Mike, who had remained silent during the conversation between his
sister and Desmond, returned to the room after seeing her out.
"Well, Mike, you have rendered me many services, but this is the
greatest of all. Little did I think, when you said you had found
your sister, and that she was coming to me this morning, that she
would be able to clear up the mystery of my birth, and to place me
in a position to prove myself a son of James O'Carroll. I do not
say that I shall regain the estates. My having been in the Brigade
will certainly render it difficult for me to do so, though
possibly, with the patronage of Lord Godolphin, I may succeed. For
that, however, I care comparatively little. My object, in coming
here, was to obtain proof that I belong to a good Irish family,
and that I have no doubt I shall be able to establish."
"And what am I to call you, your honour, now that I know you are
Captain Gerald O'Carroll, and not Desmond Kennedy, at all?"
"At any rate, I must remain Desmond Kennedy at present, Mike. It
is under that name that my safe conduct was made out, and if I
were arrested as Gerald O'Carroll, it would be no protection to
me. However, I shall not want to use it long, for it seems to me
that my first step must be to return to France, and to see some of
the officers who knew my father, and were aware of my birth. Their
testimony would be of great value, and without it there would be
little chance of your sister's evidence being believed."
"But there is the paper, your honour."
"Yes; that will show that a child was born, but the proof that I
am that child rests entirely with your sister. It might have died
when its mother did, and they would say that your sister was
trying to palm off her own child, or someone else's, as his. Of
course, Mrs. Callaghan would be able to prove that your sister
arrived immediately after the surrender of Limerick, bringing a
child with her, and that she said it was the son of James
O'Carroll; and that she went a year later to Kilkargan, and left
it there with John O'Carroll. Moreover, I could get plenty of
evidence, from those on the estate, that I was the child so left."
"The likeness that Norah saw between you and your father might be
taken as a proof, sir."
"I did not think of that, Mike. Yes, if some of these officers
will also testify to the likeness, it will greatly strengthen my
case. The chain of evidence seems pretty strong. First, there is
the certificate of my baptism, your sister's declaration that I
was entrusted to her by my mother on her deathbed, supported by
Mrs. Callaghan's declaration that three weeks later she arrived in
Cork with the child, which she told her was that of James
O'Carroll; your sister's declaration that she took me to Kilkargan
and handed me over to my uncle, which would be supported by the
evidence of the woman he first placed me with; while the servants
of the castle could prove that I was brought by a woman who, an
hour later, left the castle without speaking to anyone but my
uncle.
"John O'Carroll will find it difficult to explain why he took me
in, and who is the Kennedy of whom I was the son, and what service
he had rendered for him, a Protestant and a Williamite, to have
undertaken the charge of the child of a rebel. There is no doubt
that the weight of evidence is all on my side, but whether the
judges would decide in favour of the son of a rebel, as against a
friend of the English party, is doubtful. Possibly Lord
Godolphin's influence might be exerted in my favour. He promised
in his letter to me to do me any service in his power. Still, even
if I lose the estate, which I may well do on the ground of my
father having fought and died for the cause of James the Second, I
should still have the satisfaction of establishing my name, which
I consider of more importance than the estates."
"Sure, your honour, it's a grand thing to belong to a good old
Irish stock; but for myself, I would rather be Mike Callaghan and
have a fine estate, than Mike O'Neil without an acre of land."
Desmond smiled.
"There is common sense in what you say, Mike, but there is nothing
more unpleasant than, when you are with a number of Irish
gentlemen or Spanish grandees, who are equally proud of their
ancestors, to be unable to give any account of your family, or
even to be sure that you have a right to the name that you bear."
"Well, your honour, it is a matter of taste. As for myself, if the
whisky is good, it makes no differ to me whether they call it Cork
or Dublin, or whether it is made up in the mountains and has sorra
a name at all."
The next morning, Mrs. Rooney returned with the certificate of
baptism, and a list containing some twenty names of officers who
had been frequent visitors at James O'Carroll's. Among these
Desmond, to his satisfaction, found Arthur Dillon, Walter Burke,
Nicholas Fitzgerald, and Dominic Sheldon, all of whom now held the
rank of general in the French service, and to all of whom he was
personally known, having met them either when with Berwick or in
Spain.
"Those names are good enough," he said. "And if they can testify
to my likeness to my father, it will go a long way towards
furnishing proof, when required. All of them entered the service
under the provisions of the treaty of Limerick, and therefore
their testimony cannot be treated as that of traitors; and their
names must be as well known in England as in France.
"Now, Mike, our business here is, for the present, concluded. I
shall at once return to France, see all these officers who are
still alive, and obtain, if possible, their recognition. As I have
a year's leave, I can travel about as I choose. Then I shall
decide whether I shall commence an action in the courts, or
whether I shall first go over to England, see Lord Godolphin,
explain the circumstances to him, and ask for his protection and
patronage.
