My Lords of Strogue. Volume 3 of 3

The young enthusiast's guileless arrangements for driving the Englishry into the sea were ridiculous, no doubt. He kept the details of them to himself, never telling those who loved him of them. As they were not in the habit of looking through keyholes, they knew not that he was working in earnest; that he had determined in his own mind, should the union pass, to make the first shaking out of the united flag upon the Castle his signal for attack; when a handful of scatter-brains, as unpractical as himself, should storm the Castle, kill the Viceroy, proclaim Ireland free, and the Act of Union a valueless piece of dirty parchment. Jack Cade's rabblement was no whit more laughable an assemblage than the army which Robert proposed to lead to victory. The authorities consulted as to what should be done with him, and decided that it would be safer to allow him to stir up a little dust in the metropolis than to drive him into the provinces, where he really might give serious trouble. It would be better to let the affair come to a head at once, while the English militia and my Lord Cornwallis were still at hand. It was fortunate for Government that Robert kept his secret so well; for if his friends had been aware of his guileless plots, they would have applied at once to the Viceroy, who would have had no alternative but to lock up the firebrand and allow the coals to smoulder. Not even to Sara did he speak openly; though he certainly did let out vague hints which frightened the damsel not a little; not even to Terence did he speak at all-to Terence, who remained quietly in seclusion at the Abbey for months after the vessel sailed, wondering if he was forgotten, or whether he was set apart to head a second convoy.

As for Doreen, so soon as her amazement had abated (which resulted from the eavesdropping), it gave place to a feeling of uneasiness. Her aunt had spoken of the disposal of her hand as a matter of convenience, for the benefit of Shane; and she now deciphered all the riddle which had seemed so crabbed and contradictory. With apprehension she awaited a change in the young lord's demeanour, expected him to play the lover, and be miserable, as orthodox suitors are. He was undoubtedly most miserable, but he made no attempt to play the lover. Although she knew it not, her own manner was the maiden's safeguard. Cousin Shane, who had always been repelled by her cold ways, felt that he might as well try to make love to a dead body as to this full-blooded girl, who, like Terence, announced that her life was done. Have we not read somewhere of a certain prince who espoused an ice-maiden for the sake of her dowry? She clasped him in her arms, and froze him slowly. Just such a bride would Miss Wolfe be to Shane. And yet he saw that his mother was right. If Terence were somehow to learn the secret, and to claim his own, what would become of his illegitimate brother? His mother was right, as she always was. Lord Kilwarden's nest-egg would keep the wolf from the door. What a pity it could not be his without the burthen of the accompanying ice-maiden! As he looked round he decided reluctantly that there was no other rock to make for; that he must force his inclinations, give up Norah, possess himself of Doreen; but the sight of her dreary face and listless demeanour was always enough to put to rout his most firm resolve-the while he cursed himself for his repulsion. My lady's ghost was his companion now as well as hers. It communed with him in the night; it whispered to him by day. The countess perceived the leaven of fear working within him, and her burthen became, if possible, more heavy on her back. Irresistible impulse had impelled her to confess. An indistinct dread of open rupture between the brothers had forced her to give Shane a reason for more considerate behaviour towards Terence. But the shot, she found, had entirely missed its mark. Shane was not a good man; he was gross, brutal, and endowed with none of the attributes of the serpent. He was not like Cassidy, for instance. If he hated a person, all the world might know it. By virtue of his bringing-up as Chief of Blasters and King of Cherokees, he was terribly handy with rapier and pistol; could send his closest friend to Hades without compunction; but then it must be done according to the rules set down by the Knights of Tara, and in open battle, with paces marked out and seconds looking on. Like many selfish men, he could be good-natured so long as affability was cheap. But how grievously had my lady been mistaken in supposing that fear would induce civility to Terence, in proportion to the wrong that he was doing him. On the contrary, by the light of my lady's confession, he saw Terence from such an aspect, that his hitherto colourless dislike was turned, at once to fiercest hate. Terence was his junior-one, too, who had brought himself, by his own acts, to shipwreck, and had done much besides to spoil his elder's prospects. And this fellow-six years younger than himself-was to take the bread out of his mouth, because, forsooth, their father and mother had postponed the mouthing of a few words!

