I spent the rest of that day in wandering over the familiar haunts on
Fanad, in the vain hope of encountering Tim. Towards night, worn-out
with weariness and excitement, I abandoned the quest, and dropped back
on the tide to Rathmullan.
The place was full of reports of the new orders which had come from
Dublin for the disarming of the people, and of the military rigour with
which soldiers and magistrates between them were putting their powers
into force. Nearly a hundred stands of arms had, it was rumoured, been
captured the day before at Milford, and one man who resisted the search
had been hung summarily on the nearest tree.
As I sat screened off in a quiet corner of the inn over my supper, a
new-comer entered and joined the group who were discussing the news of
the day in the public-room.
"Well?" was the greeting of one or two as he entered.
"Whisht, boys! we're done intirely," said the new-comer.
"How done? Did he not pass that road?"
"He did; but never a hair of him was singed."
"I knew Paddy was a botch with the gun," said one; "there should have
been better than him for such a job. Was he taken?"
"'Deed, I don't know how it all happened, but you're out about Paddy.
He did his best, I'm told, and there were two to second him. But the
job had got wind, and Paddy got a shot in the arm before he could let
fly. And they tell me the other two are taken."
A cry of consternation went round the audience. "If Flanagan's one of
them--"
"The very boy."
"It'll be a bad job for us all, then, for Flanagan will save his skin if
twenty others swing for it. Where is he?"
"At Knockowen for the night."
"No news of Tim Gallagher?"
"Not a word. It's a wonder what's keeping him. He's badly wanted."
"'Deed, you may say so. He's the only gineral we have."
"As for Flanagan," said some one else, "I'm thinking he may not have
toime to turn king's evidence. They're making quick work of the boys
now. Is there no getting him away out of that before he tells?"
"Knockowen's guarded like a fort, with a troop of horse quartered in
it."
"Dear, oh! Do the rest of the boys know of it?"
"Ay, and they've scattered. And I'm thinking that is what we'd best do,
in case Flanagan names names."
"You're roight," said the chief speaker, rising. "By the powers,
there'll be a big reckoning for all this when Tim comes home."
And they trooped out into the road.
All this was disturbing enough, and decided me to be early at my
appointment with his honour in the morning.
"Yet," said I to myself, "men who can talk thus above their breath in a
public inn are not the sort of men that will turn the land upside down.
What would Lord Edward say if he could hear them--or Tim, for the matter
of that?"
It was scarcely eight o'clock next morning when I pulled boldly up to
his honour's pier and moored my boat.
At the garden entrance stood a trooper on guard, who brought his gun to
the port and demanded what I wanted, "I am here to see his honour, at
his bidding."
"What is your name?"
"Barry Gallagher."
The soldier gave a whistle, and a comrade from within approached, to
whom he spoke a few words.
"Wait there!" said the sentinel to me, closing the gate as if I were a
beggar, and resuming his pacing to and fro.
I swallowed my pride as best I could. If I had been fool enough to
flatter myself I was to be welcomed with open arms and made much of for
yesterday's exploit, this was a short way of undeceiving me. For a
quarter of an hour I kicked my heels on the narrow causeway, looking up
sometimes at the windows of the house for a chance glimpse of my little
lady. How would she meet me after all these years? Would it be mere
graciousness to one who had done her a service, or something more? I
should soon know.
The sentinel presently opened the gate and beckoned me to approach.
"Pass, Gallagher," said he, motioning me to follow his comrade.
The latter conducted me up the garden, and round the house to the yard,
where a strange scene met my eyes.
A soldier stood on guard at each doorway. In the middle of the open
space was a table, and at it three chairs, in which sat his honour,
another gentleman, and a choleric-looking man in the uniform of a
captain of horse. Standing before the table handcuffed, and in the
custody of three policemen, stood Flanagan and his comrade, whom I had
last left back to back on Black Hill Road.
His honour recognised my arrival with a cold nod, and Flanagan, who was
apparently under examination at the moment, scowled viciously. The
other prisoner, who seemed as much fool as knave, looked with white face
first at his judges, then at the doors, and finally with a listless sigh
straight before him.
"How many does your society consist of?" his honour's fellow-magistrate
was inquiring of Flanagan as I arrived.
