The Wild Geese. Weyman Stanley John

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      Flavia turned a shade paler. "Why?" she repeated.

      "'One God, and Mahomet His prophet' – couldn't swallow it. One finger!" the man answered jerkily. "Next week – same. Third week – "

      "Third week?" she murmured, shuddering.

      "Exchanged."

      She lifted her eyes with an effort from his maimed hand. "How many were you?" she inquired.

      "Thirty-four." He laughed drily. "We know one another when we meet," he said. He drew his waxed thread between his finger and thumb, held it up to the light, then looked askance at the gossoons about him, to whom what he said was gibberish. They knew only Erse.

      The day was still, the mist lay on the lake, and under it the water gleamed, a smooth pale mirror. Flavia had seen it so a hundred times, and thought naught of it. But to-day, moved by what she had heard, the prospect spoke of a remoteness from the moving world which depressed her. Hitherto the quick pulse and the energy of youth had left her no time for melancholy, and not much for thought. If at rare intervals she had felt herself lonely, if she had been tempted to think that the brother in whom were centred her hopes, her affections, and her family pride was hard and selfish, rude and overbearing, she had told herself that all men were so; that all men rode rough-shod over their women. And that being so, who had a better right to hector it than the last of the McMurroughs, heir of the Wicklow kings, who in days far past had dealt on equal terms with Richard Plantagenet, and to whom, by virtue of that never-forgotten kingship, the Sullivans and Mahonies, some of the McCarthys, and all the O'Beirnes, paid rude homage? With such feelings Sir Michael's strange whim of disinheriting the heir of his race had but drawn her closer to her brother. To her loyalty the act was abhorrent, was unnatural, was one that could only have sprung, she was certain, from second childhood, the dotage of a man close on ninety, whose early years had been steeped in trouble, and who loved her so much that he was ready to do wrong for her sake.

      Often she differed from her brother. But he was a man, she told herself; and he must be right – a man's life could not be ruled by the laws which a woman observed. For the rest, for herself, if her life seemed solitary she had the free air and the mountains; she had her dear land; above all, she had her dreams. Perhaps when these were realised – and the time seemed very near now – and a new Ireland was created, to her too a brighter world would open.

      She had forgotten Bale's presence, and was only recalled to every-day life by the sound of voices. Four men were approaching the house. Uncle Ulick, Colonel John, and the French skipper were three of these; at the sight of the fourth Flavia's face fell. Luke Asgill of Batterstown was the nearest Justice, and of necessity he was a Protestant. But it was not this fact, nor the certainty that Augustin was pouring his wrongs into his ears, that affected Flavia. Asgill was distasteful to her, because her brother affected him. For why should her brother have relations with a Protestant? Why should he, a man of the oldest blood, stoop to intimacy with the son of a "middleman," the son of one of those who, taking a long lease of a great estate and under-letting at rack rents, made at this period huge fortunes? Finally, if he must have relations with him, why did he not keep him at a distance from his home – and his sister?

      It was too late, or she would have slipped away. Not that Asgill – he was a stout, dark, civil-spoken man of thirty-three or four – wore a threatening face. On the contrary, he listened to the Frenchman's complaint with a droll air; and if he had not known of the matter before, his smile betrayed him. He greeted Flavia with an excess of politeness which she could have spared; and while Uncle Ulick and Colonel John looked perturbed and ill at ease, he jested on the matter.

      "The whole cargo?" he said, with one eye on the Frenchman and one on his companions. "You're not for stating that, sir?"

      "All the tubs," Augustin answered in a passion of earnestness. "What you call, every tub! Every tub!"

      "The saints be between us and harm!" Asgill responded. "Are you hearing this, Miss Flavia? It's no less than felony that you're accused of, and I'm thinking, by rights, I must arrest you and carry you to Batterstown."

      "I do not understand," she answered stiffly. "And The McMurrough is not at home."

      "Gone out of the way, eh?" Asgill replied with a deprecatory grin. "And the whole cargo was it, Captain?"

      "All the tubs, perfectly!"

      "You'd paid your dues, of course?"

      "Dues, mon Dieu! But they take the goods!"

      "Had you paid your dues?"

      "Not already, because – "

      "That's unfortunate," Asgill answered in a tone of mock condolence. "Mighty unfortunate!" He winked at Uncle Ulick. "Port dues, you know, Captain, must be paid before the ship slips her moorings."

      "But – "

      "Mighty unfortunate!"

      "But what are the dues?" poor Augustin cried, dimly aware that he was being baited.

      "Ah, you're talking now," the magistrate answered glibly. "Unluckily, that's not in my province. I'm made aware that the goods are held under lien for dues, and I can do nothing. However, upon payment, of course – "

      "But how much? Eh, sir? How much? How much?"

      Luke Asgill, who had two faces, and for once was minded to let both be seen, enjoyed the Frenchman's perplexity. He wished to stand well with Flavia, and here was a rare opportunity of exhibiting at once his friendliness and his powers of drollery. He was surprised, therefore, and taken aback, when a grave voice cut short his enjoyment.

      "Still, if Captain Augustin," the voice interposed, "is willing to pay a reasonable sum on account of dues?"

      The magistrate turned about abruptly. "Eh?" he said. "Oh, Colonel Sullivan, is it?"

      "Then, doubtless, the goods will be released, so that he may perform his duty to his customer."

      Asgill had only known the Colonel a few minutes, and, aware that he was one of the family, he did not see how to take it. It was as if treason lifted its head in the camp. He coughed.

      "I'd not be denying it," he said. "But until The McMurrough returns – "

      "Such a matter is doubtless within Mr. Sullivan's authority," the Colonel said, turning from him to Uncle Ulick.

      Uncle Ulick showed his embarrassment. "Faith, I don't know that it is," he said.

      "If Captain Augustin paid, say, twenty per cent. on his bills of lading – "

      "Ma foi, twenty per cent.!" the Captain exclaimed in astonishment. "Twenty – but yes, I will pay it. I will pay even that. Of what use to throw the handle after the hatchet?"

      Luke Asgill thought the Colonel either a fool or very simple. "Well, I've nothing to say to this, at all!" he said, shrugging his shoulders. "It's not within my province."

      Colonel John looked at the girl in a way in which he had not looked at her before; and she found herself speaking before she knew it. "Yes," she cried impulsively; "let that be done, and the goods be given up!"

      "But The McMurrough?" Asgill began.

      "I will answer for him," she said impulsively. "Uncle Ulick, go, I beg, and see it done."

      "I will go with you," Colonel Sullivan said. "And doubtless СКАЧАТЬ