gintlemen are toping. Well, 
 ■as ye are here, pick up the matarials from the hearth, 
 my love, and squeeze in another lemon. This won't 
 do. I shall lose my reputation as a bon viveur. A 
 sentiment ? Bravo ! Here 'tis. Come, bumpers !
 
 220 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 " If a man fills the bottom of his glass, more shame 
 to him if he doesn't fill the top ; and if he empties 
 the top, sure he'd not be so base as to deny the 
 bottom the same compliment !" Now we'll lock 
 the doors, and my big friend shall expend his 
 exuberance in song. A toast first. You too shall 
 sip of it, my blossom, for there's ne'er a bit of 
 treason in it.' Then, clasping Sara's slender waist, 
 he raised his haggard eyes, and said solemnly : ' As 
 God in these latter days is unfolding in His creatures 
 strange new powers, so may they all tend to Free- 
 dom, Peace, and Harmony. May those who are 
 free never be enslaved — may those who are slaves 
 be speedily set free. Amen !' 
 
 Cassidy, quite good-humoured and repentant now 
 — for his bark was always more awful than his bite — 
 tuned up and sang his choicest ditties ; yet somehow 
 there was a pall over the party which music could 
 not dissipate. Truths had slipped out in the desul- 
 tory talk which weighed down the souls of all. Mr. 
 Curran, usually a pearl among hosts, was worried 
 and absent, for, look at the situation as he would, 
 there was nothing to be seen but impending disaster, 
 and he thought that perhaps he had spoken out too 
 openly. Terence, too, seemed much disturbed in 
 mind ; more moved at Robert's story and his own 
 hints than he liked to see. Perchance it would be 
 safest to pack him home without delay. Yet no — 
 his was not the soul-harrowing indignation which 
 exercised the patriots. He was shocked, but there 
 was no real danger of his being trapped. It would
 
 THE PRIORY. 
 
 lie heavy on his conscience, though, if this art- 
 less joyous creature should be dragged into the 
 vortex. Much better that he should shoot, and 
 hunt, and fish, and make the most of the happy 
 accident of his social standing. Certainly he would 
 show little affection for his proUg6 if he permitted 
 him to be trapped, and Cassidy showed wondrous 
 anxiety to trap him. An odd person, Cassidy; a 
 whimsical combination of opposing essences ; one of 
 those dangerous hot natures whose ill-balanced zeal is 
 more fatal to a cause than enmity. No one could 
 on occasion be more oafishly stupid than he, or more 
 rashly brave ; and yet the way he kept up a show 
 of intercourse with Major Sirr and my Lord Clare, 
 after the fashion of a safety-rope to which to cling in 
 peril, was worthy of quite a subtle plotter. That 
 the giant meant well there could be no doubt. Bat 
 if he, Curran, had had aught to do with the society, 
 he would have stipulated that this firebrand should 
 be kept as much as might be in the background. 
 
 While he meditated thus the punch-bowl was 
 emptied, and, as he made a move to refill it, the 
 party broke into knots and resumed the topic which 
 engrossed them. 
 
 Terence listened to young Kobert's views, which, 
 under the auspices of liquor, grew more rosy and 
 more loud. 
 
 ' I don't mind telling you about it/ the boy was 
 saying, ' for I know that your honour is too fine to 
 allow the smallest hint to be dropped of what I 
 say. The French will come with 15,000 men, and
 
 222 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 gunpowder, and muskets. Pikeheads are being 1 
 hammered out of hours on hundreds of village 
 anvils/ 
 
 'They will never send 15,000 men/ Terence ob- 
 jected, with a doggedness induced by drink. ' Their 
 coffers are empty. Holland, Switzerland, the Rhine, 
 claim the attention of their arms/ 
 
 f If they send but 5,000 the work can be done. 
 You don't believe it ? With three hundred as 
 officers to head our own people, we could make an 
 effort/ 
 
 'What can a rabble hope to do against a dis- 
 ciplined force V exclaimed Terence, with animation. 
 ' The French could not spare three hundred officers 
 to this outlying island. Who have you amongst 
 you who could teach a single military manoeuvre ? 
 Who could save an army from rout if attacked in 
 rear, or judiciously decide upon a line of entrench- 
 ment ? What a reckless waste of life — a march 
 into the grave I' 
 
 'There are cultivated gintlemen who will come 
 forward when they see that we are in earnest/ put 
 in Cassidy slyly; Mots of them. There is no tell- 
 ing what mines of military genius may be found 
 amongst the high-born. I confess Fd like to know 
 what we really may expect from France. Theobald 
 has been ten months in Paris>is hand and glove 
 they say with General Hoche, and Carnot, the 
 " Organiser of Victory/' Strange he should never 
 write/ 
 
 ' My cousin Doreen has letters from him/ Terence
 
 THE PRIORY. 223 
 
 said, in thick accents. ( Maybe she'd tell us if we 
 coaxed* her/ Then, rising, he flung wide the 
 shutters and opened the window, through which 
 streamed such a flood of morning light and per- 
 fumed air as caused his wits to reel. Cassidy 
 grinned as he marked the ' us/ and, encouraged by 
 so good a sign, made bold to clap the young patri- 
 cian upon the shoulder. 
 
 ' Sure she'd tell you, councillor darlint/ he 
 whispered ; c for she likes you, and I can get nothing 
 serious out of her. Faix ! it's the dainty colleen 
 she is !' 
 
 1 1 dare say she would,' returned Terence, while 
 lines of latent humour puckered up the giant's face. 
 Councillor Crosbie's lofty patronage amused him, 
 for, of the two, Mr. Cassidy had seen most of the 
 Abbey during the past year. 'The day is come/ 
 he urged ; f the very hour for a ride. Will ye go 
 and find out something to make our minds aisy, or 
 do ye think Misthress Doreen would be cross wid 
 ye?' 
 
 Cassidy was taking liberties. Of that Terence 
 felt hazily assured. 
 
 1 Yes/ he replied, ' I will canter over to Strogue 
 to see what I can gather ; a gallop by the beach 
 will steady my nerves for the business of the infernal 
 Four-courts. Tell Phil, Cassidy, to saddle the horses 
 at once.' 
 
 Cassidy humbly obeyed orders, while Curran, who 
 was watching, laughed, despite his dreary thoughts. 
 How translucent is the strategy of youth ! The
 
 224 MY LORDS OF ST ROGUE. 
 
 squireen's familiar manner of mentioning Doreen 
 had stung her cousin, and filled him with a desire 
 to warn her of the oaf's presumption. It was a fine 
 excuse for stealing a delicious hour with a girl who 
 loved not flirtation ; who crumpled up her admirers 
 with scorn ; who might, without some such excuse, 
 resent even a cousin's interference with the stern 
 duties of matutinal chicken-feeding. 
 
 ' Go !' Mr. Curran laughed, his conscience relieved, 
 as he placed his hand on the broad straight back of 
 his favourite. ' Go, lad, and learn what you can 
 from that lovely conspiring siren. I think my 
 Sally must go too, to protect you. Stop a minute 
 while I write a line to my lady. I'm sorry we've 
 not had so gay a time as usual — but sure gaiety is 
 being squeezed quite out of us. One Dougban 
 Dourish before we separate. Here's to Innisfail, 
 and may God have mercy on her ! And now good- 
 night, or rather good-morning. I've a heavy day 
 before me, and must e'en steal forty winks.' 
 
 The party mounted their horses and rode away, 
 and Mr. Curran went to bed and slept, quite per- 
 suaded now that Terence must go home and stop 
 there.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 LOVES AND DOVES ? 
 
 ONEST Phil saddled the horses and 
 brought them round in a twinkling, 
 delighted always with a journey to the 
 Abbey; for did not red-haired Biddy, 
 who held his large heart in keeping, abide at the 
 shebeen foreninst the Little House with her mamma, 
 Jug Coyle ? Jug Coyle — the Collough — or wise 
 woman, mistress of hidden arts, whose little public- 
 house, on Madam GilhVs land, had grown more 
 orderly than heretofore during the last few months. 
 It was not that grooms and soldiers frequented it 
 the less, but that, instead of sitting on the bench 
 without, roaring ribald staves into the small hours, 
 as had been the objectionable custom, they now 
 preferred the innermost room with a well-closed 
 door. Yet, roistering or silent, there was the 
 shebeen with its mouldering thatched roof and 
 discoloured whitewash walls, and one of its tiny 
 vol. i. 15
 
 / 
 
 226 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 •windows roughly boarded up, at the very gate of 
 the lordly Abbey — an undiminished eyesore to the 
 chatelaine. 
 
 Sara, whose gentle nature was perturbed by the 
 scene at the supper-table — the pale faces and 
 haggard looks — slept not a wink all night, and was 
 most glad to join Terence in a canter by the sea- 
 shore. She daily grew fonder of Doreen, whose 
 quiet manner seemed to instil calmness into her 
 own soul ; who allowed the child in a gracious way 
 to cling to her, to prattle of her little troubles, her 
 suspicions and her fears, and her adoration of the 
 undergraduate. Her father was too busy to listen 
 to her babbling ; the dear young undergraduate 
 too much absorbed in what he called the cycle of 
 injustice. All those with whom she. had to do — 
 except Doreen — were for ever prating of the Saxon's 
 iron heel, shaking their fists at Heaven, venting 
 dark anathemas and muttering such threats as 
 terrified her. Something dreadfully mysterious 
 was to take place soon — of that she felt assured — 
 though when she asked questions, Mr. Curran 
 pinched her chin, calling her a little silly kitten ; 
 then mused with eyes averted. Yes, there was a 
 heavy intangible cloud overshadowing those she 
 loved ; all the little maid could do was to pour out 
 her innocent soul to God, imploring His mercy for 
 her father and her friends. 
 
 Wiser eyes than Sara's saw the cloud — observed 
 that it grew blacker and more thunderous as it 
 lowered nearer earth — that its lining, instead of
 
 LOVES AND DOVES? 227 
 
 being silvern, was lurid red. Some, like wreckers 
 on a craggy beach, rejoiced in the approach of a 
 storm which would bring them pelf; others watched 
 it wistfully, as it darkened the sun, with a sickening 
 sense of powerlessness to avert its coming. Among 
 these was Doreen, who, surveying the gloomy 
 prospect as from a watch-tower, grew hourly more 
 grave and self-contained. Her position at the 
 Abbey had changed but little during the interval. 
 The dowager had never directly referred to the 
 couversation in the rosary, but the damsel was not 
 slow in perceiving that Shane and herself were 
 thrown together as often as was practicable. Then 
 this wild scheme was not to be abandoned idly ? 
 What could be the reason for it ? Once, in her 
 desire to escape from a false position, she begged 
 her easy-going parent to take her to live with him 
 in Dublin, telling him plainly that she could never 
 marry Shane, imploring him to spare her a distress- 
 ing ordeal. He only patted her hands, however, 
 and nodded perplexedly, with an assurance that she 
 should never be forced into anything she did not 
 like. It was clear that Mr. Wolfe was growing 
 more and more afraid of his sister, also that public 
 affairs distressed him; for he plunged daily more 
 deeply into routine business, attempting in a weak 
 way now and then to pour oil upon the waters 
 between Curran and Clare, carefully keeping his 
 daughter out of the capital as much as he was able. 
 Kot but what he would stand up for his girl upon 
 occasion, when my lady was too hard upon her. 
 
 15—2
 
 228 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 The dowager never grew weary of lifting up her 
 voice against Doreen's unseemly proclivities, her 
 free and easy ways, her ridings hither and thither, 
 her expeditions none knew whither. It was a 
 disgrace to the family, she averred — for in her own 
 girlhood Irish ladies were content to sit by the 
 fireside, or look after the pastry, study the art of 
 dumpling-making, concoct cunning gooseberry- wine 
 and raspberry- vinegar, prepare delicious minglings 
 of roseleaves and lavender for the sweetening of the 
 family linen. To all of which Mr. Wolfe was wont 
 to reply mildly : 
 
 c The maiden is of a masculine turn, who delights 
 not in sampler-stitching or pie-baking. She is 
 three-and-twenty, of unusually staid manners. I'd 
 like to see the man who dared insult her ! Let be, 
 let be. None would be more glad than I if she 
 would think less of politics and the dreadful Penal 
 Code. Guide her inexperience gently, if you will ; 
 but do not attempt coercion, or you'll get the worst 
 of it/ 
 
 Despite this prudent counsel, there were several 
 tussles 'twixt the maiden and her aunt ; in one of 
 which the elder dropped some incautious words, 
 which were a revelation to Doreen. 
 
 f You play with edged tools, girl V she had said. 
 'You form friendships with the enemies of the 
 executive and urge them to deeds of rashness, 
 knowing that, come what may, you, as a woman, 
 will escape scot-free. Your unwarrantable pro- 
 ceedings fill your father with such anxiety that he
 
 LOVES AND DOVES? 229 
 
 dares not have you home, lest in Dublin you should 
 set up for a heroine and disgrace us. You are the 
 most stubborn stiff-necked piece of goods the world 
 ever saw ! Yet what can be expected of a Papist ? 
 This is Nemesis upon him for having married one/ 
 Then this was the cause of her being left at the 
 Abbey — of Mr. Wolfe's evident anxiety ? He 
 dreaded lest — in her sorrow for her people — she 
 should do something which would involve him in 
 difficulties with Government. Poor, weak, loving 
 father ! No. That she clearly had no right to do. 
 Yet she could surely not be expected to approve 
 the acts of the executive; she, a Catholic, whose 
 heart was rendered so sensitive by the iron which 
 had worn into it from childhood. Was it her fault 
 if her mind turned itself towards passing events 
 instead of being absorbed by the manufacture of 
 tarts ? Surely not ! Hers was a sturdier, braver 
 nature than her father's. Loving him as she did, 
 she strove not to perceive his truckling ways. Had 
 she been a man she would have done as Tone had 
 done — have seized a buckler and girded by her side 
 a sword — to have at the oppressor, whose tricks 
 were so crafty and so base. So both her father 
 and her aunt suspected her, did they, of urging 
 men on to conspire against the state? My lady 
 would doubtless have placed her under lock and 
 key if her brother had permitted of such a measure. 
 And knowing or suspecting what she did, she was 
 still anxious to bring about a union between the 
 young people — her favourite son, the wealthy Earl
 
 230 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 of Glandore, and the Papist heiress who was so un- 
 manageable. It was most amazing. Doreen failed 
 to track out the slightest clue to the mystery. 
 
