My Lords of Strogue. Volume 2 of 3. Wingfield Lewis

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СКАЧАТЬ flashed across her. 'See that your correspondence is not tampered with.' Verily, Tone was right. There was a Judas playing a devilish game somewhere.

      'Mr. Tone has been long absent,' she said, with a troubled face.

      'None the less mischievous,' retorted the other, carelessly. 'But his claws are cut, for we know all he does as soon as it is done. Now, if Government has erred, is it not on the side of leniency?'

      'The fox was very civil to the bird on the tree-branch,' Mr. Curran observed dryly, who with Sara now joined them, 'until the fowl was fool enough to drop his cake! Your lordship is a bad Irishman, we know; but you should not take us for a race of idiots. The people are too quiet. You miss the trenchant articles in Tom Emmett's newspaper. You perceive that even the Orange outrages of Armagh have failed to goad the poor cowed creatures to rebellion. Give them more rope, my lord, and they'll certainly hang themselves-aye, and me too amongst them, I dare say!'

      Lord Clare coloured slightly, and bit his lip, but answered nothing.

      'At a moment when the foe is at our gates,' Curran pursued bitterly-'for the French armament at Brest is surely meant for Ireland-do you strive to unite all parties against a common enemy? No! Look at the scenes which are daily enacted under your auspices in the north. Robbery, rape, and murder; one brother at another brother's throat. Yet I am wrong. We are of one accord on one point. You are uniting us as one man against the conciliation of our animosities and the consolidation of our strength. Alas for Erin! Rent by faction as she is, there is nothing for her but a bridewell or a guard-house-the grinding tyranny of England or the military despotism of France!'

      Arthur Wolfe, who was always endeavouring to prevent these two from snarling, here interposed, and dragged the irascible little lawyer away. The chancellor, however, fired a parting shot-crying out in a tone of airy innocence:

      'On my honour, I know not what you'd have. We give every one as much liberty as possible. Look up at the gallery this moment. Every man in it has a bludgeon or shillalagh-and they're all staring at the box where the ex-prisoners are. I vow they look monstrous dangerous. It's brave of my lord-lieutenant to sit there so quietly!'

      It was true that all eyes were turned from time to time to that particular box, as though something unusual might be expected to take place. Meanwhile the unconscious lady-lieutenant in the refection-room continued to smirk and bow, highly pleased at the full gathering around her.

      Stout Madam Gillin panted through the crowd in an amazing turban of coquelicot and gold, distributing hearty handshakes to the right and left; and Norah looked so pretty as she brought up the rear, that the Countess of Glandore's ire was kindled, and she glanced anxiously about for her elder son. He was not present though, for he never would go anywhere where there were high-born young ladies.

      Mrs. Gillin too was looking out for somebody, and, perceiving Curran, beckoned him with her fan.

      'The young man,' she said in an undertone-'you know who I mean-I hear from old Jug that he's mighty annoyed about this Orr case. Indeed it's bad enough i' faith, but don't let him be rash.'

      'Terence?' Curran replied; 'I've been expecting him every moment.'

      'He's not here,' returned Mrs. Gillin. 'His man Phil's below with orders to await his coming. I don't like his getting mixed up in these things. It's not his place, you know. If his mother had a grain of goodness-but there! I can't mention her with patience.'

      Curran looked grave, and hurried away to cross-question Phil. It was singular that Terence should not have appeared. The two ladies, between whom there was the bond of a secret, looked each other in the eyes, and temptation was too much for my lady to resist.

      'These are indeed dangerous times,' she remarked sweetly to Lady Camden, 'when it behoves us all to do our duty. I beg you will assure his excellency that Glandore will not shrink from his. He can be of little use here where so many have come forward; but he will retire to Donegal as soon as it shall seem needful to watch over his tenants in the interest of Government. And I should not be surprised-but it is a terrible indiscretion-if when things are settled he should bring back with him a bride.'

      The stroke went home. Norah turned deadly pale; and Madam Gillin, who had commenced confidences about flannel with a neighbour, found herself suddenly called upon to attend to her daughter, who was fainting. Scarcely had the court circle gathered round the girl, than a new source of commotion became evident in the lobby. High words were being bandied, with a low accompaniment of murmuring. The harsh accents of the chancellor were ringing in remonstrance; Doreen, who, despite her aunt's frowns, had handed her pouncet-box to Madam Gillin, became aware that the other voice was Terence's, raised in unusual indignation. She was quickly carried by the stream to the scene of the disturbance.

      Yes; it was Terence, sure enough-in his boots; his hair disordered; a look of menace on his white face; and Lord Clare was striving to bar his passage. Honest Phil behind, firing-iron in hand as usual, stood watching his master's eye.

      'Let me pass, my lord!' the young man was saying fiercely. 'An innocent man's life hangs on a thread. I have striven to see his excellency for hours, but have been prevented. He is in his box I know, and I will see him. It cannot be that he knows what's happening! The conscience-stricken jury have repented of their crime, they have made solemn oath that they convicted Orr (God have mercy on them!) when they had been made hopelessly drunk by Major Sirr. Even that's not all. The soldier, too, is afraid of what he's done, and owns that he had a private reason for his malice. Orr will be hanged at dawn unless Lord Camden signs his respite. I'm sure his excellency cannot know what's passing! It's the effect of this horrible one-witness law of yours. Even Caiaphas and his Sanhedrim dared not, in the great judicial murder, to set aside the law which demands at least two witnesses. Even Jezebel suborned two men of Belial to bring about the end of Naboth!'

      Perceiving that the throng were in favour of the pleader, Lord Clare strove to draw away the son of his old friend, lest the public should think fit to take an inconvenient part in the discussion-an effort in which he found unexpected help from Curran. The party retreated therefore into an adjoining cloak-room, followed only by a few, while Phil kept doughty guard without, and Lady Camden tried to look as if she were not flustered.

      'Oh, that drunkenness should be employed to procure the murder of a man!' Terence cried in agitation. 'If Orr dies, this will be the most savage act which has disgraced even our tribunals. I have striven to believe in the honesty of Government. Let us go together and explain to his excellency while there's yet time!'

      The chancellor laid his hand on the young man's shoulder as if to soothe a petulant child; while Curran sat on a table with arms crossed and a sour smile flitting about his lips.

      'Young gentleman,' Lord Clare said, 'take the advice of an older man and your mother's friend. Keep aloof from these matters, and don't give credence to grandams' tales. We understand what we are doing, and want no dictation from raw youths-we are satisfied of Orr's guilt. You are keeping bad company, as I warned you once' (with a furtive side-glance at Mr. Curran), 'and will get yourself into trouble!'

      Terence's arms dropped to his sides, and he stood thinking. A whispering without could plainly be distinguished through the closed door. He looked for help to his chief, who had spoken out so bravely at the trial, but who now swung his legs in silence.

      Presently he sighed, and passing both hands over his face, said slowly: 'Then they were right-I could not, and would not believe it. The lord-lieutenant, then, is a passive instrument in the hands of wicked men-he is made, for a purpose, grossly, inhumanly, to abuse the royal prerogative of mercy, of which the King himself is but a trustee for the benefit of his people. Some of those jurymen were threatened by suborned fellow-jurors-their tottering consciences deadened for awhile by drink; but they have woke to remorse in time. You say this hideous СКАЧАТЬ