From Shane's point of view it was monstrously unjust. By right of father and of mother he was Lord Glandore. He could not-would not-be commonly civil to this fellow, who might, some of these days, eject him from all that made life pleasant. Vainly his unhappy mother argued. The case, he persisted, stood thus, and no otherwise. She could not alter what was done, if she talked till Doomsday. Vainly she vowed that the secret lay between him and her and Mrs. Gillin. He must not be rude to Mrs. Gillin, or jilt her daughter, all at once. That amourette must be allowed to dwindle by slow degrees, till it should fade out from sheer lack of sustenance. Meanwhile he must make up to Doreen and be civil to Terence, trusting that events would shape themselves rightly after all. If the worst came to the worst, his mother would speak solemnly to Terence, reminding him of the oath he made by his father's death-bed that he would be loyal to the elder-born, and adjure him not to stain his soul by perjury. At mention of that circumstance Shane pished and pshawed, for at best it was an oath wrung wrongfully from a little lad; and he felt with dismay that if she was inclined to cling to such broken reeds as that, her hopes could not be so rosy as she pretended. Sometimes, in despair, he determined to throw up the game; to seek better fortune in some foreign service; to offer his sword and courage to Austria or Prussia; then, in reckless mood, he would veer round, swearing that he would hold by his coronet till it was torn out of his grasp; that the grave would be preferable to disgrace and beggary. This mood assumed after a while the upper hand; and under its influence he did things which capped his earlier fame as King of Cherokees, and bade fair to land him in a madhouse.

He gave way more and more to drink. His conduct became daily less trammelled by accepted rules. He took up a passion for hunting in the night. To his dogs, who followed their noses, it was all one whether they tracked their prey by rays of sun or moon. To carry out my Lord Glandore's conceit, however, it was necessary to provide flambeaux. A number of servants, well mounted, led the way with torches over drain and wall, and the shuddering cottiers, startled from sleep by a nocturnal 'Tallyho!' turned round again to resume their broken rest, muttering that it was not hell let loose, only mad Glandore.

Perhaps his uncertain future urged him to break his neck like a gentleman; perhaps he only sought in oddity a refuge from his muddled thoughts. At any rate, he soon became the talk of Dublin, and his mother grew daily more haggard and more wan.

Among the men whom Shane met every day in the capital was Mr. Cassidy, who, by dint of haymaking during the brief time when the sun shone, had materially improved his position in life. Hand and glove with Major Sirr, who watched young Robert like a lynx, and whose private duties on behalf of union were no less important than they had been in preceding years, he managed to stuff his nest with comfortable wadding, manufactured chiefly from bank-notes. He took care that Government should know that but for him Tone would have escaped, and Terence possibly, and many others. He cultivated the powerful, bullied the timid, flattered the vain, duped the credulous, amused the convivial. He received a handsome pension (as depository of awkward secrets), which raised him for ever above the rank of a half-mounted to that of a gentleman to the backbone; received splendid presents from suspected persons who quaked before a vision of Fort George; laid money by; was altogether a prosperous individual, with a band of spies under his own orders-the flower and pride of the Staghouse garden. And prosperity sat well upon his jolly features. Impunity gave him aplomb. His clothes were handsome, his entertainments festive. He could sing a song or crack a bottle against any man alive. He was not puffed up by success. It was but natural that he should be elected by acclamation a Cherokee; a Blaster; that he should be welcomed among the set of drunken, swearing, fighting daredevils by Shane, their leader, who had always been his patron. The influence of so merry a blade was sure to become great amongst the rackety M.P.'s, who would shortly be called upon to vote. Promises of great things to come were freely made by the chancellor and his colleague Castlereagh, if those who inclined to backsliding were well kept to the sticking-point.

Now a very brilliant idea burst at the right moment from the brain of Mr. Cassidy-an idea which showed that he understood the foibles of his countrymen, and well knew how best to play on them. Watchful Europe decided some time before that the Irish senate was hopelessly disgraced, and branded its members with a verdict of moral cowardice. They could not with truth deny the soft impeachment, yet they attempted to justify themselves by showing that physically at least they were no cowards. Shane was but one example out of many. 'Fighting Fitzgerald' was even more wild than he. The palm of perfect Cherokeeism was awarded to Lord Glandore in some measure from consideration of his rank. The Lords and Commons made up for the moral cowardice, of which they were notoriously guilty, by an extra amount of blustering and ruffling. They were aristocratic bravoes. Their hands were always on their swords. What better opportunity for a little 'play' than diversity of political opinion? Mr. Cassidy (newly elected to Daly's, hard by the senate-house) proposed that covers should be laid there every day, at Government expense, for-say-thirty or forty guests at least, who could thus be counted upon, on an emergency, to swell the ranks of the Government party in either House; and who, inflamed with wine and enthusiasm, would be delighted to shoot down, or spit, on shortest notice, any unwise person who should disagree from the opinions of their amphitryon. This project was thought ingenious, and was acted on. The feasts were known as 'pistol-dinners,' and took place-either at Daly's or in a committee-room adjoining, until their raison d'être had ceased-under the superintendence of Mr. Cassidy, who, wise enough to assume for a purpose a lower seat, placed this or that lord en evidence, as circumstances seemed to dictate. It was only natural that he should push forward as much as possible his patron, Lord Glandore; and the latter, as he grew more reckless and more claret-stained, came to glory in the unenviable privilege, and to put trust in the cheery friend who once was proud to be his slave.

