My Lords of Strogue. Volume 1 of 3

CHAPTER VII.

TRINITY

Mr. Curran took the bait tendered to him by the chancellor. He made inquiries, sorted the fragments of his puzzle after his own fashion, and, filled with suspicions, became anxious to unveil without delay the fresh dangers which menaced his friends. And dangers so easy to unveil! The fowler cared not, it seemed, to mask his engines of destruction. Mr. Curran, from his place in the senate, publicly warned ministers of the iniquity of their proceedings, but nobody troubled to listen. The friends of government gaped, vowing that the orator was a maniac, that he had the secret society on the brain, and ought to be carted to the madhouse; the few who were on the other side laughed, declaring that Mr. Curran was misinformed. What could he do then but sigh and hold his peace? At least he would speak to the Emmetts and adjure them to be cautious, for the sake of all concerned.

When Tone's society for the promotion of universal concord was driven by artful goading to become a secret one, the conspirators met to discuss their grievances in a cellar in Backlane, near the corn-market; but when the time came for extinguishing Tone and others, Sirr, the captain of Lord Clare's sbirri, swept them thence, and they were forced to find another trysting-place. Pending final decision on this point, it was arranged as a miracle of cleverness that the younger Emmett should suddenly become hospitable. Trinity was always celebrated for its rollicking wine-parties. What more natural than that young Robert should do as others did; that he, hitherto so studious, should be led astray a little by the contagious force of bad example? A good cellaret of claret was provided at the common expense; songs were sung with open windows, at all hours of the day and night, of a convivial and bacchanalian character. There was no end to the shifts to which the patriots resorted, under the belief that they were hoodwinking Major Sirr. There arose a mania for ball-playing. Clerks, shopkeepers, attorneys, would meet of an afternoon at a hall taken for the purpose, and emerge thence in an hour or two singularly cool and fresh for men who had been practising athletics. There was also a rage for fencing-a plausible excuse enough for meeting in numbers, considering that the fire-eaters of the south had just revised the laws of the duello. The youthful aristocracy, in accordance with one of the new rules, had already formed themselves into a club, called the Knights of Tara, whose members met three times a week in the theatre at Capel Street to display their prowess with the rapier before an audience of Dublin belles. What then should there be suspicious if the middle class followed their example?

The case was not quite the same, though; for while the Knights of Tara courted observation and loved to be seen lounging in cambric shirts and broidered slippers, with their hair in curl-papers, the members of the other fencing club kept rigorously closed doors, through which no one ever heard the familiar cry, sharp as a pistol-crack, of 'Ha! a hit!'

One evening, shortly after Tone's departure, there was a full gathering in the chambers on the second floor which looked on the grand quadrangle. It was necessary to instal with solemn rites a new chief in place of the wanderer, and to fix on a distinct plan of operations for enlarging the limits of the society. Tone had left his mantle to Thomas Addis Emmett as the oldest and wisest of the band-he was thirty-five-and so, in obedience to his last wishes, the editor of the Press was duly elected to the dangerous pre-eminence. Submitting to his brother's entreaties, he commenced his reign by administering the oath to young Robert, the dreamy lad of seventeen, which was done with awful ceremonies, as became the doings of conspirators. Blinds were drawn for a few minutes that no prying gaze might penetrate the Holy of Holies; then all sat down, with the neophyte standing in their midst, while their president read through the constitution. Then the oath was administered upon the Scriptures, which, together with the constitution, were clasped on the bared breast, and after that a lock of hair was cut away under the queue behind, and a formula learnt by heart, by means of which one member could recognise another. It was touching to look on these brothers standing side by side, the elder receiving the younger into a fraternity, each unit of which, before many months were out, might possibly be called upon to meet an ignominious death. Thomas was big and burly, with a sedate cast of countenance which betokened thought, whilst Robert was slight of build, and looked almost like a girl, as with eyes fixed on space he repeated the strange sentences, his face aglow with enthusiasm, his body trembling like a leaf.

'Are you straight?'

'I am.'

'How straight?'

'As straight as a rush.'

'Go on then?'

'In truth and trust; in unity and liberty.'

'What have you in your hand?'

'A green bough.'

'Where did it grow?'

'In America.'

'Where did it bud?'

'In France.'

'Where will you plant it?'

