His Honour was quite right; there was trouble enough out of that night's
business. But more for me than for him.
For him, as he was then situated, playing a fast and loose game between
the side of order and the side of treason, the fact that his house had
been attacked by friends of the latter party stood him in good stead
with the former. And if any of his brother magistrates had been
inclined to suspect him of half-heartedness before, this outrage might
be counted on to confirm his zeal for the right cause.
Under cover of this new security he was able to play even more than
before into the hands of the lawless party. His first act was to hush
up the affair of the night attack and procure the release of the two
prisoners. His next was to abandon me to the tender mercies of those
who sought vengeance for the blood of the dead man.
Once as I crossed the lough in a boat on his honour's business a shot
across the water, which buried itself in the gunwale, made me look
round, and I perceived one of the Rathmullan long-boats, manned by four
of the party I had overheard in the inn weeks before, in full chase.
The wind was slack, and escape was almost impossible. Could I only have
used my sail I might have led them a pretty dance out into the open. As
it was, without arms, one to four, and in a little, broad-beamed tub, I
could do nothing but haul down my sail and wait their pleasure.
"Martin was right this time," I heard him who had fired the shot say, as
he leisurely reloaded.
I was in doubt whether I was to be made an end of then and there, or
allowed the mockery of a trial.
"What's your will?" said I, as they came alongside. "You've no need to
scratch the paint of his honour's boat, anyway."
They said nothing, but hauled me bodily into their own craft, and tied
me hand and foot.
"Save your breath," said one presently, "till it's wanted."
And I was flung like a sack on the floor of the boat.
"What'll we do with yon?" said another, knocking his oar against the
Knockowen boat.
"Capsize her and let her drift," said the leader of the party.
So my old craft, which had carried me so often, and not me only but my
little lady whom it seemed I was never to see more, was upset and turned
adrift, to carry, for all I knew, the message of my fate to any whom it
might concern.
It was almost dark already, and by the direction my captors rowed I
concluded I was to be taken, not to Rathmullan, but to a landing-place
nearer the lough mouth. They cruised about till it was quite dark, and
then put in for a point called Carrahlagh, some miles south of my old
home on Fanad. Here my feet were loosed and I was ordered to march with
my company inland. The man with the gun walked by my side. The others,
who as we went along were joined by some half-score of confederates at
various points, who all gave a watchword on joining, talked among
themselves eagerly.
Presently we came to a hill--one I knew well--and here the stragglers
began to muster in larger numbers, till as we came to the hollow basin
below the top I counted nearly fifty. A few of them I recognised as old
gossips of my father's, but for the most part they were strangers who
seemed to have come from a distance.
About ten of the number carried guns, the rest were all armed with
either clubs or sticks, while one or two carried rude pikes.
I noticed that one of my captors, not he who guarded me, was looked up
to as the leader of the gathering; and when by common consent a circle
was formed, and sentinels posted, one on either side of the hollow, it
was he who stepped forward and spoke.
If he was an Irishman, his voice did not betray him. Indeed, he spoke
more like an Englishman, with a touch of the foreigner at the tip of his
tongue.
The first part of his speech was about matters I little understood--
about some Bill before the Irish Parliament at Dublin, and the efforts
of the friends of the people to defeat it. Then he went on to talk of
the great events taking place in Paris:--How the whole people were up in
arms for liberty; how the king there had been beheaded, and the streets
were flowing with the blood of the friends of tyranny. From end to end
of France the flag of freedom was floating. Was Ireland to be the only
country of slaves in Europe? She had a tyrant worse than any of whom
France had rid herself. The English yoke was the one secret of the
misery and troubles of Ireland, and so on. "Boys!" cried he, "the
soldiers of liberty are looking at you. They're calling on you to join
hands. Are you afraid to strike a blow for your homes? Must I go and
tell them that sent me that the Irishman is a coward as well as a slave?
There's fighting to be done, if there's only men to do it--fighting
with the men who wring the life's blood out of you and your land--
fighting with the toadies who are paid by England to grind you down--
fighting with the blasphemers who rob your priests and your chapels--
fighting with the soldiery who live on you, and tax you, and insult your
wives and daughters. It's no child's play is wanted of you. We want no
poltroons in the cause. We know the people's friends, and we know their
enemies; and it's little enough quarter will be going on the day we
reckon accounts. Arrah, boys!" cried he, letting go his foreign air for
a moment and dropping into the native, "it's no time for talking at all.
There's some of yez armed already; there's a gun for any mother's son
here that will use it for the people, and swear on the book to leave the
world with one tyrant less upon it. Come up, boys, and take the oath,
and shame to them that hang back."
Instantly there was a forward movement in the audience, as with shouts
and cheers they pressed towards the speaker.
He held aloft a book and recited the oath in a loud voice. As far as I
remember it bound every one to be a loyal member of the society
organised in that district to put down the tyrant and free Ireland from
the English yoke. It bound him, without question, to obey any command
or perform any service demanded of him in the cause. It pledged him to
utter secrecy as to the existence and actions of the society. And it
doomed him to the penalty of death for any breach of his vow.
In fours, each with a hand on the book, the company advanced and took
the vow, each man's name as he did so being written down and publicly
announced. Even the two sentinels were called from their posts and
replaced, in order that they might join.