"Och, your honour, there you puzzle me," began the shifty informer; "it
might be--"
The officer brought his fist down on the table with a sound which
brought all the soldiers about the place to attention, and made the
prisoners start.
"Speak out, sir, or you shall swing on that hook on the wall in two
minutes."
"Arrah, colonel dear, sure I'm telling you. There's forty-eight sworn
men, and that's the truth."
"You are the secretary," said the magistrate. "Give me a list of their
names."
"'Deed, sir, my memory is not what it was, and the book--"
"Here 'tis, captain," said a soldier, advancing with a salute, and
holding out a small copy-book; "it was found on him."
"That will do," said the magistrate, putting it down without examining
it. "Who is your captain or leader?"
"Who's the captain?" repeated the prisoner vaguely.
"You hear what I say," replied the magistrate. "Answer the question at
once!"
"The captain? Sure, sir, it's Tim Gallagher, own brother to the man
who's standing there."
Here all eyes were turned on me, and I found it difficult to endure the
unfriendly scrutiny with composure. Had I walked into a trap after all,
and instead of thanks was I to find myself implicated in this plot and
suspected as a rebel?
"Tim Gallagher," said the magistrate, turning to his honour. "Do you
know him, Gorman?"
"I do," replied Mr Gorman shortly, and evidently uneasy. "His father
was once a boatman on my place."
"Ah, and a smuggler too, wasn't he? We used to hear of him at Malin
sometimes."
"Likely enough. He was drowned some years ago."
"And his two sons are rebels?"
"One is by all accounts," said his honour; "the other is here, and can
speak for himself."
"I am no more a rebel than you," said I hotly, without waiting to be
questioned. "I am a servant of the king. His honour here knows if I
ever joined with them."
"It is true," said his honour, as I thought rather grudgingly, "this
rough-spoken young man was the one who frustrated the attempt on me
yesterday. I know of nothing against his loyalty."
"Yet," said the presiding magistrate, who had been turning over the
leaves of the secretary's book, "I find Barry Gallagher's name down here
as having taken the oath. How's that?"
"It's false!" exclaimed I, betraying more confusion at this sudden
announcement than was good for me. "I was once forced, years ago, with
a gun at my head, to repeat the words or some of them; but I was never
properly sworn!"
"How did you hear of the attempt that was to be made on Mr Gorman?"
demanded the officer suspiciously.
"By accident, sir. I overheard the whole plot."
"Where?"
"That doesn't matter. I'm not under arrest?"
At this the officer glared at me, his honour drummed his fingers on the
table, and the other magistrate looked sharply up.
"We can remedy that in a moment," said he; "and will do so unless you
treat this court with more respect. We require you to say if you know
the meeting-place of this gang."
"Sure, your honour, I'm after telling you--" began Flanagan, when he was
peremptorily ordered to be silent.
"Answer the question!" thundered the officer, "or--"
Mr Gorman looked up. He had his own good reasons for preventing any
revelations as to the secret uses to which Kilgorman had been put in
past times.
"Pardon me, captain, would it not be much better to take information
like this in a more private manner, if we are to run these villains to
earth? At present, what we have to decide is as to the two prisoners;
and there seems no question as to their guilt. I identify them both as
the men who attacked my car, and whom Gallagher here helped to capture."
The officer growled something about interfering civilians, but the other
magistrate adopted his honour's view.
"Perhaps you are right, Gorman; but we must find out their hiding-places
for all that later on.--Have you any questions to ask, Captain Lavan?"
"Only how long is this formality going on? It's as clear a case as you
could have, and yet here have we been sitting an hour in this draughty
yard trying to obscure it," said the soldier gruffly. "I'm sent here to
administer martial law, not to kick my heels about in a police-court."
The two magistrates took this rebuke meekly, and the president proceeded
to pronounce his sentence.
"Cassidy," said he to the prisoner who had not spoken, and who had
evidently refused to answer any question, "you have been caught red-
handed in a cowardly attempt to murder an officer of his Majesty, and
have admitted your guilt. You have also been proved to be a sworn rebel
against the king, and engaged in a conspiracy to overturn his government
in Ireland. According to the law, your life is forfeited, and I have no
alternative but to hand you over to the military authorities for
immediate execution."
"Guards!" cried the captain, rising, "advance! Take the prisoner
outside and shoot him. Quick march!"