 Finding it so knotty she gave it up, choosing 
 rather to ponder on the turn affairs were taking. 
 She hated Lord Clare now with an indignant hatred, 
 for he had raised his mask a little, and she had seen 
 the devil's lineaments looking out from under it. 
 He made no secret of his dislike of the Catholics, 
 telling her to her face one day, with an arrogant 
 hauteur which made her blood tingle, that he was 
 going to make it his especial business to pull down 
 the altars of Baal. Oh, if this Sisera would only lie 
 down to sleep before her — with what satisfaction 
 would she drive a great nail into his temple ! 
 
 The lord chancellor was aware that the beauti- 
 ful Miss Wolfe loved him not, and was wont to jest 
 thereat when taking a dish of tea with his old flame 
 the dowager. My lady smiled at his tirades, making 
 merry over the appalling catalogue of things which 
 he intended to do j for, being a brilliant Irishman, 
 he of course had the national tendency to romancing, 
 and it never entered into her mind to conceive that 
 he actually could mean what he said. Though 
 shrewd enough, my lady was quite taken in by my 
 Lord Clare, who seeing in her^a swaddler — one of 
 those bigots who mistake rancour for virtue — was 
 minded to make his ancient ally useful to his ends. 
 
 He failed to realise that my lady's bigotry was 
 only skin-deep — that it was her way of protesting 
 against the many disagreeable things which she
 
 LO VES AND DO VES ? 231 
 
 had been forced to endure, and, thanks to Gillin, 
 was still enduring. He therefore feared not to 
 propose to her a something, at which her pride 
 should have recoiled with horror, but which — thanks 
 to his persuasive arts and her belief in his talent 
 and integrity, she agreed at least to consider before 
 repudiating. First he commiserated her position 
 in being burthened with the responsible care of a 
 damsel who was like to bring disgrace upon them 
 all. 
 
 Behind the scenes as he was, he could see farther 
 among the machinery than most people, and deeply 
 deplored what seemed inevitable — namely, that the 
 rash young lady would certainly commit herself 
 with regard to the members of the Secret Society 
 — be drawn into their schemes — and work grave 
 mischief, such as should bring shame on the names 
 both of Wolfe and Crosbie, unless something were 
 done to circumvent her. Violent means were of 
 course vulgar, and dangerous to boot, by reason of 
 Miss Wolfe's character. My lady wished to unite 
 her to her eldest son, did she ? Well, it was an 
 odd fancy, at which it was not his place to cavil. 
 All the more reason then to render the folly of the 
 girl of no effect by artifice. Once settled down as 
 a wife and mother, she would forget the errors of 
 her girlhood, and even thank her friends for having 
 saved her from herself. 
 
 Now my Lord Clare knew through Mr. Pitt, 
 whose spies in Paris told him everything, that Tone 
 kept up a correspondence with Miss Wolfe under
 
 232 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 the name of Smith — that she fetched her letters 
 from Jug Coyle's shebeen, where they were left for 
 her under a prearranged name. His own spies 
 told him that she talked sometimes with mysterious 
 men, who came and went in a suspicious manner, 
 between the environs of Dublin and the outlying 
 districts. Yes, it was too true ; my lady might 
 well look shocked. The conspirators were making 
 a catspaw of her niece, who hovered between two 
 duties — the one to her Protestant father, the other 
 to her crushed co-religionists. 
 
 Did my lady's eyes ask what was to be done ? 
 This, and only this. For it was clear, was it not, 
 that her mines must be countermined for her own 
 sake and that of her belongings ? It would not do 
 to seize the letters, because the villain in Paris 
 would then invent some new method of communica- 
 tion, which it might take the spies some time to 
 discover, and time was important just now. The 
 young lady, being enthusiastic and inexperienced, 
 was most shamefully exploitde — the executive saw 
 that, and were prepared to make allowances, pro- 
 vided her family would play a little into their hands. 
 Did she see what he meant ? No ! Then my lady 
 was duller than usual, and he must dot his i's. The 
 executive knew that Miss Wolfe was artfully used 
 as a spreader of secrets, because no one else in all 
 Ireland occupied a position of similar complexity. 
 Her heart was with the malcontents, to begin with. 
 She, as daughter of the attorney-general — most 
 cautious of time-servers — was not likely to be sus-
 
 LO VES AND DO VES f 233 
 
 pected of overt acts of treason. She was clear- 
 headed, too, and resolute, useful in council. Ill- 
 judged in other things, the conspirators had done 
 wisely to employ Miss Wolfe as a means of inter- 
 communication. 
 
 It would never do for Mr. Wolfe to be told of his 
 child's transgressions, as he would only whimper 
 and cry out; the stronger hand of his sister there- 
 fore must take the tiller, and steer the family 
 through this difficulty. Did my lady see now ? 
 No ! Well, the spies of the executive were cunning, 
 no doubt; but their eyes could not pierce stone 
 walls or sheets of paper tied tight with ribbon. My 
 Lord Camden and the Privy Council wanted to 
 know what the letters contained which were dropped 
 at the 'Irish Slave ' for Miss Doreen. Would my 
 lady undertake the little service of finding out, and 
 then tell her dear friend Lord Clare what plans 
 were suggested, what names mentioned ? He, on 
 his side, would of course promise to be prudence 
 personified, and swear never to divulge by what 
 means the information had been obtained. 
 
 The countess winced at the suggestion, and her 
 face crimsoned. If Government chose to establish 
 a bureau of paid informers, who were dubbed the 
 Battalion of Testimony, it was no affair of hers, 
 though she could not approve the principle; but as 
 to becoming one herself, the bare idea was an 
 audacious insult. The chancellor laughed airily as 
 she turned on him, for he expected some such ebul- 
 lition of feeling, and waited a little while ere he
 
 234 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 proceeded. Then, like the serpent luring Eve, he 
 strove to decide her with specious arguments. He 
 showed that, by helping to circumvent their plans, 
 she might do signal service against the Catholics ; 
 that both her brother and eldest son might be made 
 to benefit indirectly by her acts, and that nobody 
 would know anything of what she had done. In 
 love and war all means are fair. The girl had no 
 excuse for the line she chose to take. It was right 
 and fitting that the lower orders should be cowed ; 
 that the Papists should be stamped down into the 
 serfdom from which in their insolence they struggled 
 to escape; that this Tone, whom people had liked 
 till he took up the cudgels of Antichrist, should be 
 brought to punishment. 
 
 These were good reasons — strong enough surely 
 to decide my lady. If she wanted another, let her 
 think of Gillin aud her ' Irish Slave/ It would be 
 strange if that hateful enemy could not be mixed in 
 the coming struggle, and crushed in the downfall of 
 the conspirators. This last stroke almost settled 
 the resolve of the wavering countess, whose mental 
 mirror had been blurred by long dabbling in 
 questionable waters, which, rising in her husband's 
 throat to choking, had wrung that last cry from 
 him before he died. It would-be delightful to dis- 
 comfit Gillin. It would be odd, too, if Doreen, in 
 the contrition which follows upon being found out, 
 did not throw herself on her aunt's mercy, and joy- 
 fully do as she was told, on condition of being 
 saved. After meditating awhile, my lady said she
 
 LOVES AND DOVES ? 235 
 
 would think about it; and Lord Clare, having 
 planted his arrow, rode back to town, satisfied that 
 he had gained his end. 
 
 Doreen was not chicken-feeding, as Terence had 
 thought probable, on the morning when the riders 
 started from the Priory. Yet was she up and 
 about, for there is naught so invigorating as fresh 
 sea-air with a whiff of tar in it, and the evenings at 
 the Abbey were dreary enough, to induce the most 
 wakeful to take refuge betimes in bed. She tended 
 the flowers in the tiny square called Miss Wolfe's 
 plot, spent a few moments in affectionate communion 
 with some eager wet muzzles and wagging tails in 
 the kennels, then tripped away to the rosary, to 
 study a letter received the night before — a letter 
 signed ' Smith/ in a cramped hand. When such 
 reached her, she invariably retired thither to de- 
 cipher them ; for in the seclusion formed by the 
 high clipped hedges, she was sure of privacy, none 
 being able to wander among the shady avenues of 
 beech without giving notice of their intention by 
 the clang of the golden grille, or the creaking of a 
 lesser gate situated at the other end of the plea- 
 saunce. 
 
 It was a letter which gave food for concern. 
 Impetuous, hot, Keltic ; dealing, too, with details 
 which told of action imminent. 
 
 1 1 will have no priests in the business/ it said. 
 * Most of them are enemies to the French revolu- 
 tion. They will only do mischief. The republic is
 
 236 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 on the move ; will give us five thousand men. I 
 would attempt it with one hundred. My own life is 
 of little consequence. Please God, though, the dogs 
 shall not have my poor blood to lick. I am willing 
 to encounter any danger as a soldier, but have a 
 violent objection to being hanged as a traitor, con- 
 sequently I have claimed a commission in the 
 French army. This to ensure being treated as a 
 soldier in case of the fortune of war throwing me 
 into the hands of England/ 
 
 ' His life — noble young hero V Doreen reflected. 
 ' Suppose that he were to lose his life in the coming 
 struggle ! If Moiley needed such a sacrifice, better 
 that he should fall fighting than die a dog's death 
 by the noose V 
 
 As she thought what a blow his death would be, 
 her bosom swelled with anxiety ; for every earnest 
 woman sets up an idol in her heart, to be clothed in 
 the trappings of her own belief, which she takes for 
 its native adornments. She sits and keeps pious 
 vigil over it, and weaves ennobling legends concern- 
 ing it, seeming to become purified by contact with 
 a nobler power, which, after all, is but the reflection 
 of her own better self. That her influence over 
 Theobald was great, Doreen ^^new, but not so great 
 as his was over her. There seemed to her mind, 
 twisted as it was by circumstance into a sombre 
 shape, something sublime even in the light way in 
 which he wrote of gravest things. His letters were 
 schoolboy documents, full of homely jests, quaint
 
 LO VES AND DO VES ? 237 
 
 sayings, quotations from bad plays. Yet what a 
 marvellous work was he achieving. A year ago he 
 had gone forth a wanderer, armed with a few pounds 
 and a large stock of hope. He had sailed to New 
 York, narrowly escaping seizure by the crimpers on 
 the sea; had then made for Paris, whither he 
 arrived almost without a penny. He knew scarce a 
 word of French, yet went he straight to Carnot, 
 who, in a satin dressing-gown, was holding levees at 
 the Luxembourg. Partly in broken words, much 
 more by signs, he made known his wishes to the 
 Organiser of Victory, and, through him, to the Direc- 
 tory. They saw in his project for an invasion of 
 Ireland a tempting way of harassing perfidious 
 Albion, but unfortunately their treasury was empty, 
 their armies disorganised, and so they gave to their 
 suppliant a cool reception. But Tone was not to be 
 easily put off. He haunted the antechambers of 
 the ministers, learned their language, prepared 
 statements, suggested plans ; importuned all and 
 each in broken jargon, till, amazed at his energy, 
 filled with respect for his pure motives and simple 
 life, they gave him a high place amongst their own 
 officers, and promised that his desires should be 
 gratified. 
 
 Doreen followed the rapidity of his proceedings 
 with astonished admiration, marvelling that he 
 should work as he worked from sheer love of human- 
 kind ; was quite persuaded that all he did was 
 right ; compared him daily to the men she saw 
 around her — arrogant Clare, swinish Shane, idle,
 
 238 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 prosaic Terence — and felt almost prepared sometimes, 
 if need were, to cast in her lot (as the chancellor sur- 
 mised) with her mother's oppressed people, rather 
 than with those of her highly-connected father. 
 Gusts of loathing swept over her soul for the feudal 
 magnificence of the Abbey; she seemed thrown on a 
 bed of roses whose perfume sickened her. The idea 
 of wedding all this splendour while her people 
 groaned, was in itself revolting; to espouse Shane 
 with it, filled the measure of her horror. Rather 
 than submit to my lady's eccentric wish, she was 
 prepared to run away — to hide herself in Conuaught, 
 anywhere ; and this being comfortably settled, she 
 went on with Theobald's last letter. 
 