'In the Crown of Great Britain.'

'God be with you then, and with us all,' Thomas concluded; 'and now a glass all round to the health of the new member.'

The pledge was gravely accepted, each one raising his beaker and saying: 'To the diffusion of light!' ere he drained its contents and replaced it on the table bottom upwards.

'Now, gentlemen,' pursued Thomas. 'We have serious business before us. Theobald will be away a year at least before help can come, and it is his wish that we should without delay prepare to graft the military upon our civil functions. With arms and ammunition Tone will provide us if he can, but they will be of little service unless we know how to use them. In the halcyon days of the Volunteers every Irishman was a soldier. Let us show that the martial spirit of our ancient kings, which then for awhile revived, is not quite dead in us.'

'I will never consent to bloodshed,' shuddered young Robert. 'Internecine strife is too horrible!'

'You have been sworn in by your own desire,' returned his brother, sternly, 'and your first duty is blind obedience. It is Tone's conviction that we must fight, and fight we will when the time comes-to the death! In revolutions there is nothing certain but blood. The march of the captives is through a Red Sea. After forty years of seeking new abodes, which of those who lead them shall touch the Promised Land? Lord Clare shows us his cards, and a pretty hand it is. Sirr is organising his paid spies into a battalion who are to dwell at the Castle like pampered pets. It is hard to believe that Irishmen will be so base. These informers are to lie perdu until wanted-are to worm themselves into the confidence of suspected persons, to eat of their bread and salt, to nurse their little ones upon their knees, and then, upon a signal, to give them over to the hangman.'

'But the Viceroy!' cried Cassidy in indignation. 'Lord Camden is a man of honour who would never consent to such a plan!'

Thomas Emmett shook his head mournfully.

'We all know,' he said, 'that the cabinet rules the Viceroy, and that Lord Clare is master of the cabinet.'

'Seeing's believing,' retorted the giant doggedly, as he stretched out his great hand for the claret bottle. 'Of course we must watch that no such villain shall creep among us. I won't believe that the English are without mercy.'

'At the battle of Aughrim,' replied Thomas, 'the blood sank into the soil of seven thousand Irishmen who were only defending their rights.'

'As for drilling and such like,' said Cassidy, 'I'm with you, and the sooner we start the business the better. I've learnt a new song that we'll sing as we march to battle-'

'Oh, you simpleton!' laughed Terence Crosbie, who, slightly touched with wine, had followed the proceedings of the two Emmetts with amusement. 'Romancing as usual-giving credence to every scandalous tale you hear. Even if there were truth in them, your grievances would not give birth to generals. You will never make colonels out of linendrapers.'

'No more than purses out of sows' ears,' returned Cassidy, with a merry twinkle. 'No, councillor, that we never will. But we'll wheedle a few aristocrats like your honour, whose blue blood shall mingle with our muddy stuff. When the day dawns, you and a few like yourself shall lead the boys to victory.'

Terence looked annoyed, but said nothing; while Cassidy and the others scanned his face narrowly. He was not affiliated to the society, nor had the remotest ambition of becoming so; for he knew that it behoved not one of his order to join in such movements as this. Yet there was a fascination for him in its doings, which kept him dangling upon its outskirts. Some of his most valued friends were enrolled on the list of United Irishmen, and he knew well how Doreen was praying for their success. So he attended the supper-parties sometimes in his purposeless way, and they permitted him to do so freely, despite the maxim that in troublous times half-friends are no friends. They knew, or thought they knew, that he was the soul of honour, who would never betray a confidence; and hoped, encouraged by Cassidy, that some day he might be cajoled or stung into their ranks, which would be a feather in their cap indeed; for to be led by a Crosbie of Ennishowen would give them a prestige at once such as in these democratic days we can hardly realise. And Terence, seeing through the simple scheme (for he was sharp enough, though lazy), was flattered by their confidence. Yet for all that he promised himself to hold aloof from active co-operation with hot-pated friends who made mountains out of mole-hills. He had no intention of heading the forlorn hope of a misguided rabblement who would fly helter-skelter before the first puff of cannon smoke. So he prudently refrained from picking up the gauntlet, and listened to the giant, who was delivered of an idea.

'I've a notion!' cried Cassidy, thumping the table till the glasses rang again.