"I suppose the case would be tried at Dublin, where the judges are
all creatures of England, and there can be no doubt that a
notification, from Godolphin, that he considered my claim to be a
good one, and was favourable to it, would have no slight influence
with them; and would counteract, to some extent, the fact of my
uncle's being a Protestant, and what they would consider a loyal
man. Before beginning an action, I should certainly communicate
with my uncle, and call upon him to resign in my favour; for I
would avoid the scandal of proving an O'Carroll to be a scoundrel,
as well as a traitor. As it has turned out, the step which he
thought would disembarrass him of me has had the other effect,
for, if I had not gone out to France, I should never have been
troubled by questions about my family; and should not have met
you, Mike, or known of the existence of your sister, the only
person who could clear up the matter.
"I shall begin to think what O'Neil and O'Sullivan used to say,
that my luck would carry me through anything; and certainly, at
present, it has been marvellous."
"Which way will we go back, your honour?"
"Not the way we came, if we can help it. We were nearly a month
coming from Genoa, and might have been twice as long, if the wind
had not been fairly favourable. I think our best plan will be to
take passage by sea to London. There we shall have no difficulty
in finding a vessel bound for Rotterdam, or the Hague. Then we
will buy horses, and ride along by the Rhine. If we can get
through Luxembourg into France we will do so, but I think it will
perhaps be best to go on through Switzerland, and pass the
frontier somewhere near Lyons, where we shall be but a short
distance from Berwick's headquarters in Dauphiny."
A month later, they rode into the duke's camp. They had, on
leaving Toulon, packed up their uniforms and sent them to the care
of a friend on the general's staff. To his quarters they first
went, and having changed his civilian costume for a military one,
Desmond waited on the duke.
"Why, Captain Kennedy," the duke said, in surprise; "I did not
look to see you again, so soon. Have you been over to Ireland?"
"I have, sir, and though there only a few days, gained information
that necessitated my return here. I have found out that the name I
go by is not mine, and that my proper name is Gerald O'Carroll."
"The son of Major James O'Carroll, who fought by my side at the
Boyne, and was through the first siege of Limerick with me! That
explains it. Your face has often puzzled me. It seemed to me that
I recognized it, and yet I could not recall whose face it was that
it resembled so strongly. Now you tell me, I know at once. Your
father, when I first knew him, was a few years older than you are;
but he had the same figure, face, and expression.
"And so, you are his son! By what miracle have you discovered your
relationship to him?"
Desmond, or as he should now be called, Gerald, related as briefly
as possible the manner in which he had discovered his parentage.
"Your uncle must be a thorough villain," the duke said, hotly.
"That he was a traitor we all knew, but that he should thus rob
his brother's son of his inheritance is monstrous and unnatural."
"I am glad, indeed, sir, that you have thus recognized me. Your
testimony will go for much, even in an English court, and I hope
to receive a similar recognition from the officers who were
intimate with my father in the second siege, and whose names I
have here."
The duke glanced down the list.
"Well-nigh half of them are still alive," he said, "and all of
them are men of rank and repute, whose word would be taken even by
an enemy. How do you mean to proceed? Because I am afraid that,
even if we could spare them, there would be some difficulty about
their making their appearance in a court, in either England or
Ireland."
"I quite see that that is out of the question. All I can hope for
is, that such of them as recognize my likeness to my father will
draw up a paper saying so, and will attest it before a notary,
having as witnesses men of weight and honour equal to their own.
The production of such certificates could not but have a strong
influence in my favour."
"I will most willingly sign such a document," the duke said, "and
four of my best-known generals can sign as witnesses to my
signature."
"I thank you most heartily, sir. Such a document should, in
itself, be considered as ample proof of my strong resemblance to
my father."
"That may or may not be," the duke said, "but do not be content
with that. Get as many of the others as possible to make similar
declarations. One man may see a likeness where another does not,
but if a dozen men agree in recognizing it, their declarations
must have a great weight. Certainly no Irish judge would doubt the
testimony of so many men, whose families and whose deeds are so
well known to them."
From Dauphiny, Gerald travelled first into Spain, and the three
Irish officers there whose names were on his list all recognized
the likeness, even before he told them his name. He put the
question to them in a general way.
"I have learned, sir, that the name I bear is not my own, that I
am the son of an officer who was killed in the siege of Limerick.
May I ask you if you can recognize any likeness between myself and
any officer with whom you were well acquainted there?"