 ' Independence at all hazards. If the men of 
 property won't help us, they must fall, and we must 
 support ourselves by the aid of that numerous com- 
 munity, the men of no property. Alas for poor Pat ! 
 He is fallible ; but a lame dog has been helped over 
 a stile before now. The arme blanche is the system 
 of the French, and, I believe, for the Irish too. At 
 least I shall recommend it, as Pat, being very 
 savage and furious, takes more naturally to the pike 
 than the musket, and the tactics of every nation 
 should be adapted to its character. As for Dublin, 
 one of two things must happen^ Its garrison is at 
 least five thousand strong. If a landing were 
 effected, Government would either retain the garrison 
 for their own security (in which case there would be 
 five thousand men idle on the part of the enemy), or
 
 LOVES AND DOVES f 239 
 
 they would march thein to oppose us, and then the 
 people would seize the capital. Any way, we could 
 starve Dublin in a week, without striking a blow/ 
 
 ' Starve Dublin in a week V Doreen pondered. 
 ' What would happen to outlying places like the 
 Abbey V Then an idea struck her, whereby her 
 own annoyances might be considerably lightened. 
 ' Why not/ she thought, ' work on my aunt's pru- 
 deutial fears, and induce her to transfer the esta- 
 blishment to Ennishowen, in the north ? Thus may 
 Shone and his mother be removed from danger, 
 whilst I am free of a dilemma — for, of course, when 
 the moment of peril comes, my place will be beside 
 my father/ 
 
 The golden grille clanged. A slight female 
 figure, in a blue velvet habit and peaked hat, after 
 the new mode, made its way among the roses, and 
 Doreen advanced to welcome Sara. 
 
 Mr. Currants pet was always a favourite of Miss 
 Wolfe's, to whom her prattle was a rest in the midst 
 of many perplexities. She rallied her archly about 
 the undergraduate, marking, with a grave smile, the 
 confusion in the young maid's face ; listening absently 
 to ecstatic descriptions of his numerous perfections, 
 with a tender indulgence mixed with sadness ; for 
 it undoubtedly was sad to observe how blindly and 
 artlessly the gay kitten gambolled, in spite of that 
 threatening cloud; wondering, wide-eyed, whether 
 he really and positively ever could come to care a 
 tiny bit for a silly little thing like her.
 
 240 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 Doreen knew quite well that Robert Emmett's 
 was a lovable nature, that he was free from the 
 ordinary frailties of youth, sensitive to a fault, just 
 such a visionary as would suffer terribly in a great 
 crisis such as was at hand. Just as Tone was a 
 chivalrous man of action, so the younger Emmetfc 
 was a dreamer of the most unpractical kind — one 
 who, staring at the stars, and striving to pierce 
 their mysteries, would plunge head-foremost into 
 the first pitfall that was made ready for his feet. His 
 admiration for Theobald was as great as Doreen's. 
 When that cloud should burst, he would surely be 
 found by his side — might possibly stumble where 
 the other could stand erect — and, if aught befell 
 hira, what then would happen to the Primrose ? 
 But what is the use of courting melancholy ? 
 Doreen this morning, as at other times, shook off 
 the dismal effects of her gay friend's castle-build- 
 ing, made efforts to meet her half-way, spoke hope- 
 fully of days to come, when Ireland should be 
 content, when Sara should have become a wrinkled 
 matron with a parterre of yellow blossoms round her, 
 and beloved Eobert a happy old paterfamilias with 
 a treble chin. 
 
 Sara's peachy cheeks broke into dimples of 
 pleasure at the description, as she looked up side- 
 ways like a bird. 
 
 f You are wasting your holiest affections, my 
 child/ Doreen observed demurely ; ' for men are 
 dreadful, dreadful creatures who deceive and ride
 
 LOVES AND DO VES ? 241 
 
 away. They don't care about our love one bit, 
 unless we pretend to withhold it/ 
 
 1 1 love him so very much/ returned Sara, with 
 a rapt gaze and trembling accents, ' that I could 
 be content to worship him from a long way off if 
 he would let me — he is so good and kind and 
 noble V 
 
 ' He has never spoken to you of love V 
 
 ' Never/ 
 
 The child's eyes filled with tears, and Doreen's 
 heart tightened for her. Poor fragile blossom. 
 What might the nipping blast have in store for 
 it? 
 
 ' If any mischance were to befall him ' began 
 
 the elder girl. 
 
 ( I should die/ Sara answered simply, as though 
 such a result was the only one which could be 
 possible. 
 
 Doreen walked on in silence. She was twenty- 
 three, her companion five years younger. Yet she 
 could not comprehend this innocent pure heart 
 which at eighteen gave itself unconditionally away 
 to be trampled upon or treasured as its recipient 
 should elect. She was sure that she had herself 
 never loved any one, except Tone, and her father, 
 and her mother's memory. The iron of the Penal 
 Code had seared the germ of such a love within her 
 if it ever had existed. She recalled the cold way 
 in which she had calculated her capacity for playing 
 Judith, and felt ashamed. But why should she, 
 after all ? The practical and the romantic were 
 
 vol. 1. 16
 
 242 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 singularly blended in her character. What had a 
 Catholic to do with love and the exchanging of 
 young hearts ? Fretfully she turned away from the 
 enchantments of conservatories and hen-houses 
 which she was displaying to her friend, and re- 
 marked as she led the way to the kennels : 
 
 1 You said you had brought Terence with you. 
 Can he be closeted all this while with his mother ? 
 That would be unusual. He does not favour us 
 with much of his society. As I live, here's another 
 visitor. It is such a lovely morning that I shall lay 
 violent hands upon you all. Mr. Cassidy here is 
 one of the best yachtsmen on the bay. We might 
 go for a sail round Ireland's Eye if Terence would 
 only condescend to show himself/ 
 
 'Oh yes!' cried ecstatic Sara, f it would be en- 
 trancingly delicious.' She would run and tell my 
 lady, who was probably breakfasting, that she must 
 give us her son for the general good. 
 
 It was the jolly giant, who on his big bay hunter 
 clattered into the courtyard ; come, probably, in 
 search of news on his own account, in spite of what 
 he had said to Terence a few hours before. He 
 had watered his horse at the shebeen, had taken a 
 plunge into the sea to dissipate the fumes of last 
 night's revel, had given red-haired Biddy such a 
 smacking kiss as would have roused the ire of 
 Terence's devoted henchman if he had been within 
 fifty yards, and was now come to pay his respects 
 to the inmates of the Abbey. 
 
 He praised the dogs in a flurried sort of way,
 
 LO VES AND DO VES ? 243 
 
 stood on one great foot and then the other, rapping 
 the dust from his full-skirted riding-coat with his 
 hunting-crop, whilst his eyes devoured the fine 
 liDes of Miss Wolfe's figure, which indeed com- 
 pelled admiration through its tight-fitting, high- 
 waisted frock. During the last year he had made 
 considerable advance in the good graces of the 
 chatelaine, and of her first-born. She, as chatelaines 
 ought to be, was delighted to have a host of phi- 
 landerers hanging about the Abbey, swilling its 
 liquor, devouring its beef, while my lord deigned to 
 make the squireen useful in a multitude of ways. 
 Belonging as he did to the half-mounted class, such 
 homage as he could pay was due to a great lord, 
 who was kind enough to smile upon him. That he 
 might be hand and glove with the United Irishmen 
 was neither here nor there; was he not also an 
 ally of Major Sirr's as well as a protege of the 
 chancellor's — tolerated too by Curran, Lord Clare's 
 arch-enemy ? He was all things to all men, a 
 typical ' tame cat :' it remained to be seen which 
 side he would take when the crisis should come — at 
 least so people remarked who did not know, as we 
 do, that he had taken the oath and was given to 
 mystical questions anent the placing of a bough in 
 the crown of England. A man who can turn his 
 hand to anything, rides well to hounds, sings jovial 
 ditties, makes genteel play with a rapier, can sigh 
 like a furnace, and look languishingly at a pretty 
 girl, is sure of being a general favourite. Doreen 
 liked Mr. Cassidy as much as Shane did, an unusual 
 
 16—2
 
 244 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 circumstance, for his likes and dislikes were 
 generally in direct opposition to hers. She was 
 wont to jest at his many blunders, lecture him 
 for his stupidity, allow him greater liberties than 
 were usual between an heiress and a ' half-mounted.' 
 For there was no harm in him. He would not be 
 likely to try to run off with this prize, for Shane's 
 sword — champion-spit of the Cherokees and 
 Blasters — was a universally dreaded weapon, and 
 Mr. Cassidy was too fond of the good things of this 
 life to think of suddenly quitting it with daylight 
 through his vitals. Sometimes he made love to 
 her. Then she held out a warning finger while 
 smiles wreathed her ruddy lips, as she would have 
 done to any inmate of the kennels that should dare 
 leap with dirty paws upon her flowered muslin. 
 
 This morning his behaviour was not what it 
 should have been. Sure that dip in Dublin Bay 
 had not washed away the impudence begot of 
 claret. She looked so ravishingly fresh and neat 
 in the chip hat which, with a plain white ribbon 
 knotted beneath the chin, gave a yet fuller glow to 
 her rich complexion, the close-clinging robe 
 spangled here and there with a bunch of poppies, 
 that there was little wonder if prudence was for 
 once outrun by passion. Sbe was not Miss Hoyden 
 any more. Her clothes wefe-of the most fashion- 
 able cut; nimblest-fingered of Dublin tailoresses 
 made her frock ; long mitts of daintiest Carrick lace 
 masked only to accentuate the golden ripeness of 
 her finely modelled arms ; a pair of stout pointed
 
 LOVES AND DO VES ? 245 
 
 brogues, silver buckled, drew down the eye to the 
 clean ankle and high instep, which told of healthful 
 exercise by a series of suave contours and volup- 
 tuous curves. 
 
 Now the mind of Cassidy was gross in its 
 essence; jaded too by appetites in riot. What 
 would be more likely to stimulate a coarse illiterate 
 squireen than the aspect of such a living paradox 
 as this ? His political intentions were admirable, 
 doubtless; possibly when the time came he, like a 
 few others, would rise to the occasion, cast aside 
 low vices, and, passing like gold through the fire, 
 achieve deeds which would endear him to his 
 countrymen. That was possibly in the future. 
 The present only whispered, as his eyes wandered 
 over the figure of the girl before him, that such a 
 morsel could not be too dearly bought. With un- 
 wonted courage, he blurted out the original re- 
 mark : 
 
 * Mistress Doreen, you're monsthrous beautiful !' 
 
 1 Am I V she replied, raising her eyebrows. 
 ' Alas ! it's of little consequence/ 
 
 ' Is it now V returned Cassidy, endeavouring in 
 his murky brain to plod out a reason for the state- 
 ment. l Oh V he said at length, f becase you're 
 booked, and you don't care whether my lord is 
 pleased or not.' 
 
 ' My lord ?' inquired the girl, her brows arching 
 yet higher. 
 
 ' Aren't you to be the future lady of Ennishowen ? 
 I can put two and two together.'
 
 246 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 So this hateful match was being freely canvassed. 
 Even muddlepated Cassidy had penetrated my lady's 
 plans. He was peering straight into her eyes, try- 
 ing to find what he could at the bottom of their 
 brown depths. The heat of angry humiliation sent 
 the blood bubbling to her face. Cassidy observed 
 it, and leered pleasantly. 
 
 c He's not good enough for you — I don't like 
 your marrying him/ he observed with decision. 
 
 c No more do 1/ returned calm Miss Wolfe. 
 
 Cassidy's looks sought the ground — his big hand 
 fondled the muzzles of the dogs. After a long 
 pause, he said in a low voice : 
 
 t If you don't care about him it's small blame to 
 you.' 
 
 { Neither for him, nor anybody else.' (The 
 slightest contraction of a fine nostril.) 
 
 ' Don't say that, Miss Doreen, darlint,' said the 
 giant, quickly. ' There's many a stout fellow about, 
 whose heart it would plase if ye'd rub your pretty 
 brogues on it, who'd like to set fire to the tobaccy 
 in his pipe every blessed day by the light of your 
 lovely eyes.' 
 
 Doreen glanced up at the giant with an amused 
 smile. 
 