'Be cool now!' cautioned Tom Emmett. 'You are as dangerous as a powder-magazine.'

'Is it dangerous I am?' grumbled the other. 'Sure something must be risked, or we'll niver get along. I've an idaya, gintlemen, which I'm willing to see to at my own expense, though a poor man. I've reason to know that the militia may be tampered with. Their hearts are with the cause, and they're as poor as rats or your humble servant. Money and drink will do much, and women will settle the matter. Here's a letter from Belfast which says that two hundred and fifty of the men in camp there have secretly declared for us, and that it only needs the personal presence of a delegate to bring over half the rest. When the French land they'll rise and kill their officers. Think of the fine fright that'll give the royalists! Sure and isn't that the way to out-plot England? Shall I go to Belfast and reconnoitre? Of coorse ye must give me credentials. A little note, signed, will do the trick, and show I'm honest. As for the town-major of whom ye're all so frightened, his bark's worse nor his bite. The Irish Jonathan Wild can be bribed. I'll answer for him; but there's time galore for that. Dangerous, am I? I'm the only one, I think, with a drain of sperit. There's a great speech. Phew, I'm dhry! Hand round the clart, boys, and we'll have a stave.'

The simple giant's harangue was favourably received, the paper was penned and signed, and he was wetting his whistle for a song when Tom Emmett raised his hand.

'Hark! who comes?'

There was a footstep on the creaking stair; then a knock; and a familiar voice said: 'It is I. Curran.'

'Nurse Curran!' sneered Cassidy, annoyed. 'Come to look after his foster-babby.'

The little advocate entered, and leaned against the door with his arms folded.

'Terence, my lad,' he said. 'You must come away with me. What would my lady say, if you came to be arrested?'

'Arrested!' echoed a dozen voices. 'Within Trinity? Impossible!'

'I fail to see that it's impossible,' snarled Curran. 'Hide those foolish papers there, or burn them-children, too easily beguiled with toys! And you, Terence, come away with me at once. Why? Are not convenient edicts being passed each day to simplify the work of government? Laws for the suppression of gaming, profane swearing, atheistical assemblies, which places every man's home under surveillance of the town-major?'

'You have explicit information?' inquired Tom Emmett, anxiously.

'I don't say that!' stammered Curran, somewhat confused. 'I only say that your threshold might be invaded at any moment, and that ye've yourselves to thank if ye get into a hopeless scrape. A few hours since, a carpenter who is under obligation to me was at work in Ely Place. While repairing the floor between two double doors he distinctly heard Lord Clare in conversation with the town-major, in which Sirr told his chief that there would be a strong muster to-night in this boy's chambers. Am I making too free in asking you to lock away those documents, or would ye prefer hanging at once to save trouble? The carpenter wrenched off a hinge and begged to be allowed to fetch a new one; but instead of going straight to the ironmonger's he ran to me with commendable speed, gave the office, and returned to his work. What it all means I am not in a position to say; but mark my words, you have a traitor in your midst, who reports to the enemy every word you utter. Your necks are your own, to do with as you like; but I'm responsible for you, Terence, to your mother, and I summon you to go away with me.'

Tom Emmett flushed scarlet, and involuntarily placed a hand upon the pistol in his breast. A low murmur went round the room as Cassidy sprang to his feet.

'Take care!' he shouted, 'how ye bring vague charges. Many a disfigured corpse has Moiley eaten-many an informer has floated out to sea. Give a name-only a name-and I'll scrunch the spalpeen so flat that ye'll not know him from a sheet of paper, save for the coat on him!'

Curran shrugged his shoulders.

'Do you think if I knew the scoundrel I'd not have pointed at him long ago? It's for you to find him out. Don't glare at me, man-I'm not a youngster who has never blazed. Mind, I've warned you to be circumspect. The Irish nature is too open. It can't keep a secret without telling a lie, and lies lead to awful tangles. It's no affair of mine. Terence, come along.'

The junior rose and stretched himself, and prepared to follow his chief.

A betrayer in their midst! The case did seem hopeless to the young councillor; so hopeless as to be almost contemptible. Possibly Lord Clare was a trifle over-strict with them, but he certainly appeared justified to a certain extent in assuming with the children the manner of a severe pedagogue. What a pity that they persisted in fathering every enormity upon him!