In each case, after a little consideration, they declared that he
must be the son of James O'Carroll. All remembered that their
comrade's wife had borne a son, shortly before the end of the
siege. They remembered her death, but none had heard what became
of the child, for in the excitement of the closing scenes, and of
the preparation for the march immediately afterwards, they had had
little time on their hands, and it was hitherto supposed that it
had, like so many other infants, perished miserably. They
willingly signed documents, similar to that which he had received
from Berwick.
He met with almost equal success on the northern frontier, only
two out of eight officers failing to identify him by his likeness;
until he mentioned his name, when they, too, acknowledged that,
now they recalled James O'Carroll's face, they saw that the
likeness was a striking one.
Having obtained these documents, he resumed civilian attire, and,
riding by crossroads, passed through Flanders to Sluys, without
coming in contact with any body of the allied troops. There he had
no difficulty in obtaining a passage to London, and on his arrival
called upon Lord Godolphin, who received him cordially.
"So you have utilized your safe conduct, Captain Kennedy. I am
glad to see my former captor, and I am as grateful as ever to you
for the silence you maintained as to that affair. If it had been
known to my enemies, I should never have heard the last of it.
They would have made me such a laughingstock that I could scarcely
have retained office.
"Now, what can I do for you?"
"It is a long story, my lord."
"Then I cannot listen to it now; but if you will sup with me here,
at nine o'clock this evening, I shall be glad to hear it. I am so
harassed by the backstair intrigues of my enemies, that it would
be a relief to me to have something else to think of."
Gerald returned at the appointed time. Nothing was said as to his
affairs while supper was served, but after the table had been
cleared, decanters of port placed on the table, and the servants
had retired, Godolphin said:
"Now, Captain Kennedy, let us hear all about it."
Gerald related the history of his younger days, and of the manner
in which he had discovered his real parentage, producing the
certificate of his baptism, a statement which had been drawn up at
Cork and signed by Norah Rooney, and the testimony of the Duke of
Berwick and the other Irish officers.
"There can be no doubt whatever, in the mind of any fair man,"
Lord Godolphin said, after listening attentively to the whole
story, and examining the documents, "that your uncle, John
O'Carroll, is a villain, and that you have been most unjustly
deprived of your rights. I know him by name, and from the reports
of our agents in Ireland, as one of the men who turned his coat
and changed his religion to save his estates. Those men I heartily
despise; while those who gave up all, and went into exile in
order, as they believed, there to serve the cause of their
rightful sovereign, are men to be admired and respected. Be
assured that justice shall be done you. Of course, you will take
action in the courts?"
"I shall first summon him to give up the estate, shall let him
know that I have indisputable evidence to prove that I am the son
of his elder brother, and shall say that, if he will give up
possession peaceably, I will take no further steps in the matter,
for the sake of the family name. If he refuses, as I fear is
probable, I must then employ a lawyer."
"Yes, and a good one. I will furnish you with letters to the lord
lieutenant, and to Lord Chief Justice Cox, strongly recommending
you to them, and requesting the latter to appoint one of the law
officers of the crown to take up your case. I should say that,
when this John O'Carroll sees that you have such powerful friends,
he will perceive that it is hopeless for him to struggle in so bad
a cause, and will very speedily accept your terms, though methinks
it is hard that so great a villain should go unpunished.
"Now, it will be as well that you should have something stronger
than the safe conduct that I sent you. I will therefore draw out a
document for Her Majesty to sign, granting you a full and free
pardon for any offences that you may have committed against her
and the realm, and also settling upon you the estates to which you
are the rightful heir, in and about the barony of Kilkargan; being
influenced in so doing by the great services rendered by you, both
to Her Majesty's well-beloved and faithful minister and
counsellor, myself, and to her trusty general, the Earl of Galway.
"The queen is not very likely to ask the nature of the service.
Unless it be something that concerns herself, she asks but few
questions, and signs readily enough the documents laid before her.
If she asks what are the offences for which she grants her pardon,
I shall say, when but a boy you were maliciously sent abroad to
join the Irish Brigade by your uncle, who wished thus to rid
himself of you altogether, and who had foully wronged you by
withholding your name, from you and all others. I shall also add
that you have distinguished yourself much, and have gained the
friendship of her half brother, the Duke of Berwick; and you know
that the queen, in her heart of hearts, would rather that her
brother, whom you Jacobites call James the Third, should succeed
her than the Elector of Hanover, for whom she has no love."
"I thank you greatly, indeed, my lord. Never was a man so amply
rewarded for merely holding his tongue."
"It was not only that, sir. It was your conduct in general to me.
You might have left me tied up in that house, to be found in the
morning, and to be made the jest of the town; instead of which,
you yourself conducted and guarded me hither, and so contrived it
that no whisper spread abroad that I had been carried off between
Saint James's and my own house. You trusted to my honour, in not
causing a pursuit of you to be set on foot, and behaved in all
ways as a gallant young gentleman, and certainly gained my high
esteem, both for the daring and ingenuity with which you carried
out your plans for obtaining a passage to France, and for your
personal conduct towards myself.