 ' Fie ! Mr. Cassidy. If I didn't think you too 
 sensible a man, I should believe you were trying 
 to propose to me.' Then it struck her that it was 
 on this very spot that Terence had asked if he 
 might hope. 
 
 f What possesses the men ? How odd it is,'
 
 LO VES AND DO VES ? 247 
 
 she said, thinking aloud. ' Fate settled long 
 since that I was to die an old maid ; and everybody 
 seems to want to marry me. Why ? I am surely 
 not so irresistible ? There are scores of girls who 
 would be delighted to marry any one., but somehow 
 nobody cares to ask them ! Why not try Norah 
 Gillin — Shane at least thinks her a paragon — and 
 she has the advantage of being a Protestant/ 
 
 ' Miss Doreen/ Cassidy whispered, f if I under- 
 took to work heart and soul for the cause you care 
 so much for ; if I made use of my opportunities — 
 went about for you — as your agents do (you see 
 I know all about it) ; if, when the hour comes, I 
 promised to risk my life and all I have for you — 
 'tisn't much — would you change your mind then V 
 
 Miss Wolfe felt his hot breath upon her hair, and 
 began to feel uncomfortable. It was her own fault. 
 She should have cried ' Down V to this importunate 
 dog before. 
 
 ' Mr. Cassidy/ she said, with the quiet dignity 
 which was her best protection, ( you show yourself 
 in a false light. You belong to the society — I fully 
 believe — from conviction of the holiness of its aims. 
 Athough a Protestant, you are an Irishman, as I am 
 an Irishwoman. Our wrongs are common. Don't let 
 me suppose you to be suggesting a bargain.'' 
 
 ' It is that good-for-nothiug young councillor V 
 the giant muttered, grinding his teeth fiercely. ' If 
 I was sure of it, I'd run him through ! Have a 
 care, young lady ; don't trifle with honest men — or 
 wigs will be on the green, and you may be sorry V
 
 248 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 The interview was becoming extremely painful. 
 Cassidy, when tried, was showing the cloven foot, 
 as under-bred persons will. Miss Wolfe drew her- 
 self up to her full height, knitted her dark brows, 
 and said coldly : 
 
 ' You forget yourself strangely, sir ! My aunt 
 and my cousin have been over-kind to you; I have 
 tried, for my poor part, to make your visits pleasant, 
 believing you, as I still believe, to be honest, if 
 bearish and uncouth. If you dare to persecute me 
 any further I will speak to my aunt, and the doors 
 of the Abbey will be closed to you for ever. 
 Then seeing how rueful, how dismayed the hapless 
 giant looked, she took compassion and held out a 
 frank little brown hand. ■ Come, come ! This is 
 childish nonsense. I must not be hard on you. We 
 must not quarrel, you know, but cling together 
 closely for the good cause's sake. If petty private 
 feuds begin to divide us, the enemy will dance for joy. 
 I want a friend in whom to trust. You shall be that 
 friend. Will you ? Come ! Be good, and I will 
 pardon you/ 
 
 She placed her hand in his, where it lay like a 
 small leaf, and her companion said sulkily, as he 
 stroked it with a great finger : 
 
 1 You evaded the question arbout Mr. Crosbie/ 
 
 ' Well then/ she answered, s I care no more for 
 him than for Shane or you. I will never marry till 
 Erin is righted. Ah me ! doesn't that look like per- 
 petual maidenhood ? My husband, too, must have 
 won his spurs as a hero, and heroes are scarce.
 
 LOVES AND DOVES? 249 
 
 There. Shake hands, and let there be an end of 
 it. Your heart is in the cause, as mine is. Your 
 acts speak for you, and Theobald shall thank you 
 some day. Depend on it, the best tenure of earthly 
 attachment is tenancy at will. You have the use of 
 the soil, and nothing you plant in it shoots so deeply 
 but it may be removed with ease. Let us be friends 
 — trusty friends, Mr. Cassidy — no more/ 
 
 At this juncture, Terence came briskly round 
 the corner, and started to see the attitude of the 
 twain. His sudden suspicion cooled, however, upon 
 perceiving that his cousin was no whit confused. 
 Her hand still remained in that of Cassidy, and 
 she said, laughing, as she swung it to and fro : 
 
 ' Here is a big creature who threatens by-and-by 
 to bud into a hero of romance. When he kneels 
 victorious in the lists, I, as queen of beauty, am to 
 bestow the laurel crown. What a delectable pic- 
 ture, isn't it ? Glad to see you, Terence. You are 
 determined we shall value your society. You give 
 us so very little of it/ 
 
 1 You look like having quite enough of it by-and- 
 by/ Terence answered moodily. { I brought with 
 me a note from Mr. Curran to my mother, in which he 
 says that he won't have me at the Priory any more ; 
 that I must come home like an obedient child, and 
 wash my face and brush my hair and say I'm sorry. 
 If I had known what was in the letter I should have 
 stayed away/ 
 
 ' But you'll stop/ Doreen said, so earnestly as to 
 cause the giant to look askance at her. ' It is sad
 
 250 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 for members of a family to be at daggers- drawn. 
 Come — to please me — let me be peacemaker. 
 Shane shall say you are welcome, and we'll all be 
 in harmony together again. Promise me — and I'll 
 tell you some rare news that has been burning my 
 tongue this month past. You are both to be trusted, 
 I know/ 
 
 ' I would every one was as thrue as the councillor 
 here and I V ejaculated the giant, his frown break- 
 ing into sunshine, as if suddenly convinced, by some 
 queer reasoning, that there was nothing between 
 Terence and Miss Wolfe. ' It's mighty careful we'll 
 have to be by-and-by with them rapscallions of ould 
 Sirr's. Wisht ! now, and I'll tell ye what he told 
 me/ he pursued, lowering his voice and glancing 
 round as though the dogs could speak. ' There's a 
 place called the Staghouse, over foreninst Kilmain- 
 ham gaol, bad cess to it, where the Battalion of Tes- 
 timony are housed and fed, as these hounds are. 
 They have their rations and potteen and a penny or 
 two for toh-baccy — for all the world like gentle- 
 men born. I'll make it my business to stroll in 
 there some day, just to draw their pictures ou my 
 mind's eye. Maybe it'll be useful to know the 
 spalpeens' faces/ 
 
 1 This system of spies is -terribly base,' Terence 
 said, sighing. c Enough to bring down chastise- 
 ment upon any cause. I don't believe Lord Camden 
 knows of it. The gentry are arming right and left, 
 my mother says, in case the people should be ill- 
 advised enough to rise. Yeomanry corps are being
 
 LOVES AND DOVES? 251 
 
 formed in every county. Shane has been this morn- 
 ing applied to, to take the lead in this district.' 
 
 ' Shane raise a regiment ? With what result V 
 Doreen inquired quickly. 
 
 ' With none as yet/ answered Terence, laughing ; 
 ' because my lord is sleeping oft: the effects of a 
 terrible bout last night, which ended in two duels 
 and the killing of a baker, and probably will allow 
 my mother and Lord Clare to settle such a thing as 
 that, as they may deem most wise/ 
 
 ' It is too late for such organisation to be danger- 
 ous/ Doreen affirmed gaily. ' Now I'll tell you the 
 great secret, for it is only fair you, Mr. Cassidy, 
 should know, and Terence will not divulge. Now, 
 lend me your ears. The French fleet is almost ready 
 to sail. Our friends will start in two parties before 
 the summer's over, from a northern port ; making 
 the one for Cork, the other for some point on the 
 west coast. Hoche himself has promised to lead the 
 •expedition. The delegates of our own provincial 
 centres have secret orders. We may expect to 
 look on the ships which shall bring us deliverance 
 by the commencement of the autumn at the latest. 
 Here's Theobald's last letter; you may read it/ 
 
 The giant looked eagerly to seaward, sniffing like 
 -a war-horse, as though already he could discern the 
 vessels in the offing; and whistled a subdued whistle, 
 as if saying to himself, 'This is news worth taking 
 that early ride for/ With each great fist deep in a 
 breeches-pocket, he listened to the letter, and then 
 said: ' Arme blanche. Eh ! He agrees with us then,
 
 252 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 and is right. The pike's the thing for Paddy. The 
 difficulty of landing powder enough to be of service 
 would be enormous. Moreover, since the Gun- 
 powder Act, Pat knows nothing of its use^ and would 
 do more harm to himself in the long-run than to 
 the enemy/ 
 
 Doreen declared that of such details she could of 
 course know nothing, to which the giant retorted 
 that there were hosts of reasons in favour of the 
 pike. The Hessian and Hanoverian mercenaries 
 who were being slowly drafted into Ireland were 
 experienced only in the orthodox mode of warfare. 
 The courage of armies is so uncertain that they are 
 often disconcerted and panic-stricken by a style of 
 fighting to which they are unaccustomed. 
 
 ' See here V the giant said, drawing a paper from 
 his pocket and presenting it to Terence. c This is a 
 model by which thousands are being made all over 
 the country. Long, flat, ugly no doubt — but easily 
 forged. Could ye improve on that V 
 
 Now Terence, had he been wise, would have 
 refused the challenge, sapiently declining to know 
 anything of the model pike, for the giant was bent 
 somehow on securing him — but, intoxicated by the 
 enthusiasm of his pretty cousin, whose cairngorm 
 eyes, under their long lashes^were as usual making 
 sad havoc of his judgment, he took the design and 
 thought he could improve upon it. Cassidy^s 
 muddle-headedness stood in the way of his under- 
 standing, and the young councillor was forced to 
 sketch out a new design, with elaborate instructions
 
 LOVES AND DOVES? 253 
 
 as to how it might be hammered out with a maxi- 
 mum of wounding power and a minimum of labour. 
 Of course ' it was just the thing/ Cassidy declared, 
 delighted, and brought down his sledge-hammer 
 palm upon the other's shoulder. 
 
 'We'll have to crimp you!' he vowed, with a 
 peal of merriment in which Doreen softly joined, 
 'and so gain a gineral, as the Sassanagh gains 
 sailors. Ye'll be with us some day, Masther 
 Terence, see if you aren't !' 
 
 And now, too, he declared that he must have more 
 advice about these said pikes — there was terrible 
 difficulty in storing them as they were made. He 
 had an audacious idea. What did Master Terence 
 think of it ? Some of the gentry from the Stag- 
 house were, he was informed, constantly on the 
 prowl in search of such information as might be 
 bartered against good living; for Major Sirr laid it 
 -down as an initial axiom, that a member of his bat- 
 talion who remained silent beyond a certain limit of 
 time was to be cashiered as incompetent. It was 
 literally a case of ' singing for supper,' and one of 
 the simplest methods of obtaining credit with the 
 town-major was to discover and denounce a depot 
 of concealed weapons. 
 
 Now Jug Coyle (mistress of the shebeen hard-by) 
 — this was a tremendous secret — was deeply in- 
 volved in the affairs of the society. Her back 
 garden contained many more pike-heads than 
 praties. It stood to reason that she should be so 
 involved, for was she not a collough, a trafficker in
 
 254 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 charms and simples, who was called in by the pea- 
 santry around for the curing of their bodily ills; and 
 was it possible for one who was bone of their bone to 
 refraiufrom meddling with their wrongs also ? "Well, 
 she could store no more without awaking the suspi- 
 cions of the Staghouse gentry, who seemed already to 
 suspect that seditious meetings were held under her 
 thatch ; and yet it was very necessary that many 
 more weapons should be stored somewhere in the 
 immediate neighbourhood of the city. The ques- 
 tion was, where could a spot be found for them to 
 lie snugly — a place where folks would least suspect 
 their existence ? 
 
 The giant was becoming so earnest, and so lucid 
 in his earnestness, that Doreen quite marvelled at 
 him. She knew more of Jug Coyle's manage than 
 he was aware of, and listened with growing interest, 
 for red-polled Biddy, whilst acting as Theobald's 
 post-office, was constantly declaring that she felt 
 like living on a powder-magazine. 
 
 'It has been suggested/ the giant went on, 
 ' that Mrs. Gillin of the Little House should take 
 some ; but that would not be wise, for she is a 
 Catholic whose opinions are well known, though 
 latterly she has cultivated a discreet tongue. It 
 might enter the head of the^town- major to search 
 her place.' 
 
 ' It would certainly be unwise V Terence said. 
 s Remember her daughter's connection with my 
 brother. May she be trusted ? There are female
 
 LOVES AND DOVES? 255 
 
 spies as well as male, I suppose. You people are 
 dreadfully rash, Cassidy/ 
 
 1 Never fear, Master Terence/ returned the giant, 
 with a twinkle in his eye. ' Both she and her 
 daughter are children of the people, who would 
 sacrifice this lord and many another to boot for the 
 good cause, if need were. Her heart is with us, 
 like many another ; but in this case at least it's best 
 she should play blind/ 
 
 ' But what is your suggestion V Doreen inquired, 
 for the giant was beating about the bush in an ex- 
 asperating manner. 
 
 c This is it. Don't cry out now when ye hear it/ 
 He glanced round with caution, and lowered his 
 voice. l The ould armoury above in the young 
 men's wing there/ 
 
 ( What ! Here at the Abbey V Terence exclaimed. 
 ' You are mad/ 
 
 Cassidy was watching him in sidelong fashion as 
 he felt his way. 
 