'It's a bad job, my friends,' he said. 'Curran's right about the papers. Good-night.'

As they crossed the quadrangle his mentor became wondrous voluble. He was garrulous as to my lady, and her unfortunate penchant for the chancellor; talked of Glandore, and all the titled in the land, till his companion eyed him in indolent surprise. To occupy his attention was the design of his mentor, for lurking in the shadow of doorways were certain darkling figures who were not gownsmen; and the little king's counsel feared lest Terence, if he perceived danger to be imminent, should be ill-judged enough to retrace his steps and get mixed up in the misfortunes of his friends.

The spectres allowed the pair to pass, and then, gliding to the door from which they had issued, left half their number there, whilst the rest stole through the gateway to the inner court-so as to command two special windows which were pointed out to them.

Meanwhile the party above, having completed the business of the evening, prepared itself to be jolly. The story of the proposed arrest, the vague charge about an informer, were evidently Bugaboos invented by nurse Curran for the luring away of his junior.

Cassidy, who was in great spirits to-night, and had drank deeply, demonstrated with the utmost clearness that the fabrication was absurd. By an old law of Queen Elizabeth (the only pleasant law she ever made for Ireland), no bumbailiff or importunate creditor might set his foot within the College-gates. Alma Mater was a sanctuary from which none might be taken an any account without an order from the authorities of Trinity, who were too jealous of their rights ever to grant such order. Moreover, the watch (harmless old women!) were always friends with the gownsmen-ready to lend a staff or lanthorn, or feign sleep or assume deafness, just as the frolicsome young gentlemen should decree. It was quite unlikely that they would witness any threatening demonstration without instantly giving an alarm, and even Sirr would think twice before daring an assault upon the inmates of Trinity without the assistance of the junior dean. Not that the undergraduates were as bold a body now as when they slew my Lord Glandore, or so unanimous either, as none knew better than Lord Clare. Yet they were no cowards, and always ready for a 'blaze.'

The younger Emmett, alarmed at first by Curran's dismal prophecies, was convinced by Cassidy's gibes that his terrors were ill-placed, and set about producing from mysterious lurking-places the elements of a good supper-ham, chickens, bread-furtively glancing in the mirror now and then at the tiny tonsure which marked him for a patriot. The giant arranged knives and forks, and filled the round-bottomed claret decanters, trimming the table with a tasty eye as a patriotic table should be laid. In the centre he placed the constitution-bulwark of the society-throned on a loaf of bread. Close to it the president's badge, whilom Tone's-Tom Emmett's bauble now which consisted of a shamrock in green silk bearing a harp without a crown. Near this the copy of the Scriptures; and by his own place a list of toasts such as should help to pass the time till chapel-hour. When all was ready he called on his companions to fall to; and discussed with the president, while the viands disappeared, the details of his journey to Belfast.

As they talked the claret waned, and the views of the company grew rosier. Thomas agreed that it would be a wise system to spread disaffection among the soldiery. The patriotism of the militia might surely be counted on, he thought. With the yeomanry it might be otherwise, as it was officered by the upper class. Deliberation and prudence must be the watchwords of the giant at Belfast, for months must pass before Tone could hope to accomplish anything; and all were of one mind as to the necessity of French assistance. At the earliest, no French fleet could be expected till the summer of '96, therefore it behoved the leaders of the cause to keep the broth gently simmering till the moment of the crisis-organising battalions, drilling companies during the night, establishing a vast military system which should enable the four provinces to effect a simultaneous rising. That was the important point, spontaneity of movement; and he, Emmett, would make it his business to see that the unity of action should be complete.

The danger was (he impressed on Cassidy) lest the wickedness of England should exasperate the people too soon. A given degree of cruelty will drive the wisest mad. Patience is among the greatest of virtues. Here was another thing, which it was all-important to consider. Terence Crosbie had put his finger on one of their weakest points-their lack of military genius. The best army in Christendom is powerless without a general. What a pity that Tone should be gone away, for the germ was visible in him which would have blossomed forth into glorious fruition under the sun of opportunity!