"Where are you lodging?"
"At the Eagle, hard by the Abbey."
"Remain there, until you hear from me. Do not be impatient. I must
choose my time, when either the queen is in a good temper, or is
in such a hurry to get rid of me, in order to plot and gossip with
Mistress Harley, who is now her prime favourite, that she is ready
to sign any document I may lay before her."
Feeling that his cause was as good as won, Gerald returned in high
spirits to his inn, where he delighted Mike by relating how the
great minister had promised to forward his suit.
"Ah, your honour, it will be a grand day when you take possession
of Kilkargan--bonfires and rejoicing of all sorts, and lashings of
drink. Won't all the boys in the barony be glad to be free from
the traitor, and to have the true heir come to be their master.
None the less glad will be my sister."
"You must fetch her from Cork, Mike. It is owing to her that I am
alive, and it will be owing to her if I recover the estate. She
shall have the place of honour on the occasion, though all the
gentry in the neighbourhood are there. When I tell them what she
has done for me, they will say that she well deserves the honour!"
"And you will go no more to the wars, Captain O'Carroll?"
"No, Mike. I have been but three years in the French army, but I
have seen enough of fighting, and, worse still, of fighting
against men of our own nation. Besides, if the queen grants me the
estates of my father, I shall consider myself bound in honour not
to draw my sword against her, or to mix myself up in any plot or
conspiracy, but to remain strictly neutral whatever may be going
on. Indeed, the more I think of it, the more I doubt whether it
would be for the good of Ireland did the Stuarts return to the
throne. It could only be done at a further cost of blood and
misery. The old religious quarrels would break out more fiercely
than ever, there would be risings and civil wars, confiscations
and massacres, whichever side happened to get the upper hand. That
James the Third is the lawful sovereign of the three kingdoms, I
shall always uphold, but there are cases when it is to the benefit
of the country, at large, that there should be a change in the
succession."
"Sure that may be so, your honour; and yet, it is hard that a man
should be kept out of his own."
"No doubt it is hard; but it is far harder that thousands of
people should be killed, and tens of thousands ruined, for the
sake of one man."
"So it is, sir. So it is, sure enough, when one comes to think of
it. Ireland has suffered mightily in the cause of the Stuarts, and
I don't suppose that, if King James succeeded to the throne, his
English ministers would let him turn out all the men who have
taken the places and lands of the old families."
"That they certainly would not, Mike. When Charles the Second
returned from exile, all those who had fought and suffered for him
thought that they would recover their estates, and turn out
Cromwell's men, to whom they had been granted. But they were
disappointed. The king found that he could not make so great a
change, without upsetting the whole country, and that an attempt
to do so would cost him his crown; and you may be sure that James
would find an equal difficulty, were he to come to the throne."
"Well, well, your honour, you know more of such matters than I do;
but I have no doubt that you are right. I am sure we don't want
the bad times to come over again, in Ireland."
Three days later, Gerald received a message from Lord Godolphin,
saying that he wished to see him; and, on going to his house, the
minister handed to him the paper with the full pardon, and the
confirmation of his ownership in his father's estates; together
with a letter to the lord lieutenant, and the Lord Chief Justice
Cox.
The next day, he took ship for Dublin, and on arriving there
presented his letters, and was well received by those to whom they
were directed.
The lord lieutenant said:
"It is enough for me, Mr. O'Carroll, that Lord Godolphin speaks of
you in such high terms, and I question not that he has thoroughly
satisfied himself as to your right to these estates. At the same
time, I should be glad if you will give me a brief outline of how
it is that you never claimed them before, though perhaps it is as
well that you did not do so, for, until the passions excited by
the war had somewhat subsided, a friend of the Government would
hardly have interposed for the benefit of the son of one who had
died fighting for James."
Gerald had drawn up three copies of a statement containing a
precis of the case, and he handed one of these to the lord
lieutenant, saying:
"As the story is a somewhat long one, my lord, I have written it
down, in order that you might read it at your leisure."
"I will certainly do so, Mr. O'Carroll. I should like to be
personally acquainted with the details of the matter. It will
doubtless excite a considerable stir. It is, I believe, the first
time that a supporter of the Government has had to defend his
title against one of the family that fought on the other side."
"It is hardly a case of royalist and rebel, sir, but the
deliberate action of a man suppressing all knowledge of the
existence of his own nephew, in order that he might himself obtain
the property of his dead brother.