 ' Sure there's a power of blackguard knives there 
 already, which no one touches from year's end to 
 year's end, as the cobwebs show. I'd stake my life 
 ye've not been in there yourself this year or two. 
 Nobody would search there, would they ? They 
 might be passed up from the shebeen at night-time — 
 Biddy and your man Phil would see to it — over the 
 old ivy wall, and exchange a kiss or two into the 
 bargain/ 
 
 1 Phil is not affiliated,' objected Terence. 
 
 ' Is he not ?' grunted the giant, shortly. l It's
 
 256 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 surprised I'd be if he could not tell us as much 
 about a green bough in England's crown as is 
 known to you or 1/ 
 
 Doreen's eyes were on her cousin. Her face wore 
 its usual serene look. The enormity of the proceed- 
 ing did not seem so great to her as it did to him. 
 He did not take into consideration the sublime 
 manner in which women look straight to a goal, 
 without marking the mud which may have to be 
 crossed to reach it. A thought shot through his 
 brain, flooding it with joy. If she could contem- 
 plate such a trick being played upon the earl, she 
 could not care about him. That was a rare thing 
 to know. And why should it not be played on him? 
 The brothers were so estranged, that the younger 
 one felt no call to interfere in such a matter on 
 behalf of the elder. It was impossible that he 
 should have lived so long on terms of familiarity 
 with the disaffected without being unconsciously 
 tainted to at least a small extent with their oft- 
 repeated complaints. Not that he was prepared to 
 admit that these modern grievances were well- 
 founded. No doubt it had been very improper — 
 all those years ago — for a Protestant invader to 
 seize, vi et armis, the territory of a Catholic nation 
 — to eject the sons of the soil^by force, in favour of 
 themselves and their heirs. But really it was too 
 late now to remedy that misfortune. 
 
 The English were to all seeming a happy and 
 contented people, who had long since given up 
 groaning over the Norman invasion and the free-
 
 LO VES AND DO VES ? 257 
 
 booting proceedings of William the Conqueror. It 
 was merely a matter of time. Ireland must accept 
 the past, and pick out the thorns from the bed on 
 which she lay as well as she could. Thus was 
 Terence, in his idle good-humoured way, accustomed 
 to argue when his personal friends gnashed their teeth 
 at the Sassanagh. But these new theories that were 
 beginning to be broached — even by Mr. Curran him- 
 self — charging the executive with motives which, if 
 they in truth existed, were lese-jpatrie of the most 
 heinous kind, caused even his careless junior to pause 
 and think. And then he consoled himself with consi- 
 dering that high-principled King George could not be 
 Blunderbore — that my Lord Clare was not a Feefo- 
 fum. Yet there was no doubt that my Lord Clare 
 was unduly harsh — that the low-bred squireens were 
 apt to treat the common folk cruelly to curry favour 
 with the Castle. He did not pause to ask himself 
 why cruelty to common folk should be pleasing 
 in the Castle's eye. These yeomanry corps were 
 likely to be productive of much evil. Terence had 
 said as much to his mother but now. It was possible 
 that Shane, in his overbearing pride of birth and 
 fierce tendency to fire-eating, might become a terrible 
 flail if he accepted the task of organising a regi- 
 ment — indeed from his nature he was sure to do so. 
 It would be a whimsical revenge for the people that 
 he should be unconsciously guarding their weapons 
 for them. 
 
 Councillor Crosbie laughed loud at the conceit, 
 declaring that he saw no reason why pikeheads 
 
 vol. 1. 17
 
 258 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 should not be added to the ' blackguard knives ' in 
 the armoury, and his cousin gave him such a dis- 
 tracting look of thanks that he chid himself for 
 considering the matter at all; while Cassidy, who 
 also caught the look, glared out to seaward, clench- 
 ing his fists in his deep pockets. 
 
 1 That eccentric person, Mrs. Gillin !' Terence 
 cried gaily. ' So she's mixed up with all this plot- 
 ting, is she ? Has she taken the oath, or is she but 
 a privileged outsider like myself ? And my man 
 Phil, too — that's to please red-polled Biddy, doubt- 
 less. Let's take the oath, Doreen, while we can 
 make a favour of it, for all Ireland will, it seems, be 
 in it soon. The good lady was in her garden as I 
 passed this morning, strutting about with leather 
 gloves and garden- shears, and bowed solemnly to 
 me as I passed. What a queer woman ! At the 
 Rotunda the other day she came and stood before 
 me, though we have never been introduced, and 
 said, ' ' Are you sure, young man, that you left your 
 home of your free will ?" When I said " Certainly," 
 she gave a satisfied nod and disappeared in the 
 crowd. If her daughter is pining for Shane, her 
 mother evidently sets her cap at me. I trust you 
 will all be civil to the futur^Sadam Crosbie. This 
 is the way she walks ' and the irreverent scape- 
 grace proceeded to waddle up and down with so 
 exact an imitation of Mrs. Gillin' s peculiarities that 
 Cassidy fairly shouted. That lady and her doings 
 being a tabooed subject at the Abbey, there was 
 special delight in talking of her on the sly.
 
 LOVES AND DOVES? 259 
 
 All three were guiltily startled by the opening of 
 my lady's bedroom window (which looked upon 
 the courtyard), and the apparition of Queen Bess 
 in a bad temper, summoning Miss Wolfe to her 
 presence. 
 
 17-2
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 STORMY WEATHER. 
 
 Y lady was walking up and down the 
 tapestry-saloon with hands clasped be- 
 hind her back, when her niece joined 
 her — a prey evidently to considerable 
 agitation. Doreen marked the deepened wrinkles 
 on her forehead, the tightening of the thin lips, the 
 contraction of the nostrils, and waited with accus- 
 tomed self-possession to hear her elder's pleasure. 
 The countess was displeased about something. Her 
 fine face was pale, her eyes tinged with red. Her 
 majestic draperies seemed towhisper in their soft 
 rustle that something was seriously disturbing the 
 spirit of the chatelaine. Wheeling round presently, 
 she faced her niece, and, scrutinising her narrowly, 
 spoke. 
 
 * Terence has come home to live/ she remarked. 
 e Mr. Curran cannot bear him any more, and I am 
 not surprised. We must put up with him ; he's 
 enough to vex a saint V
 
 STORMY WEATHER. 261 
 
 Doreen' s cheek flushed with swift anger at his 
 mother's unwarrantable speech. 
 
 ' Oh, aunt !' she said, ' dare you speak thus of 
 your own child V 
 
 ' Ah !' ejaculated the countess, still frowning at 
 Miss Wolfe, ' let us understand each other at once. 
 I will never allow of any nonsense between you and 
 that boy — do you hear ? — nevee. I presume that he 
 would not dare to marry without my consent. You 
 are capable of anything, I know. I sincerely believe 
 that he, as yet, is one shade less undutiful. He has 
 been showing much independence lately, though. 
 There's no knowing/ she went on in a low absent 
 manner, ' what he might not do if he knew ' 
 
 e Knew what V asked Doreen. 
 
 My lady started and pushed her fingers through 
 her white hair. l Nothing, nothing ! Mind this — I 
 will never give my consent to a union between you and 
 my second son. Understand this, once and for all.' 
 
 ' You need not distress yourself, aunt/ Doreen 
 replied. 
 
 ' Doreen V my lady said abruptly, after a pause, 
 ' you were talking about that woman at the kennel 
 gate just now. I could see you were, by Terence's 
 mimicry. What was it about ?' 
 
 This was the real cause of her aunt's ill-humour : 
 the red rag, Mrs. Gillin. That foolish idea about 
 Terence was of course only a cloak to conceal un- 
 reasonable wrath. It was quite too tyrannical of 
 her, though. They were speaking no ill of their 
 neighbour.
 
 262 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 ' We were talking of Norah and Shane/ the girl 
 replied, with a touch of hauteur. c Nothing won- 
 derful in that, for all the world talks about them. I 
 suppose I may be bridesmaid, aunt V 
 
 To her surprise the blood faded slowly from my 
 lady's face, leaving her lips white, while her breast 
 heaved and her fingers tightened. The girl re- 
 gretted her pert remark, though her aunt speedily 
 recovered herself. 
 
 ( You could stop this disgrace if you would/ she 
 said in husky tones. l Last year I thought that 
 you encouraged Shane ; then you turned round 
 again. For shame ! That Arthur Wolfe's daughter 
 should be a flirt ! But it's the other blood that's 
 working in you. Your father was always too weak 
 and too indulgent. You are a sly, artful girl ! 
 Yes, it is right that you should hear the truth. 
 You do no credit to your bringing-up. Is it 
 maidenly to receive letters from a man in secret — 
 to retire, as I have ofttimes seen you do, to a 
 secluded spot in the rosary, there to gloat over them 
 — and that man married, and an outlaw ! Fie upon 
 you ! Your father is not aware of this, or it would 
 break his heart ; for, God help/^him ! he loves you 
 beyond your deserts. But i there, there ! I will 
 not waste my breath in railing ; for what else 
 could be expected of your blood and your re- 
 ligion V 
 
 Doreen's cheek, too, had paled. She trembled 
 violently, and was forced to cling to a table ere she 
 could still her anger sufficiently to answer. At
 
 STORMY WEATHER. 263 
 
 length she mastered her voice, which rang out low 
 but clear. 
 
 ' Lady Glandore/ she said, with flashing eyes, ' it 
 ill becomes one of your years to say cruel things to 
 one of mine, for if you crush out my respect for you 
 as a woman, I choose to remember your white hairs. 
 However bitter you may allow your tongue to be, I 
 will not lower myself to a retort ; but let me beg 
 you to remember that some things spoken intem- 
 perately will rankle in the heart for ever. No 
 after- apologies will quite wash them out.'' 
 
 Oh, naughty damsel, to prate of white hair, and 
 suggest that my lady was an octogenarian ! She 
 was no more than five-and-fifty, as her niece knew 
 right well — but, bless my heart ! we must not 
 survey feminine weapons too closely. 
 
 ' I am a disgrace to my bringing-up V pursued 
 Doreen, warming to the fray. ' Yet she who brought 
 me up condescends to act the spy on me ! A flirt, 
 am I ? I never, upon my honour, gave the least 
 encouragement to either of your sons. They are 
 not such Admirable Crichtons ! Seeing that you 
 are beset by some hallucination on this subject, I 
 have again and again implored my father to take 
 me hence in vain. I hereby swear to you by the 
 Holy Mother and my hopes of salvation, that I will 
 never be Shane's wife — never, never, never ! Per- 
 haps now you will leave me at peace. Though I 
 am a Catholic, madam, I decline to brook insult. 
 Here are my cards — face upwards on the table. 
 Show me yours/
 
 264 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 The girl, who was usually so quiet and grave, had 
 lashed her wrath to foam, and was grievously- 
 exercised to restrain fast -gathering tears. She 
 would rather have died, however, than have lowered 
 her standard to my lady. With a violent effort, 
 then, she kept them back, and faced the chatelaine 
 with a front as proud as hers. 
 
 This was all very shocking : the ill-mannered 
 allusion to hoary locks, the rash oath never to marry 
 Shane, the truculent bearing. Mild Arthur's 
 counsel was wise. My lady generally got the worst 
 of it in conflicts with this girl. It would have been 
 best to have vented her ill-humour upon Terence : 
 who was forbearing towards his mother. But then 
 her victories over him were too easily gained to be 
 worth anything, for he was good-tempered, and re- 
 spected his mother greatly; and besides, every 
 well-ordered man will always gladly resign to a 
 female antagonist the glory of winning a battle of 
 words. 
 
 My lady stalked in silence up and down, retiring 
 behind the entrenchments of her outraged dignity. 
 But Doreen perceived that to make her triumph 
 good she must dare anot aer/gortie, and disarm her 
 antagonist; so, after a pause for breath, she re- 
 peated : 
 
 ( I have shown you my cards, Lady Glandore — 
 show me yours. You are bent upon my marrying 
 Shane — the compliment is great — far greater than 
 my poor worth deserves. Though you constantly 
 fling insults at me about my manners, my blood,
 
 STORMY WEATHER. 265 
 
 and my religion, yet you are willing — nay, anxious 
 — condoning these crimes, to accept me as a 
 daughter ! Why ? The lady of the Little House, 
 who is good and charitable, if innocently vulgar, is 
 a standing bugbear to you. Why ? Yet, by a sin- 
 gular contradiction, you allow your paragon to 
 make himself at home with her, and make much of 
 her child, who, to be sure, is a Protestant, but low- 
 born. She is penniless — I am an heiress : hence, 
 of the two, I should be the better prize for him. I 
 see that ; but what, in Heaven 's name ! is to pre- 
 vent his sallying forth in Dublin, and finding there 
 a fitting partner ? Sure there's not a noble Pro- 
 testant family in Ireland that wouldn't jump at 
 him ! A drunkard, no doubt, and a fire-eater — 
 which some folks are rude enough to translate 
 murderer — what of that ? It is the custom of his 
 cloth. A coronet well filled with gold covers a 
 multitude of sins ! No doubt Mrs. Gillin would 
 dearly like such a son-in-law — it's the way of the 
 world, and I do not blame her — but you, I know, 
 would not care for such a daughter as Norah. Are 
 you not afraid that some fine morning holy Church 
 will join them, and that you will come down to 
 breakfast to find them in an edifying position on 
 their knees, claiming mamma's blessing V 
 
 My lady had sunk into a chair, her pale face 
 paler. 
 