'Now!' Cassidy cried, after a while, remarking that some of the delegates were beginning to snore, 'fill your glasses, and I'll sing ye the new song which shall sound the knell of the Sassanagh. 'Tis written by Barry, a mere gossoon, who's in Kilmainham at this minute. Bad cess to the ruffians as put him there!' Then, draining off a bumper, he loosened the voluminous folds of his cravat, and commenced in his mellow voice, while those who were sober enough yelled the refrain:

'"What rights the brave? The sword!What frees the slave? The sword!What cleaves in twain the despot's chain, and makes his gyvesand dungeons vain? The sword!Then cease the proud task never! while rests a link to sever.Guard of the free, well cherish thee, and keep thee bright for ever!"'

So loudly was 'The Sword' trolled forth, that more peaceful neighbours, worn out with study, turned uneasily in bed, cursing the rackety crew ere they slept again; so loudly was the final chorus shrieked, that none heard the tramp of footsteps on the stairs, none heeded the groping of unaccustomed fingers upon the handle, till the door was flung open, displaying a body of men upon the landing whose crossbelts showed white through a disguise. The young men stared bewildered as on some horrid vision, and strove to get up on their feet. Thomas, more sober than the rest, laid his hand upon his pistol, but withdrew it again, seeing how numerous were those who stood without.

'What do you want?' he asked.

A short man stepped from behind the rest. He was remarkable for a hooked beak, eyes too close together, shaded by heavy brows which met in a tuft over his nose. He wore a tight stock with a large silver buckle, hair plainly clubbed, and a silver whistle like a boatswain's attached to a buttonhole by a thong.

'I am Major Sirr,' he snapped, 'and arrest all present in the King's name. Seize those documents!'

Cassidy took a paper from his flapped pocket and tried to swallow it, but the major's men, marking his clumsy movement, pressed his bull-throat till he gave it forth again. How arbitrary is the effect of drink! Some men it renders furious, endowing them with double strength; others it makes dull and stupid, robbing them of the power that they had. Cassidy's giant bulk and tremendous muscles should have stood him in good stead now or never; but he certainly had imbibed a portentous quantity of claret, and the shaking he was getting seemed quite to muddle him.

'Ah now, major dear,' he whimpered, smiling a sickly smile, 'you'd not take it from me and shame a poor colleen? Don't look at her name now! Bad luck to ye! Don't, now!'

''Tis an order signed by the committee of the United Irishmen-no lady's billet,' Major Sirr replied coldly, holding the paper to the candle. 'My friend, I regret to see you in this plight-but I must do my duty.'

Robert, on the first entrance of Sirr's lambs-for such he knew them at once to be, though robed in long gowns-made a rush to the window of the inner room in order to alarm the college, but speedily drew in his head again, for a row of muskets was pointed at him which glinted, pallid, in the light of early dawn.

'Trapped!' he exclaimed, wringing his hands in despair. 'No, not yet!' Then, perceiving that Sirr and his band, expecting no resistance, were busily engaged gleaning together badge, constitution, and list of treasonable toasts, he stole to the discomfited giant-a hero but a moment since-and whispered rapidly, 'Come! A dash at the door, and we can get downstairs. I'll lead you to the campanile. One ring at the bell, and the college will awake!'

Cassidy shook himself and appeared to understand. Flinging aside the two men who loosely held him, he butted forward, upsetting table and lights, and in the confusion and darkness all who barred the passage. Swiftly he rolled, rather than ran, down the steep staircase, closely followed by Robert, and sent sprawling in the doorway a fat old person, who yelped piteously for mercy.

'The junior dean!' ejaculated Robert. 'The dastard! Himself to betray our ancient rights! But come-we'll attend to him later-to the campanile, to rouse the college!'

Sirr's lambs, recovering from their surprise, pursued the fugitives; but a little time was gained by their all tumbling in a heap over the unhappy dean, before he had time to scramble out of the way.

'O Lord! O Lord! I'm kilt! Follow them!' he panted; 'the campanile's at the corner of the inner yard. If they ring the bell for a rescue, I'm a dead man, for they'll surely murder me! Oh that I had never mixed in this hellish business!'

His lamentations died away in a groan, for Sirr held a pistol to his head, calling the skies to witness that he would shoot him unless he instantly led the way. Never since he was a child did the pursy old gentleman run as fast as he did now. Terror gave wings to his gouty feet, and the invading party reached the campanile to see Cassidy's burly shoulder force in the door, and Robert Emmett precipitate himself within. It was a race who should first reach the platform.