"I have no doubt that, had it been known that I was in existence,
I should still have been thrust aside in order to reward his
adhesion to the cause of William, but that would have made his
position intolerable. As one who has changed his religion and his
politics, he is regarded as a traitor by the people of the barony,
and avoided by all the gentry round; but the feeling would have
been infinitely stronger, if it had been known that he was keeping
his own nephew out of his inheritance. My father was, as I
understand, immensely popular, and I doubt whether his brother
would have dared to show his face within fifty miles of Kilkargan,
had it been known that not only was he a traitor, but a usurper."
The lord lieutenant smiled.
"I am not surprised at your warmth, Mr. O'Carroll; but,
unfortunately, your case is not a solitary one. There are
thousands of men in Ireland who have suffered for the deeds of
their fathers. However, I shall understand the case better when I
have read your statement."
It was evident to Gerald that the lord chief justice, who had
taken a leading part in the prosecution and punishment of persons
known to be favourable to the Jacobite cause, was not altogether
pleased with Lord Godolphin's letter.
"A strange affair," he said. "A strange and, as it appears to me,
an unfortunate business.
"However, sir," he went on, with a changed tone; "I shall
certainly do my best to see justice done, in accordance with his
lordship's request. I will read carefully through this statement
of your claim, and, after considering it, place it in the hands of
the crown lawyers.
"But it seems to me that your own position here is a strange one,
and that you yourself are liable to arrest, as a member of a
family whose head was one of the late king's strongest adherents."
"My own position, sir, is regulated by this document, bearing the
signature of the queen and her chief minister;" and he laid the
official paper before Cox.
"That certainly settles that question," the latter said, after
perusing it. "Of course I shall, for my own satisfaction, read
your statement; but I do not wish to see any documents or proofs
you may possess in the matter. These you must, of course, lay
before your counsel. I think I can't do better than give you a
letter to Mr. Counsellor Fergusson, with whom you can go into all
particulars, and who will advise you as to the course that you had
best take."
Mr. Fergusson, although one of the crown lawyers, enjoyed a wide
reputation, even among the Jacobite party, for the moderation and
the fairness with which he conducted the crown cases placed in his
hands. He had less employment than his colleagues, for only cases
in which the evidence of acts of hostility to the crown were
indisputable were committed to him, it having been found that he
was unwilling to be a party to calling doubtful witnesses, or to
using the means that were, in the majority of cases, employed to
obtain convictions.
The lord chief justice's letter to him was as follows:
Dear Mr. Counsellor Fergusson:
I have been requested, by Lord Godolphin, to place the case of the
bearer of this letter in good hands, and cannot better carry out
his request than by asking you to act in the matter. Lord
Godolphin has expressed himself most strongly as to the justness
of his claim. The bearer's father was, he states, James O'Carroll,
a noted rebel who was killed at the siege of Limerick. This alone
would, it might have been thought, have proved a bar to any action
on his part against the present possessor of the property; but he
is the bearer of a document, signed by the queen herself,
reinstating him in all rights he may possess, notwithstanding the
actions of his father or of himself. It is not for me to make any
comment upon the royal document, though I may say that I fear it
may give rise to other suits, and alarm many loyal subjects who
have become possessed of confiscated estates. However, we must
hope that this will not be so, as it is expressly stated that, in
this instance, the pardon and restoration of rights are given in
consideration of services rendered by this young gentleman to Lord
Godolphin himself, and to the Earl of Galway. What the nature of
these services may have been does not concern me.
Gerald carried this letter to the address indicated, and on saying
that he was the bearer of a letter from the lord chief justice, he
was at once shown into the counsellor's room. The latter, a man of
some fifty-five years old, with features that told of his Scottish
extraction, with keen eyes and a kindly face, took the letter
which Gerald presented to him, and begged him to be seated while
he read it. As he glanced through it, a look of surprise came
across his face, and he read the letter carefully, and then looked
at Gerald keenly.
"You are fortunate in having such good friends, Mr. O'Carroll," he
said. "Before I go into the case, will you let me know something
about yourself? You are, I take it, some twenty years of age?"
"I am but a few months past nineteen."
"By your figure, I should have put you as three years older; by
your face, two years. You must have been fortunate, indeed, to
have gained the protection both of Lord Godolphin and the Earl of
Galway. No less than this would have sufficed to gain for you this
rescript of Her Majesty.
"And now, sir, please to give me an outline of your case, as to
the nature of which I am, at present, entirely ignorant."
"I have put it down in writing, sir," Gerald said, handing him the
third copy of his statement.
"It will take me some time to read this, Mr. O'Carroll, and I
would rather do so alone, and ask you any question that may occur
to me afterwards. Will you therefore call upon me again, in an
hour's time?"
Upon Gerald's return, the counsellor said:
"It is a strange story, Mr. O'Carroll, and a very disgraceful one.
You allude, I see, to testimonies of Irish officers in the French
service as to your likeness to the late Mr. James O'Carroll. Will
you please let me see them?"