 ' No, no,' she murmured ; f that could not be. 
 He toys with a pretty wench as a young spark will. 
 Why would I gladly have him marry you ? Be-
 
 266 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 cause I know lie has faults — the faults of youth, 
 which time will remedy — and I feel, dear Doreen, 
 that your strong common- sense will be a stay to his 
 weakness. Once united to you, he will change, and 
 you will be very happy together/ 
 
 There was something so pitiable in this abject 
 discomfiture — in this refusal to be insulted — that 
 Miss Wolfe's resolution failed her. Yet her curiosity 
 was too thoroughly roused to permit of dropping 
 the subject. 
 
 f Then I'm to be the scapegoat V she said, with a 
 tinge of scorn. f Fm to lick the whelp into shape 
 — no matter if my heart is broken in the process. 
 Thank you ! A vow once sworn need never be re- 
 peated. Yet do not forget, aunt, if you please, 
 that it is registered. He refuses to go into high- 
 born society where noble ladies are, preferring 
 play and duelling-clubs, and you dread his making a 
 mesalliance, rather than which you would accept poor 
 me as a pis-aller.' (Here the young lady made a 
 curtsey.) 'Many thanks. Is this at all like the 
 truth ? Pardon my sneaking plainly. It's best to be 
 aboveboard. After jmis time we will, with your good 
 leave, never return to the hateful subject. That I 
 shall not be poor can surely claim no part in- your 
 calculations, for he is thirty times wealthier than I 
 can ever be. Rich V she repeated, with a harsh 
 laugh. ' A rich Catholic will be a curiosity, n'est- 
 ce pas ? If this is at all your course of thought, 
 why not prevent his going to the Little House ? 
 Speak to Mrs. Gillin as harshly as you began to
 
 STORMY WEATHER. 267 
 
 speak to me to-day, and there will surely be an end 
 of the matter. Or/ pursued the crafty maiden, re- 
 membering Tone's last epistle, ' brush Norah from 
 his mind by change of scene. Why not remove for 
 a few months to Ennishowen ? It is long since 
 you were there. Your presence would do much to 
 keep disloyal tenants quiet in these disloyal times. 
 Would not that be a capital example ? The boys 
 used to love Ennishowen. Shane will forget the 
 objectionable Norah whilst pursuing the shy seal or 
 shooting wild birds round Malin Head. Do you 
 remember the delirious delight of him and Terence 
 when they dragged their first seal into the boat 
 under Grlas-aitch-e Cliff, and how you told me not 
 to be afraid of looking over the garden parapet into 
 the green water dashing so far below ? Ah, those 
 were days !' the girl pursued, kindling. ( Our only 
 care whether the fish would bite or the shot 
 
 carry ' then she was stopped by a lump rising 
 
 in her throat, stirred by the thought of how dif- 
 ferent those days were from these, when the 
 thunderous cloud was drawing lower, lower — and 
 she — a reserved young lady — was becoming alarm- 
 ingly familiarised with secret despatches ; a political 
 phantasmagoria; a threatened collision between 
 two classes, whose hate was bubbling over. 
 
 The rebellious tears well-nigh burst their bonds ; 
 but a strong will was throned within that shapely 
 head. My lady turned angrily upon her niece ; for 
 though discomfited and prepared to run up a flag 
 of truce, it was not to be expected that she should
 
 -268 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 endure this last speech without resenting it. Miss 
 Wolfe's pertness harrowed her proud soul. She 
 had pretended to look on her aunt as in her dotage 
 — a toothless harridan, with no distinguishing attri- 
 bute except white hair, and had presumed to charge 
 her with ridiculous motives ; had torn the dazzling 
 glamour of his rank from Shane, exposing 'to view 
 a skin as shaggy as the ass's ; even going so far as 
 to stigmatise him to his doting mother as a drunkard 
 and a murderer; and, to cap all, had wound up 
 with patronising advice. An ordinary lady of 
 middle age would resent such treatment ; how 
 much more then the stern Countess of Glandore, 
 whose nature was toughened by contact with the 
 fire, who was always regarded with awe- stricken 
 terror when she deigned to honour any of the 
 Castle festivities, and who was quite a terrifying 
 personage even to the wives and daughters of con- 
 temporary grandees. 
 
 .Would the stubborn girl be true to her hasty 
 vow ? My lady feared she would, though for the 
 moment she was too angry to consider calmly of it. 
 Fierce wrath dar tea from under her squared brows ; 
 her high nose grew thinner; a network of small 
 meshes twitched about her mouth ; her long fingers 
 tightly clutched the gold snuffbox which usually 
 lay within them. Yet Miss Wolfe, having recovered 
 her self-possession, looked sombrely at the frost- 
 crowned volcano without a tremor. 
 
 ' Doreen/ my lady said, ' if your father knew of 
 .you what I know, it would kill him ; but I elect to
 
 STORMY WEATHER. 269 
 
 hold my tongue, because I love my brother more 
 than you your father. That you should be insolent 
 to me is what I might expect ; so I bear that 
 with equanimity. Thank you for showing me how 
 wrong I was in forming a Utopian scheme for joining 
 my brother's child to Shane. We will say no more 
 about that/ (Doreen heaved a sigh of relief.) 
 ' The indelicacy of your proceedings has shown me 
 that such a thing would be an insult to our name. 
 What ! a girl who corresponds clandestinely with a 
 married man; who gallops like a trull about the 
 country, regardless, not only of her own fair fame, 
 but of her family's ; who is on terms of familiar 
 intercourse with a parcel of scatter-brained youths 
 who make the capital of notoriety out of the jingle 
 of sedition. Is this a girl to be received in respect- 
 able society ? You spoke plainly ; so do I. If I 
 were to publish what I chance to know of you, no- 
 decent family would receive you within their doors. 
 But I must bear with you for many reasons ; your 
 base mother's blood among the rest. You must be 
 the skeleton in our cupboard. All I beg is, that 
 you will rattle your bones less publicly.' 
 
 Doreen's dark skin was mottled with pallor ; her 
 breath laboured ; her lips formed words, yet no^ 
 sound issued thence. At last she panted out : 
 
 ' Aunt ! you do not believe this of me ! You 
 must know me better !' 
 
 Then she stopped, perceiving Miss Curran's 
 startled visage in the doorway, which my lady could 
 not, having her back turned to it.
 
 270 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 ' Believe it ? Yes, I do/ cried the exasperated 
 countess ; e I believe that you ' 
 
 ' No ! Hold your tongue ! If you have no re- 
 spect for yourself or me, have some for Sara !' 
 Doreen exclaimed, as she hurried to the door. 
 
 My lady was filled with remorse, and bit her lips. 
 Her temper had got the better of her prudence ; and 
 regret followed swiftly upon angry words. 
 
 ' Doreen !' she cried, in a sudden desire to make 
 good in some sort the mischief which was done; 
 ' Doreen, at least be careful with your correspond- 
 ence; see that no one intercepts it; that no one 
 tampers with your letters !' 
 
 'My letters are my own/ Doreen retorted over 
 her shoulder, haughtily. ' Don't you ever dare to 
 touch them/ Then passing her arm round the 
 waist of trembling Sara, she led her away to enjoy 
 a delightful duet of tears in private. 
 
 My lady remained for a long while looking 
 straight before her, bewailing much the unexpected 
 turn which things had taken. It was unwise, con- 
 sidering what lay at the bottom of her heart, to 
 have goaded the damsel as she had done. A high 
 mettled steed resents the curb. Now all that had 
 been said about clandestine correspondence, and so 
 on, was strictly true ; was only what it behoved a 
 judicious relative to place in its true light before an 
 impulsive girl, who might come to find her reputa- 
 tion gone before she was aware there was a stain on 
 it. Yet her heart smote the countess when she 
 marked the look of horrified dismay which dawned
 
 STORMY WEATHER. 271 
 
 in her niece's face during the last harangue. It is 
 an ill thing to corrupt a mind which is innocent. 
 Unhappily this is a wicked world, in which it is 
 necessary for us to note certain sinful details for our 
 own safety's sake. Yet it is not a pleasing job to 
 impart such intelligence for the first time, especially 
 when ill-temper bids us make the worst of it. Lady 
 Glandore knew perfectly well that there could be 
 nothing in the letters from the married man, except 
 treason ; and that she had done wrong in suggest- 
 ing something else. Doreen, she thought, was not 
 a girl to break off the correspondence in consequence 
 of this new light. Indignant, strong in the purity 
 of her motives, she would only hate her aunt and 
 cling the more persistently to the married man and 
 all the other scatter-brained young persons, and 
 plunge more deeply into danger, through bravado. 
 
 As she meditated, examining each thrust that had 
 been made on either side, she regretted bitterly her 
 foolish speeches; and then her heart grew sick 
 within her as she came upon a barb, which, flung 
 without aim, hung from a smarting wound. As the 
 maiden had suggested, what should prevent reck- 
 less Shane from marching off to church some day 
 with pretty Norah, and returning to crave a blessing ? 
 The very thought of such a fatal proceeding caused' 
 my lady to rise from her seat with a bound, and 
 wring her hands in anguish. 
 
 ' What have I done — what have I done V she 
 groaned, ' that an earthly purgatory should be my 
 lot ? Did I fail in my duty to my lord ? Was I
 
 272 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 not too indulgent a wife, screening his unfaithful- 
 ness, enduring insult without end from that dreadful 
 woman V 
 
 Then she reflected how his death had not brought 
 peace to her ; how relentless Time had administered 
 secret scourgings, whilst she appeared to be sitting 
 — a noble, envied widow — between two growing 
 sons. Was her torment to go on increasing, instead 
 of wearing itself out with its own rigour ? What 
 would be the end ? That early sin which took place 
 so long ago — could any one declare that she was 
 aught but an unwilling agent in it ? Might the 
 trace of it never be washed clean? Was suicide 
 the only means of escape from an agony to which 
 on earth there seemed no term ? If, driven by 
 despair, she were to hurry unbidden into the pre- 
 sence of her Maker, might she not hope to be for- 
 given ? If your cross is too heavy for your 
 strength, sure you may be pardoned for casting it 
 aside ! 
 
 As she writhed, a prey to phantoms of retrospect, 
 she felt that Wr sin was not a faded one of long 
 ago ; that it continued still, and that while she per- 
 mitted it to roll on unchecked, numbers at compound 
 interest were being chalked to her account. That 
 dreadful secret which had blanched her hair ! Years 
 had woven such confusing complications round it, 
 that were she, taking her courage in both hands, to 
 speak out now, it would be only to transfer a burthen, 
 not destroy it. No, no ! Ten times no ! The time 
 for setting right the wrong was past — past, irre-
 
 STORMY WEATHER. 273 
 
 trievably. Instead of moaning over it, it were 
 better to concentrate all attention upon this matter 
 of Shane and Norah. At all hazards, the billing 
 and cooing of that couple must be stopped while 
 there was time. Shane was the late earl's eldest 
 
 son, and Mrs. Gillin ! And Norah was sixteen 
 
 years old, bred a Protestant by my lord's special 
 desire. Could his wife be misled in her suspicions ? 
 The conduct of Mrs. Gillin in the matter was most 
 amazing. My lady surveyed it from all points of 
 view. Truly she was racked by many torments. 
 Ate was at work. The orders of the dread goddess 
 were being carried out by the Eumenides. 
 
 vol. 1. 18
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A MOTHER'S WILES. 
 
 AVING indulged in a soothing torrent of 
 tears, Doreen departed with lightened 
 heart with the other young people for 
 an excursion on the bay. She felt all 
 the better for the passage of arms, for her breezy 
 common-sense told her that my lady's charges 
 resulted front" momentary pique, and had no founda- 
 tion in convifction. But, resulting from the quarrel, 
 a vista had risen in her mind for the first time of 
 what she might be sacrificing for her people's sake. 
 Evil tongues will wag. "Women who brave public 
 opinion have always gone to the wall, time out of 
 mind. No. Not always. Scandal had nothing to 
 say against the maid of Domremy; Judith's fair 
 fame was smirched in nowise by that little supper 
 en tete-a-tete with Holofernes. Miss Wolfe failed 
 to consider that the rapid action of that Jewish 
 tragedy, with its pitiless termination in the murder
 
 A MOTHERS WILES. 275 
 
 of a helpless sleeper, did much to keep the tongue 
 of scandal quiet. Had she held clandestine inter- 
 views with the doughty general, walked with him 
 by moonlight and so forth, it is highly probable 
 that all the geese in Jewry would have cackled, 
 and that the heroine would have been tabooed for a 
 brazen slut. Now the young lady whose peculiar 
 position interests us so much at present, while 
 perfectly innocent of wrong-doing, could uot but 
 see that her motives might possibly be misinter- 
 preted; that spiteful remarks, similar to her acmt's, 
 would probably go the round of Dublin. Was she 
 prepared to endure opprobrium ? was the game 
 worth the candle she was burning for it ? was the 
 good she was likely to achieve at all in proportion 
 to the social ruin which would fall upon herself ? 
 Like the generous young person that she was, her 
 first romantic feeling was an exultant glow at the 
 distant prospect of martyrdom; her second — due 
 to the practical firmness of her character — a doubt 
 whether she might not be self- deceived by inex- 
 perience. Then her father too — the good weak 
 father who cared very much for sublunary fleshpots 
 — what would he say when he came to know how 
 deeply circumstances were involving his child in 
 matters which he would surely disapprove ? She 
 could not help the stirring of an idea (which she 
 strove hard to lull to rest) to the effect that it is 
 not very heroic to drag innocent people into a mess ; 
 and a second one moved at the stirring of the first, 
 which whispered that if her own name were to be 
 
 18—2
 
 276 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 publicly bandied, her father would certainly get 
 into trouble for not keeping her in check. Her 
 aunt's was the wisdom of the world; there was no 
 doubt about it. 
 