He told him his passing woes, asked his advice, and sometimes took it. If you are sorely troubled, and in your anxiety to conceal that you are losing your nerve, force yourself on to preposterous deeds of prowess, there is much comfort to be obtained from the sympathetic ring of a jolly voice, the warm clasp of a shoulder-of-mutton hand. Cassidy, too, was so open and so innocent-so easily seen through. Lord Glandore felt a sort of disdain for him, dubbing him, with patrician condescension, a big grown-up baby, and so forth-even whilst he clutched for support the giant's burly arm. And Cassidy was no whit offended, laughing more loudly than ever as his patron's jests waxed broader-till the windows shook again, and the sound-waves carried a shimmer of his braying from Daly's to the House of Peers.

Sometimes Lord Clare deigned to encourage his satellites by appearing in person, during an interval of debate, at a pistol-dinner, whilst Lord Castlereagh was entertaining on a grand scale at home. Then were toasts drunk with three times three-Government toasts, to which the chancellor responded in a voice broken by emotion, with a lowly visage and hand pressed on heart; toasts which were borne on the air out of open windows to the ears of passers-by, who, scowling, hurried away. Then, fired by his hints, the pot-valiant heroes would rush forth and run a-muck-a right jovial way of finishing an evening from the point of view of a Cherokee; and the chancellor, protesting that the boys really were too lively and amusing, would return to the House alone by the private covered way.

One evening, when appearing amongst them to announce that the crisis was close at hand, he professed to be mightily alarmed by the proceedings of the opposition party. These were in the habit of meeting at my Lord Charlemont's, and on this occasion, he said with sorrow, they had dared to insult the King, in the person of his ministers, by burning himself and Lord Castlereagh in effigy in the middle of Stephen's Green. The chancellor said that it was most unkind and inconsiderate. Yet with Christian meekness he implored the faithful servants of his Majesty to take no notice of the outrage. The result was as he intended. With a wild war-whoop the lords and M.P.'s rose up from dinner, dragging the tablecloth with them in their zeal, and rushed off to Stephen's Green to fight it out. The anti-unionists were speedily put to flight, for they were few. By this means, and such tricks as this, did the crafty minister strive to browbeat the timid, many of whom, unassailable from any other point, were to be coerced into submission by the bullet-test.

Two only of the diners remained behind-both of whom were usually in the very van-Lord Glandore and Cassidy. The former was much out of sorts. The latter, certain that there was something on his mind, lay in wait to discover what it could be. He was very fond of penetrating other people's mysteries, was Mr. Cassidy-for it is astonishing how an ingenious mind can turn them to its own advantage-and Mr. Cassidy was always on the prowl to pick up stray wadding for his nest. He therefore, with a look of concern, sat down beside my lord, whose face lay on his arms upon the table, and rallied him about his evident depression.

'Come, come!' he cried, with a pat of his great hand. 'Sure your lordship's head was not well seasoned in its youth. What ails ye? The claret's good enough.'

'I wish I could be drowned in it!' Shane muttered with despondency; 'and then there'd be an end. There was a Duke of Clarence killed that way, you know-lucky fellow!'

'Is it kilt? 'Deed and your lordship won't come to so mean a death, I'll warrant; though ye're mighty careless of your life-more than I'd be if all you have was mine.'

Shane started up with a fierce glare. Everybody's chance arrows seemed winged to stick into his flanks. But he saw nothing in the giant's flat, round visage but an engaging air of humour and unguarded openness. What a good-natured face! Shane, weaker than his mother, yearned for sympathy and consolation; the secret she had carried so long with heroic fortitude ate into his softer fibre, and devoured him. He was at his small wits' end to know how to act. Cassidy's warm heart and kindly friendship might perchance suggest something. Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings wisdom has come ere now. Acting on the impulse, Shane, with maudlin tears, swore his dear friend to solemn secrecy, and amidst a coruscation of cries and curses, blurted out the story which we wot of.