"Here they are, sir, together with a sworn statement by my nurse."
The lawyer read the documents through carefully.
"The testimony of the Duke of Berwick, and of the other honourable
and well-known Irish gentlemen, as to the striking likeness
between yourself and Mr. James O'Carroll, cannot but carry immense
weight in the minds of all unprejudiced persons. They prove too,
conclusively, that James O'Carroll left an infant boy behind him,
and the statement of the nurse goes a long way to prove you are
that son; and I think that this is substantiated by the conduct of
John O'Carroll; first in receiving you and undertaking your care;
secondly, in the neglect, and I should almost say the dislike, he
manifested towards the child he had sheltered; and thirdly, in the
extraordinary step that he, a professedly loyal subject of Her
Majesty, took in sending you off to enlist in the brigade composed
of the devoted adherents of the son of James the Second.
"No doubt, at any rate, can arise that you are the child brought
by this Mrs. Rooney to Kilkargan. That can be proved beyond all
question; and the fact that your nurse was sent off without having
any conversation save with John O'Carroll himself, would show how
anxious he was that no one but himself should know her errand.
"I must say that you have shown great acumen in mustering
evidence, of all kinds, that would bear upon the question. I say
frankly that, without this royal rescript, and the influence of
these two noblemen, your chance, as James O'Carroll's son, of
wresting your patrimony from the hands of your uncle would be
small indeed. Politics have, much more than facts, to do with
decisions here; but with such powerful credentials, and with the
chief minister of England interfering on your behalf, I think that
there is no great doubt that you will secure a judgment in your
favour. When the facts are known, the feeling of the greater
portion of the population will run strongly with you, and against
this unnatural uncle of yours."
"I should be desirous, if possible, sir, of avoiding a public
trial that would bring discredit upon the name of my family, and
would, in the eyes of the supporters of the present Government,
act prejudicially to myself."
"You are quite right. How do you propose to proceed?"
"I was thinking, sir, of sending a statement to my uncle, similar
to that which I laid before you, going somewhat further into
details, and promising that, if he would surrender the property to
me and publicly acknowledge me as his nephew, giving what reason
he chose for having so long concealed his knowledge of the fact, I
would take no proceedings against him, and would do my best to
prevent any discredit falling upon him."
"That would do very well," the lawyer said, "but I should abstain
from making any allusion to the protectors you have gained. He
will learn that soon enough, and it will be well to see what his
first impulse is. Do not mention the names of the Duke of Berwick
and the others, who have testified to your likeness to your late
father. Simply say that many of his comrades have recognized your
likeness to him. It is of no use showing him all the cards we have
to play. I should not send the letter by post, but by hand. If you
like, I will despatch one of my own messengers down with it, with
instructions to bring back an answer, but not to say anything, if
questioned, as to his being in my employment."
The next morning, the messenger started by coach for Kilkargan. He
returned four days later, bearing John O'Carroll's answer. It read
as follows:
Sir:
I have received your audacious letter, and proclaim you to be an
impostor, worthy of the severest punishment for attempting to
personate a son of my late brother. However, for the sake of my
friendship for Mr. Kennedy, your father, I give you twenty-four
hours to leave the country, before laying any information against
you, both as an impostor and as a rebel who has served against the
armies of Her Majesty. I shall, however, at once apply for a writ
ordering your arrest, which will be served upon you within
twenty-four hours of your receipt of this communication. I shall
also have this woman, your pretended nurse, arrested for perjury
and conspiracy.
Gerald took this letter to the counsellor.
"That is exactly what I expected," he said, after reading it. "It
shows the man in his true colours. We shall see what he says when
he learns who are employed against him, and what protection you
have obtained. My opinion is that, before many hours have passed,
you will receive a letter in a different strain. I consider it by
no means improbable that the lord chief justice will have written
to him privately, warning him that you have received a full
pardon, and are restored to all your rights, and that you are
strongly supported by Lord Godolphin, who has written to him and
the lord lieutenant in your favour; that you have also the
protection of the Earl of Galway, an officer who possesses the
confidence of Her Majesty; and that the Duke of Berwick, and many
of the best-known Irish officers in the service of France, have
all given their testimony, in the most positive manner, of your
likeness to James O'Carroll, whom they knew intimately; and will
say that, at the request of Lord Godolphin that the matter should
be placed in the hands of one of the crown lawyers, it has been
submitted to me; and that in my opinion, which I wrote him after
our interview, a decision in your favour is inevitable; and
strongly advising him to make the best compromise with you in his
power."
The same evening, indeed, a mounted messenger, who had ridden
posthaste from Kilkargan, arrived with another letter from John
O'Carroll. It began:
My Dear Nephew:
I wrote yesterday in haste, on the receipt of your communication.