 It is all very well to sacrifice yourself, vow that 
 you will never marry, that no woodbine-bonds of 
 family affection shall be permitted to spring up 
 around you — provided that you stand quite alone. 
 If you have a parent who delights in fleshpots, who 
 holds an honourable situation of which your own 
 heroics may deprive him, it is surely a matter of 
 doubt whether your better part would not be the 
 dusting of household furniture, the warming of 
 slippers, the mendiug of old stockings, instead of 
 the more picturesque operation of donning plume 
 and helm. What, I wonder, did the parents of 
 Joan of Arc think of their daughter when she 
 abandoned the care of sheep to go a-soldiering ? 
 Doreen recognised the objections to her proposed 
 course with [a pang, but wavered, searching for an 
 excuse such as should render her desires commend- 
 able. She would have liked to go down to posterity 
 as a female Moses. The position of the budding 
 lawgiver at Pharaoh's court was somewhat like her 
 own, save in the important point that he had no 
 father who loved fleshpots. If it might only be 
 permitted for Arthur Wolfe's daughter to wean 
 him from them to better things ! But that seemed 
 too good a prospect to be hoped for, so with a sigh 
 she put it from her. 
 
 As, after the recent skirmish, she reviewed the
 
 A MOTHER'S WILES. 277 
 
 situation, I grieve to relate she was not sorry for 
 her pertness. My lady had no business to say what 
 she had said, to make rude speeches, and to worry 
 about Shane. The young lady conceived herself 
 bound to speak up boldly in self-defence, to put 
 my lady down on the subject of private liberty, as 
 she often did in the matter of King William. The 
 two ladies started in all things from two opposite 
 poles. That they should clash was inevitable. But 
 she did promise herself to be more prudent in the 
 future for her father's sake ; to do what was feasible 
 for the good cause in private, strictly remaining in 
 the background herself, come what might. And 
 this resolution being firmly graven on her mind, 
 she busied herself about fishing-tackle with the 
 placid calm which passed with her for cheerfulness. 
 Meanwhile my lady sat alone in the tapestry- 
 saloon among the faded effigies of departed Crosbies, 
 looking appealingly at them as though they could 
 help her in an extremity. The guiding spring of 
 her life had been pride, which became firmly grafted 
 by marriage in the glory of her husband's lineage. 
 Pride it was which had supported her fainting heart 
 in many a bitter struggle. Black care had thinned 
 her cheek, had pressed crow's-feet about her restless 
 e y es j y e ^ save for a querulous manner and the 
 peculiar sudden dilation of the pupil which struck 
 us when first we were introduced to the stately 
 countess in '83, there was but little that was unusual 
 on the surface to tell a new acquaintance that the 
 battle which she fought was never-ceasing.
 
 278 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 In the late lord's lifetime she was wretched 
 enough — but with a numbing dulness which is its 
 own anodyne. Moreover, as we discovered on his 
 deathbed, the important secret, if important it were, 
 had been shared between the two. A secret known 
 to even one other person, whose feelings in the 
 matter are similar to our own, is lightened by more 
 than half its weight. He died. His widow was 
 condemned to drag the chain alone — worse than 
 alone, for yet one other person knew of it whose 
 feelings were remote from friendly. The late lord's 
 devil-may-care visage glanced sideways down with 
 an eternal smirk from its frame upon the wall. He 
 was dead. His breast was unburthened. He slept 
 in peace, and there was his smiling counterfeit 
 grinning at his unhappy partner. Did he sleep in 
 peace ? Oh ! If she could have been sure of that ! 
 But no/. Possibly he was enduring torments even 
 worse I than hers. As he lay choking between the 
 confines of two worlds, perchance he had been 
 allowed to see what was still concealed from her 
 human ken — and then had cried out the warning — 
 1 Set right that wrong while you have the oppor- 
 tunity/ How horribly unjust seemed the retribution 
 which pursued her ! Her sin had been the negative 
 one of living a long lie. If she had had courage to 
 confess — to abase her stiff-necked pride — the wrong 
 might have been set right with but little serious 
 injury to any but herself. But my lord — the prime 
 sinner — had encouraged this pride, declaring that 
 there was no call for a great sacrifice — until the last
 
 A MOTHER'S WILES. 279 
 
 moment when his eyes were opened, and he called 
 out in his agony, ( Beware !' By that time the pride 
 so long nurtured was become a second nature. 
 
 She could not all of a sudden break through the 
 ramparts of long usage. It was very well for him 
 to cry ' Stand on the pillory/ when he was himself 
 flitting beyond the reach of stone-throwing. It was 
 very well for his odious concubine to cry ' Confess V 
 who would be no sufferer by the confession. By 
 that improvised death-couch the widow had turned 
 the matter over in all its phases. Then she had not 
 perceived that, with every rising sun, the confession 
 would become more difficult — that (despite the lying 
 proverb) the rolling* stone would gather moss till 
 it should move slowly and more slowly, pressing 
 her breath out by degrees ere it ground her to 
 powder under its weight. 
 
 Sometimes she tried to forget, and almost fancied 
 that she succeeded, almost believed that her con- 
 science was quite hardened. Then something would 
 take place — a trivial circumstance — one of Doreen's 
 idle shafts, which set her nerves jarring, and the 
 painful truth forced itself upon her that there are 
 tender spots on the most seared of consciences. 
 She had wild accesses of rage within the secrecy of 
 her own chamber, in that my lord who simpered on 
 the wall should have wrecked her life so utterly. 
 She took refuge in religion, loathing the faith of 
 the surviving participator in her secret as an outlet 
 for surging hate and bitterness. She tried to take 
 refuge from her own trouble by smoothing that of
 
