"Down with the king! Down with informers!" and fell in between his
executioners, as they marched from the yard.
"As for you, Flanagan, your guilt is equally clear and heinous; but you
have given evidence which entitles you to more lenient treatment. You
will be taken to Derry Jail, till arrangements are made to send you out
of the country--"
"Faith, I'd start this day!" said Flanagan, on whom the perils of
remaining within reach of his late comrades were evidently beginning to
dawn.
"Silence! Remove the prisoner!"
At this moment the report of a volley in the paddock without sent a grim
shudder through the party. Flanagan, with a livid face, walked off
between his guards, and the three magistrates turned to enter the house.
His honour beckoned to me to follow, and took me into his private room.
"I owe you something for yesterday," said he in his ungracious way.
"Take a word of advice. Get out of these parts as soon as you can, and
warn your brother to do the same."
"Why should I go?" said I. "I've done nothing to be ashamed of."
"Unless you are prepared to tell the authorities everything you know,
and assist in hunting down the rebels, you are better away. You are a
marked man already among the rebels. Unless you assist our side you
will be a marked man among the authorities."
"If it comes to that, your honour," said I, "there is no man more marked
in these parts than yourself. The boys could forgive you for being on
the English side, but they can't forgive you for having encouraged them
once and turned against them now."
His honour turned white at this.
"How do you know that?" he demanded.
"How does every one know it?" replied I. "Your enemies are not likely
to let you off with yesterday's attempt."
His honour looked at me as if he would read in my face something more
than my words expressed. I was older now than I once was, and I was my
own master, so I had no reason to avoid his scrutiny.
"I have given you the advice of a friend," said he coldly; "take it or
leave it. Meanwhile, your business here is at an end."
"May I see Miss Kit?" said I, in a milder tone, which his honour at once
observed. "She desired to see me when I came to-day."
"Miss Gorman is not at home."
This was a blow to me, and I had not the art to conceal it.
"Will she be back to-day?" I ventured to ask.
"No; she has gone on a visit to friends," replied his honour, who
evidently enjoyed my disappointment.
"She expected to be at home when I saw her yesterday."
"And what of that? Pray, what matters it to you?"
"Only this," said I, warming up, "that I would lay down my life any day
for Miss Kit; and it is for her sake, and for her alone, that I would be
sorry to see harm come to a man to whom I owe nothing but harshness and
injury."
I repented as soon as I had said the words, but he gave me no chance of
drawing back. He laughed dryly.
"So that's at the bottom of it? The son of a boatman and smuggler
aspires to be son-in-law to the owner of Knockowen and Kilgorman--a
pretty honour indeed!"
Here I flung all prudence to the winds, and glared in his face as I
said,--
"Suppose, instead of the son of a boatman and smuggler, the man who
loved your daughter were the son of him whose estates and fortune you
have stolen, what then, Mr Gorman?"
He looked at me attentively for a moment, and his face turned so white
that I thought him about to swoon. It was a moment or two before he
could master his tongue, and meanwhile he kept his eyes on me like a man
fascinated.
"Fool!" he gasped at last. "You don't know what you are talking about."
Then with a sudden recovery of composure, and in a voice almost
conciliatory, he added, "Miss Kit is about to visit her friends in
Dublin, and will not be back here for weeks. Take the advice of a
friend, Gallagher, and get away from these parts. To give you the
chance, you may, if you wish to serve me, ride to Malin instead of
Martin, and escort my daughter as far as Derry."
"Miss Kit might prefer some other escort," said I.
"She might. You are not bound to wait upon her. But I can give you a
pass if you do."
"When does she leave Malin?"
"To-morrow forenoon."
"And what of Tim if he is caught?" said I.
"Warn him to keep on Fanad. He will be safe there."
"Let the horse and the passport be ready as soon as it is dark to-
night," said I. "I will be here."
"Very good. And see here, Gallagher," said he, "what did you mean when
you said just now that I had stolen any one's land and fortune?"
"What should I mean?" said I. "It's an old story you've got hold of,"
said he, "that was disposed of twenty years ago by the clearest proofs.
Do you suppose, if you had been what you are foolish enough to imagine,
I would have brought you up in my own house, eh? Wouldn't it have been
simpler to drop you in the lough? It was only my esteem for your poor
mother, Mary Gallagher, that prevented my letting all the world know
what you may as well know now, that Mike Gallagher, your father, was the
murderer of my brother."
"That is a lie," said I, "and some day I'll prove it."
"Ay, do," said he with a laugh. "It will take a good deal of proof."
"Not more than Biddy McQuilkin can give," said I.
He staggered at this like a man shot.
"Biddy is dead long ago," he exclaimed.
"Are you so sure of that?" said I. "Any way, I'll be here for the horse
and the pass at dark. And take my advice, Maurice Gorman, and see that
not a hair of Tim's head is hurt. You are safe as long as he is, and no
longer."
And not waiting to take food or encounter the other officials, I went
down to my boat and cast myself adrift on the dark waters of the Swilly.
My most urgent business was to find or communicate with Tim, and for
that purpose I set sail once more for the headlands of Fanad.
As to his honour's curious behaviour, I knew him and distrusted him
enough not to think much of it. He was a coward, cursed with a guilty
conscience, and would fain have passed himself off as a righteous judge
and powerful patron. He was anxious to conciliate me, not so much, I
thought, because of my hint about the property, which he was satisfied
was incapable of proof, as from a fear I might compromise him with the
authorities about his past dealings with the rebels. He was nervously
anxious to get me out of the country, and was willing to promise
anything, even Tim's safety and Miss Kit's society, to get rid of me.
But it would go hard with Tim if he had no security better than his
honour's word; and my dear little mistress, if she was to be won at all,
was not to be won as the price of a political bargain.
All the morning and afternoon I searched up and down in vain, meeting
not a soul nor any sign of my brother. With heavy misgivings I returned
to my boat, and set sail once more towards Knockowen. Half-way down the
lough it occurred to me that I would do better to pay a visit first of
all to Kilgorman. After the scare of this morning's business the rebels
would hardly have the hardihood to meet there to-night; and although
there was little chance of finding Tim there, the place contained a spot
known to both of us, in which a message could be safely deposited.
So I tacked about, and soon found myself once more in the deep cave.
The place was empty and silent, and as I crept along the rocky passage
nothing but the echoes of my own feet and of the dull waves without
disturbed the gloomy stillness of the place.
The big kitchen, already darkening, was deserted. Everything was as I
had left it two nights ago.
I lost no time in lifting the board and depositing in the recess below
the hearth my brief message for Tim:--
"Beware, Tim! You are marked down, and there's martial law after you.
Informers are at work, and the names are all known. Keep on Fanad. I
serve on H.M.S. _Diana_.--Barry."
This done, and the board replaced, I was about to retire so as to be in
time at Knockowen, when, taking a last glance round the gaunt room, my
eye was attracted by the flutter of a paper pinned to the woodwork of
one of the windows.
It contained a few words roughly scrawled with the end of a charred
stick. This is what it said, and as I read my heart gave a great bound
within me:--
"She's safe at Malin. The Duchman sails on the flud to-night.--Finn."
This, if it meant anything, meant foul play, and crushing the paper into
my pocket, I lost not a moment in regaining my boat and making all sail
for Knockowen.