It seemed to me that you were rushing on destruction, by avowing
yourself to be the son of my brother James; and that you would be
liable to be arrested as a Jacobite agent in the service of
France. Therefore, I wrote the letter that I did in hopes that you
would leave the country, for the time had not yet arrived when you
could safely be recognized by me as the rightful owner of
Kilkargan. I have heard, however, that you have received a full
pardon for past offences, and a restitution of your rights, and I
am only too glad to be able to retire from the false position in
which I was placed, and by which I incurred the hostility and
dislike of my neighbours and tenants. As you know, I have lived an
almost solitary life here, and have spent far less than the income
of the estate. I am well aware that, acting as I have done as your
trustee, you have a right to demand from me an account of the
rents I have received; but I trust that you will not press this
matter, as you'll at once come in for the receipt of the rents;
and I shall be enabled to live in comfort, in Dublin, upon the
savings I have effected, and a small property I received as a
younger brother's portion.
You will, of course, understand why, during your stay here, I
refrained from any outward demonstrations of affection for you. I
felt that suspicions might have arisen, had I not done so, that
you were my brother's son, in which case the estate would surely
have been confiscated. Seeing that the bent of your inclinations
was for an active and stirring life, and as the English army was
barred to you, I thought it best that you should go abroad, and so
be out of the way until the time should come when matters would so
quieten down, in Ireland, that my influence might avail to secure
an indemnity for you for serving in France, and enable me to hand
over your estate to you.
Your affectionate uncle, John O'Carroll.
Gerald laughed aloud as he read the letter.
"Is it good news, your honour?" Mike, who happened to be busy in
the room, asked.
"Nothing could be better. My dear uncle has heard that Lord
Godolphin and the Earl of Galway have become my patrons, that the
queen has restored to me my rights, and Mr. Counsellor Fergusson
has taken up my case. He therefore declares that, as it was always
his intention to restore the estate to me, as soon as I could
safely return, he is now ready to do so, and only hopes that I
will not insist upon his handing over the back rents; which,
indeed, I question whether I could do, as the estate was granted
to him, personally, by the Government.
"However, of course I shall not press that. I shall be only too
glad to obtain possession without the scandal of having to show,
in the public courts, that my father's brother was a villain."
"The ould fox!" Mike exclaimed indignantly. "I felt sure, when you
told me what the counsellor had said, that he would wriggle out of
it somehow. I would give all the gold pieces I have in my belt for
half an hour's talk with him, with a good shillelah!"
"Well, we can afford to let bygones be bygones, Mike. And after
all, he did me a service, unwittingly, in sending me over to
France. In the first place, I had three years of stirring life; in
the next, I have made many good friends, and have gained the
patronage of two powerful noblemen, without which I should have
assuredly never come in for Kilkargan at all."
"That is true for you, your honour. And without it, I might be
still a private in O'Brien's regiment, instead of being your
honour's body servant."
"And friend, Mike."
"Yes, sir, as you are good enough to say so."
Mr. Fergusson put John O'Carroll's letter down, with a gesture of
disgust, after he had read it.
"It is what might have been expected from such a man," he said. "A
traitor to the cause he once adhered to, false to his religion,
and a usurper of his nephew's rights.
"At any rate, Mr. O'Carroll, I congratulate you. It has prevented
a grievous scandal from being made public, and the large
expenditure entailed by such a case. You have now only to go down
and take possession."
"I shall write to my uncle, and give him a week to clear out, and
to make what explanation he chooses of the change."
Gerald wrote at once to his uncle. It was coldly worded, and
showed unmistakably that he was, in no way, deceived by the
professions in his letter. He told him that he considered it fair
that he should retain the savings he had made, as he had
personally been confirmed in the ownership of Kilkargan, the
Government being ignorant that his brother had left a son. He said
that he thought it would be more pleasant, for both of them, that
they should not meet, and wished, therefore, that he would leave,
before his arrival to take possession.
John O'Carroll at once summoned the tenants, and astonished them
by informing them that, he was glad to say, he was free at last to
lay down the position he had held as owner of Kilkargan. That his
brother James had left a son, whom they all knew as Desmond
Kennedy, but whom he had been obliged to treat with coldness, lest
suspicions should be excited as to his identity. Had this been
known, he would assuredly have been proscribed as the son of a
rebel, and debarred by law from any inheritance. He was delighted
to say that the time had come when he could publicly acknowledge
him, and place him in possession of the estate, as Her Majesty had
granted him a special indemnity against the pains and penalties
incurred by his father's act of rebellion and treason, and had
restored to him his full rights.