 280 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 others, but even in this — the last resource of those 
 who see life through jaundiced spectacles — she 
 found little consolation, for the trouble which she 
 soothed was at least open and laid bare. And so 
 the distinct working of a double consciousness — 
 one for good and one for evil at the same time — 
 (which we all feel within us) became unusually 
 evident in Lady Glandore, urging her at one 
 moment to a rash act for which she was gnawed 
 by deep remorse the next. May this account for 
 the growing dislike which she nourished for her 
 second son, while she fed the poor with soup and 
 wrapped their limbs in flannel ? Perhaps it was 
 the singular contradictions of her character which 
 induced Lord Clare to like and to respect her so 
 much, and which permitted him at the same time 
 to make that disgraceful suggestion without fear of 
 exclusion from the Abbey, anent Tone's letter. 
 ~~~For the thousandth time, as she twisted in the 
 great chair, my lady wondered whether it was really 
 too late to humble herself, to grovel in the dust, and 
 make confession. There was an obstacle which 
 rendered a tardy repentance impossible, at least 
 until it was removed. That long-cherished match 
 between Shane and Doreen must be accomplished 
 first ; then, perhaps — but surely it could not be so 
 absolutely urgent ! Time, so far, had brought with 
 him only a complication of troubles, more tangled 
 than his usual fardel. Where was his all-comforting 
 finger, about which the poets have raved ? Sure 
 he would relent, and spare the countess the supreme
 
 A MOTHER'S WILES. 281 
 
 sacrifice. Not that so far lie showed much sign of 
 relenting. This idea of Doreen's about a secret 
 marriage, which had sent the blood tearing back to 
 her aunt's heart, was an extra knot in the web that 
 was smothering her. Norah must be put away ; 
 Shane must be seriously exhorted to observe his 
 cousin's charms. Of course she would never marry 
 Terence; nobody wished her to do so. This my 
 lady decided comfortably, on the principle that we 
 easily believe that which we desire. How could 
 Arthur Wolfe be bolstered into showing greater 
 strength of character, and induced to obey his 
 sister ? If she were to tell him what she knew of 
 Doreen, to impress on him by this means that a 
 speedy marriage was necessary for her. — No ! That 
 would not do. He would be capable of carrying 
 her off in a fright to London, Paris, Koine — any- 
 where out of temptation's reach. 
 
 Then, again, the dowager reflected on the chances 
 of who Norah' s father was ; and again her agony 
 ascended to a paroxysm. At all hazards so awful a 
 shadow as this hideous new one that loomed must 
 be exorcised. How ? Mrs. Grillin was brutish and 
 pitiless, of course. Why did she encourage this 
 terrible flirtation ? She could not realise, surely, 
 the sharpness of the tools with which she played. 
 Come what might of it, it was plainly her duty, for 
 everybody's sake (so the chatelaine pondered), to 
 take Madam Gillin to task as to her present conduct. 
 
 It is all very well to stick pins in your rival's seat 
 (so she must explain to her), but it is your distinct
 
 282 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 interest to be quite certain that you yourself may 
 not be called upon to sit on them. Gillin's spite 
 against my lady was doubtless great. She would 
 do much to injure her, but not to the extent of 
 ruining her own daughter, surely ? For, somehow 
 or other — probably on the principle that life not 
 being hard enough, we must practise self-torture — 
 my lady had quite made up her mind as to Norah's 
 parentage. Now Gillin must be bidden forthwith 
 to stop this scandal — and my lady was the one 
 person who could venture to broach the subject. 
 Then qualms of pride arose within the latter's 
 breast. The twain had never spoken but once — on 
 the dreadful evening at Daly's club-house. At 
 Castle-balls they had looked with Medusan gaze 
 right through each other; for the compact was 
 there — no less binding that it was unwritten — that 
 the mistress and the wife should never speak, save 
 on the subject of that secret. Had things not gone 
 crooked, nothing could have been more satisfac- 
 tory than such a compact. As things were, was 
 not Mrs. Gillin — inflamed to vulgar wrath through 
 her sinful designs being exposed — certain to set her 
 foul tongue clacking, to delve into old sores whose 
 cicatrices were yet soft, to plunge into long-buried 
 matters within hearing, perhaps, of other vulgar 
 wretches, who, in surprised horror, would blab to all 
 the world. Thus did my lady attempt to gloss over 
 her own dread, to veneer the promptings of her 
 pride with plausible reasons for avoiding that which 
 conscience — speaking through unconscious Doreen
 
 A MOTHER'S WILES. 283 
 
 — had specially declared must be done without 
 delay. 
 
 But it was more than a merely human woman 
 might be called upon to do. In my lord's time 
 people, more sensitive than the herd, marvelled 
 that the countess could bear the insulting presence 
 of her flaunting rival with such stoical equanimity. 
 That much she had bravely borne. But of her own 
 free will to descend from a pedestal occupied with 
 dignity during half a lifetime ; to lower herself to 
 an interview with the concubine, who would surely 
 jump upon the rival, voluntarily abased, was more, 
 much more, than mio-ht be demanded of a mortal. 
 It was not possible to call upon Mrs. Gillin. The 
 only remaining plan was to take Shane away ; to 
 follow Doreen's counsel, and move the household to 
 Ennishowen. 
 
 At this point in her self-communing, the limbs of 
 the countess shook with palsy, and her haggard face 
 looked really aged. Since the commencement of 
 her married life, she had carefully eschewed Glas- 
 aitche, the wild islet on Lough Swilly, where the 
 ■decayed castle of Ennishowen stood, and where that 
 had taken place which was the beginning of her 
 troubles. It would be dreadful to have to revisit 
 that spot ; yet to that sacrifice at least she was able 
 to resign herself, hoping that it might be counted 
 as half a penance. But Shane, would he consent to 
 be carried thither ? to forego the society of Norah, 
 the allurements of Dublin taverns ? And if he did 
 in this much obey his mother, could the match with
 
 284 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 his cousin be in anywise promoted? My lady's 
 brain grew weary and bewildered as she tried to fit 
 into harmony the pieces of her puzzle. 
 
 There was beloved Shane, galloping in, unkempt, 
 from last night's debauch. So soon as he had had 
 time to bathe and dress himself, his mother resolved 
 to summon the dear prodigal to her presence- 
 chamber, and try what her influence could accom- 
 plish. 
 
 When her favourite son appeared before her, with 
 two pointers gambolling about him, the countess's 
 stern face softened ; and well it might, for he was a 
 comely spectacle. Rather low in stature, but ele- 
 gantly made, with hair brushed backwards and 
 fastened by a diamond clasp, he looked, with his 
 delicate wan face, and eyes rendered the more 
 lustrous for the dark circles round them, a fit guar- 
 dian of the honour of Glandore. His air and manner 
 when in his mother's presence (as, indeed, in that of 
 Doll Tearsheet, or any other woman) assumed an 
 exquisite blandness, such as gave a false first im- 
 pression of effeminacy, which w r as corroborated by 
 the tiny dimensions of his hand. But are not first 
 impressions snares, my brethren, for the deceiving 
 of the unwary? That gazelle- like eye could, on 
 occasion, shoot forth a light of cold ferocity; that 
 finely- modelled little forefinger had many a time 
 sent a hapless boon companion to his last account 
 for an idle jest, with a cool precision and non- 
 chalance which compelled an unwilling sort of ad- 
 miration, despite its ruffianism. But this morning
 
 A MOTHER'S WILES. 285 
 
 he was in the best of humours, as Eblana and 
 Aileach danced about him, wagging their tails and 
 tumbling over and over, in their delight at his 
 friendly notice; for his head did not burn, neither 
 was his tongue parched, and he registered a mental 
 resolution to send a yacht forthwith to Douglas for 
 another hogshead or two of that especially pure 
 claret. 
 
 Drawing around him the ample folds of his 
 morning-gown (that becoming one of rose-coloured 
 brocade, thickly frogged and tasselled in gold), he 
 kissed his mother lightly, and played with the 
 jewelled watch-chains which dangled from either fob. 
 As her eyes wandered over his neat limbs, which 
 looked their best in tight blue-striped pantaloons 
 that ended midway down the calf in a great bunch 
 of ribbons, her spirits rose, for sure no damsel in 
 her senses could long resist so refined a combination 
 of elegant graces, leaving the lustre of the coronet 
 quite out of the question. But the female heart — 
 as my lady might be expected to remember — is 
 prone to erratic courses ; to start off down crooked 
 byways, instead of keeping the straight road ; to 
 take distracting and inconvenient fancies, and gene- 
 rally to distress its friends. 
 
 But Shane was a parti comme il y en a jpeu. If 
 he could only be induced to abandon the Doll Tear- 
 sheets, and direct amorous glances at the high-born 
 young ladies of the metropolis, Doreen might be 
 permitted to run her foolish race unchecked, for 
 Shane could be well married without her. Un-
 
 286 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 luckily the male heart is not too justly balanced 
 neither. Shane liked something more highly spiced 
 than an innocent miss, who, he declared, always 
 made him qualmish with a smell of bread and 
 butter. Nobody could accuse Doreen of anything 
 so vapid, and Shane certainly liked Doreen after a 
 careless fashion, though he never in his life had 
 made love to her. My lady now proposed to rate 
 him on this subject, for the possibility of choosing 
 another bride for him in due time was finally put 
 out of the question by the imminent danger of some 
 catastrophe with Norah. It was clear, all things 
 considered, that there was nothing for it but to 
 remove my lord forthwith to his fastness in the 
 north, and keep him there for a time ; and it was 
 quite certain that no high-born damsels with suit- 
 able attributes were to be found in the wilds of 
 Donegal, straying about in search of husbands. 
 
 ' Mother V Shane said gaily, ' we had such a 
 whimsical accident last night. George Fitzgerald 
 wagered to keep three of the best of us at bay with 
 his single rapier-point, for a whole hour. I saw he 
 was too drunk to stand, so I took the bet at once, 
 and off we marched, borrowing their lanterns from 
 the watchmen as we passed, to the ring in Stephen's 
 Green. George steadied himself against the statue, 
 and really made superb play — I could not have 
 done better myself — till somebody in the crowd 
 shouted, " For God's sake part them !" to which 
 another blackguard hallooed, <( Let them have it 
 out, for one will be killed, and the rest hanged for
 
 A MOTHER'S WILES. 287 
 
 murder, and so we shall be rid of a bunch of pests." 
 Of course this roused us, so we all turned on him, 
 just to show he was wrong; and faix he was wrong, 
 sure enough, for 'twas he that got killed, and none 
 of us are ripe for hanging/ 
 
 1 But, Shane ! J my lady exclaimed, ' who was the 
 man ? You are so imprudent/ 
 
 ' No one of any importance/ responded her son, 
 carelessly. ' An old busybody — a shoemaker, I 
 think, or a baker. Sure it was an accident, for 
 George meant only to pink the spalpeen, and his 
 sword went in too far — a miscalculation. Do you 
 know, mother, that there'll soon be no end to the 
 insolence of these ruffians ? There's a report at the 
 Castle that that crazy idiot Tone, to whom you were 
 always much too kind, has succeeded in persuading 
 the French to take up his cudgels. He'll dance the 
 Kilmainham minuet, as the saying is, take my word 
 for it, and serve him right ; but Lord Camden really 
 thinks it's serious. He talked with such mystery of 
 plots last evening, of some scheme for attacking 
 Dublin, that I thought his excellency was having a 
 joke with us, till he said if things go on as they are 
 going, there'll be nothing for it but to proclaim 
 martial law.' 
 
 My lady meditated for a time, reviewing this in- 
 telligence. ' Then these United Irish did not intend 
 to be mere wind-bags ? ' she thought, and my Lord 
 Camden was beginning to be afraid of them. Her 
 common-sense told her that if, in a tussle, they got 
 even for a moment the upper hand, their vengeance
 
 288 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 would fall heavily upon the perpetrators of such reck- 
 less escapades as that which Shane had just narrated. 
 At any rate, it was not good to give them such food 
 for complaint. My lady's caste prejudices blinded 
 her to the fact that when half-a-dozen youths (even 
 blue-blood ones) set on a single man and slay him, 
 the act is no better than murder, though they are 
 content to deplore it for a minute as an accident. 
 There was no doubt left in her mind that Doreen's 
 advice had been of the very best. She must even 
 go to Ennishowen, however great the pain might 
 be to herself in the revival of unpleasant memories. 
 So, shaking her head, she remarked : ' Dear Shane ! 
 in '45 the Scotch rebels advanced within a hundred 
 miles of London. If 5,000 ragged Highlanders are 
 capable of that, why should not the French army 
 march on Dublin ? Lord Clare spoke to me yester- 
 day on the subject of the yeomanry. It seems that 
 the Privy Council expect you to undertake this 
 district/ 
 
 1 1 should like that !' Shane said. 
 
 'It would not be wise, though/ returned his 
 mother, quietly. ' The aristocracy will have a difficult 
 game to play if these silly people really aim at 
 violence. The executive will have brought it on 
 themselves, and it's only fair that they should get out 
 of their own difficulties in their own way. In '82, 
 when your father and I both wore the uniform, the 
 case was different. Landlord and tenant were 
 united, as lord and servant of the soil, against a 
 foreigner who had maltreated both. Things have
 
 A MOTHERS WILES. 289 
 
 -changed since then. The position of the nobles is 
 different. They have become Anglicised. Much of 
 their interest is English. Yet it would be best for 
 theru not too openly to join the foreigner in coercing 
 their own tenants — at least, not just now/ 
 
 The cunning old lady was saying what she did 
 not quite believe, having in view an object, and 
 Shane looked at her in surprise. 
 
 ' If riots take place/ the countess proceeded, ' the 
 commander-in-chief will put them down, if he thinks 
 proper, with the English troops who have come over 
 lately ; and he and they will bear the odium. The 
 Irish nobles would be placing themselves in a false 
 position by interfering against their own people 
 with too great alacrity. At all events, they will 
 gain a point by waiting/ 
 
 'But, mother, the other lords are heading the 
 squireens. If I hold back they will say I am a 
 coward V 
 
 1 Not so, my son. Your proceedings every day 
 would give the lie to that. I grant that if you sat 
 here, or roystered on in Dublin, you might be ac- 
 cused of shuffling, which would not do. But if you 
 went away ? Not to England, no ! That would 
 not do either. Why not go to Ennishowen, under 
 the pretext that here everything is safe under the 
 paternal rule of the executive, whilst in the vast 
 wild northern district, over which you hold sway, 
 it would be politic for the lord to be amongst his 
 tenants ? You would be of local service, and at 
 
 vol. 1. 19
 
 290 MY LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 that distance no one could be sure whether or no< 
 your future actions were guided by events/ 
 
 1 You do not believe that this pack of fools will 
 do any harm V 
 
 ( Certainly not, or I would not counsel you to- 
 go away. Cannot you see that in ignoble squabbles 
 with the scum it is best to keep clean hands by 
 remaining neutral ? They will be put down — of 
 course they will be put down ; but, you stupid 
 fellow, we must so manage that you have no hand 
 in it. We will go to Glas-aitch-e. 'Tis long since 
 we were there/ 
 
 Shane twirled the satin ear of Eblana round his 
 finger absently. This move of his mother's puzzled 
 him. What would his life be away at wild Glas- 
 aitch-e' without his boon companions, among boors 
 who had probably never heard of a Hellfire Club ? 
 In earlier days he used to be madly fond of field- 
 sports, was still devoted to certain branches of the 
 chase. But suddenly to leave the joys of a gay 
 metropolis to bury himself in a hut on practically 
 a desert island, was no pleasant prospect. And dear 
 Norah, too, must she be left behind ? Accustomed 
 as he was to bow to his mother's ascendency in 
 political questions as in the management of the 
 estates, the vision of Norah deploring in dishevelled 
 loneliness the absence of his fascinating self was too 
 much for him. 
 
 ' I cannot go, mother ! It would look like flight/ 
 he said with a show of firmness. 
 
 My lady was too acute not to read his- thoughts ;
 
 A MOTHER'S WILES. 291 
 
 too wise to expect her son to yield without a flutter. 
 She moved with stately sweep to where he sat, and, 
 pressing his face with her two hands, whispered 
 foudly as she knelt down beside him. ' My darling, 
 do you not know that I would cut my heart out for 
 you, that I would walk to the stake to save you one 
 needless pang ? Men can never realise the fulness 
 of a mother's love — the sublimity of its unselfishness 
 — the majesty of its devotion. It is the one ray 
 of the Divine which has been allowed to glimmer 
 forth on our dull earth. Do you suppose I would 
 counsel you to aught that could bring you injury ? 
 that I have not anxiously weighed each side of the 
 question before deciding what is best ? You know 
 that I love you much better than myself. You know 
 that Heaven has denied you cleverness. You are 
 not clever, my poor child ; but we can't help that, 
 can we ? And you are not good, I am sorely afraid. 
 Yet as your mother I love you no whit the less. Try 
 to comprehend what a mother's love is like — how 
 large — how grandly blind in that it might see but 
 will not !' 
 
 As she spoke, the poor lady who had been so 
 buffeted by worldly troubles was transfigured by 
 the strength of her affection for this one being. 
 The fact of her loving nothing else served but to 
 increase her love. As one, some of whose senses 
 have decayed whilst others are proportionately sen- 
 sitised, she felt with intensity all which affected her 
 firstborn. It was strange that she could not re- 
 member that Terence also was her son — that he had 
 
 19—2
 
 292 M Y LORDS OF STROGUE. 
 
 pined for such a display as this all his life in vain — 
 that even now (yawning in the Four-courts) he would 
 have upset the presiding judge and sent all the 
 attorneys to a man into the Liffey, and galloped at 
 breakneck speed to Strogue if his mother would 
 only have given him one of the looks which she was 
 lavishing on Shane — one of those hand-touches that 
 are in nowise akin to c paddling/ but which send 
 stronger thrills through us than the most languish- 
 ing of eyes. 
 
 ' Ireland is being involved in complicated diffi- 
 culties/ she pursued. ' You must be obedient, and 
 allow me to lead you through them safely. It will 
 only be for a month or two. Then all will be over, 
 and we can come back here again. Say you will 
 do as I wish V 
 
 Shane never could long withstand his mother's 
 coaxing, when she condescended to implore. Is it 
 not always thus ? Is it not worth while to be- 
 haughty, arrogant, ill-tempered — as the case may 
 be — if only for the fuller appreciation of our be- 
 nignity when we elect to be benign ? Shane clung 
 to the dowager's last straw, which with artful art- 
 lessness she had held out to him. It would only be 
 for a month or two. It would do Norah all the good 
 in life to miss her beloved for a space ; while he was 
 away, she would measure his merits, and fly with 
 rapture to his bosom on his return. It would be rather 
 fun, too, again to visit for a few weeks the haunts 
 he used so to doat upon. But it ill became him 
 as one of the sterner sex to be over-easily persuaded.
 
 A MOTHER'S WILES. 293 
 
 f It will be very dull up there, mother/ he ob- 
 jected. 
 
 ' How civil of you/ the countess said, kissing him, 
 for she saw the point was gained. ' If you are a 
 good boy, I will ask your uncle to let Doreen come 
 too. Her eccentricities will enliven us/ 
 
 ' You are always talking of Doreen V complained 
 my lord. ' I can't see why you make so much fuss 
 about her/ 
 
 ( Then we won't take her/ responded my lady, 
 with prompt and Machiavellian wisdom. 
 
 ' I care not/ he returned. ( Perhaps we had 
 better take her, and I'll teach her to shoot seals/ 
 
 And so the matter was decided, whilst my lady 
 made up her mind that, once in Donegal, her son 
 should stop there under one pretext or another until 
 all danger from Miss Gillin should be averted. 
 
 end op vol. 1. 
 
 BILLING AND SONS, PRINTERS, GUILDFORD, SURREY. 
 
 S. <fc H.