A burst of cheering, such as had not been heard in Kilkargan since
James O'Carroll rode out, at the head of a troop raised among his
tenantry, to fight for King James, greeted the announcement; and,
for the first time since that event, John O'Carroll was, for the
moment, popular. Subsequent reflection, and their knowledge of his
character, soon dissipated that feeling; but in their joy at the
announced approaching arrival of their new master, John O'Carroll
rode away, with his followers, without the manifestation of
hostility that would otherwise have attended his departure.
Bonfires blazed all over the barony when Gerald rode in,
accompanied by Mike. The tenants, and a number of the gentry who
had known him when a boy, assembled at the castle to meet him; and
even his father could not have met with a more enthusiastic
welcome than that which was given him.
The next day, Gerald wrote to the Duke of Berwick, telling him
what had taken place, and resigning his commission in the Irish
Brigade.
"I intend," he said, "to abstain from all part in politics.
Although no condition was made, in my pardon for serving abroad
and in the restoration of my estate, I feel that, having accepted
these favours, I must hold myself aloof from all plots against
Queen Anne, though my heart will still be with him whom I hold to
be my lawful sovereign. Unless a large army from France was landed
here, I believe that any attempt at his restoration would only
bring down fresh misery upon Ireland. But, should a force land
that would render success almost a certainty, I should then, with
the great bulk of my countrymen, join it."
In due time he received an answer, approving the course he had
taken.
"I myself," the Duke said, "am under no delusions. With the ten
regiments of the Irish Brigade, twenty thousand French troops, and
arms sufficient to distribute to the whole country, I believe that
Ireland and Scotland might again come under the rule of the
Stuarts; but nothing short of such a force would be of any avail.
So convinced was I of this that, in 1691, after the successful
defence of Limerick, I saw that the cause was for the time lost,
and that further resistance would only prove disastrous to
Ireland. I therefore resigned my command, and went over to France
to serve as a volunteer, and took no part in the war at home.
Therefore, I think that you are fully justified in the course you
have taken. When the present war, which I think is approaching its
end, terminates, and you can again visit France, I trust that I
shall see you; and I am sure that you will receive the heartiest
of welcomes from your comrades in the Brigade."
Gerald followed out strictly the line he had laid down for
himself, and kept aloof from the plots and conspiracies that, for
years, agitated the country, entailing disaster upon all concerned
in them. Mike was installed as his body servant, and majordomo of
his household; and Norah Rooney as housekeeper at the castle.
Three years later, in 1713, the treaty of Utrecht brought the war
to an end. Communications being restored between the two
countries, Gerald wrote to the Baron de Pointdexter, and told him
of the changes which had taken place in his position. He received
a warm letter in reply, urging him to go over and pay him and his
son-in-law a visit.
But Gerald had had enough of travelling, and wrote to say that he
could not leave his estate, as there was much to look after.
Letters were, however, frequently exchanged between them, and
when, three years later, Gerald married the daughter of the Mr.
Kennedy he had visited near Cork, a present of a superb set of
jewels, the joint gift of the baron and Monsieur de la Vallee,
arrived for the bride.
After the conclusion of the peace, some of the Irish regiments
were disbanded, and as the British Government, wiser than before,
offered a free pardon to all men and officers who would return,
many availed themselves of it; and among these was O'Neil, who
delighted Gerald by riding up, one day, to the castle.
"You did not expect to see me again, Kennedy; or, as I hear we
ought to call you, O'Carroll. Not knowing where I should find you,
I took the liberty of writing to Baron de Pointdexter, and he
informed me of your good luck, and your change of name."
"And you have left the French service altogether, O'Neill?"
"Yes, and glad enough I am that I shall be able to end my days at
home."
"And what are you thinking of doing?"
"Anything I can get."
"Well, O'Neil, I have some interest with the lord lieutenant. As I
am no longer regarded as one likely to join in plots, I think
that, were I to ride with you to Dublin after you have been here
for a time; and speak to him for you, as one who had seen the
errors of his ways, and was anxious to live peacefully, he would
procure you some appointment."
O'Neil stayed there for three weeks, and they then rode to Dublin.
The lord lieutenant granted Gerald's request, and gave O'Neil an
appointment which would enable him to live in comfort; knowing
that there is nothing, for keeping a man peaceable, like giving
him something to do; and that an idle man is a dangerous man,
while one who has a comfortable position can be trusted to hold
himself aloof from any business that might imperil his place.
O'Neil thoroughly justified Gerald's recommendation of him, and, a
couple of years after his return, married a young and well-endowed
widow; and, to the end of his life, abstained carefully from
mixing himself up, in any way, in politics.
Gerald saw the failure of Prince Charlie's expedition to Scotland;
and the terrible disasters, that befell all who had taken part in
the movement, showed him the wisdom of the course he had
adopted--of standing aloof from all intrigues in favour of the
descendants of James the Second.
THE END.