'What a cruel, cruel world it was!' he wailed, 'and what a bitter fate was his! He would certainly come to be a beggar-would be thrown out upon the world an outcast, he, who was not fitted to battle with it-for my lady was very queer in her ways, would be certain to tell Terence some day, just as she had told him. Why had she ever told him? wicked and unnatural mother to cause him such harrowing grief! Why was not Terence hanged? Why didn't they send him to Fort George? Once taken out of sight, the chances of my lady's blabbing would be lessened.'

Cassidy sat listening to his rambling lamentations, with his china-blue eyes staring vacantly; then hummed to himself the words of the old song while his nimble brain was working:

'A jackdaw noble, glittering in the plumesOf the old race, whose honours he assumes!'

'My lady-my lady! It's always your mother ye're bothering about,' he said presently. 'Sure, your lordship's not tied to my lady's apron-string!'

But Shane's babble, once set going, was not to be stemmed by pertness. He proceeded to unfold all her suggestions, mingled with his own doubts and hopes and fears; and as he talked on, new ideas sprang into shape, which hitherto had lain indistinct and dormant. He told of Doreen and her fortune, and how he would like to marry her if he could get rid of her directly afterwards-of how fortunate it was that he had sold his parliamentary interest so well-of how Terence had rebuked him on that subject, and what a crackbrained lunatic he was-girt round with old-fashioned prejudice-beset with starched quirks and rubbish.

Cassidy's eyes twinkled, for he detected a glittering piece of wadding which would suit his nest right well-a precious piece of wadding made of revenge and self-interest interwoven-a rare piece of wadding which should be his if craft could win it.

'Would Miss Wolfe have your lordship?' he said carelessly; 'sure, it's many a colleen that'd jump at your refined appearance, let alone your wealth. But she-' the sentence remained unfinished, out of respect. He would not make disagreeable remarks to his patron for anything whatever. He therefore whistled in a deprecating and provoking manner, while the latter echoed pettishly:

'But she-what?'

'Maybe I'd best not tell ye! Well-if ye will have it-she-I fear she's sweet upon another gintleman-that's bad?'

Shane was fairly startled. It had never struck him that she could have already given herself away-to whom? As her form began to appear shadowy, he, with the usual inconsistency of man, began to hanker wildly after the ice-maiden-not for herself of course, but for the money-box.

'It's not possible!' he cried.

''Deed 'tis!' returned the other, with compassion. 'She's deep in love with Councillor Crosbie. I've known it this long while.'

Shane ground his teeth and sprang upon his feet. This last blow was too much. What! this interloper was going to rob him of his birthright and his name, and, not content with that, was also going to take the precious ice-maiden, whose paltry little stockingful would at least keep hunger from the pauper's door. In an access of rage Shane paraded up and down the club-room like a tiger. Inflamed by his own critical condition he lashed himself into savage unreasoning passion, and Cassidy whistled softly before the fire, with his big legs stretched out and his fists deep in his pockets, until the young man should have attained the requisite degree of heat. Then, when he judged the patient's temper to be sufficiently exasperated, he passed his arm through his, and in a low coaxing voice poured poison in his ear while the two walked. Sure, his lordship must take the bull by the horns and act promptly, unless he was satisfied to sit with hands before him and lose all. He must take measures to prevent Master Terence from seeing any more of his mother or of Miss Doreen until something could be definitely settled.

Shane half understood, and his blood tingled.

How did his lordship's father espouse her ladyship? Was it not after the then prevailing fashion of high-spirited Irish gentlemen? Did he not carry her off before all competitors, as many another noble member of the Abduction Club had carried away his bride? True, the Abduction Club had ceased to exist five and twenty years ago; but in the present unsettled condition of the country, there was no reason why a leaf should not be taken from its book. Lord Kilwarden would hush the matter up, which would merely be a little scandal, strictly limited within the family circle. Miss Doreen would be Madam Shane: good luck to the winsome colleen! Her money would be his-so would be the forty-five thousand pounds for which he had sold his vote. Come what might, then, there would be no need to talk of drowning himself in claret-of being thrust forth a beggar in the world.

Shane listened and brightened up. The abduction idea was good, and jumped with his Irish romance. He would marry the ice-maiden without having to woo her-a proceeding that he knew he could not accomplish. But how about Terence? He would interfere-knight of the rueful countenance though he professed to be. My lady too-what should prevent her from speaking before these arrangements could be carried out? The ruinous words were on the tip of her tongue. Terence was at Strogue, and bound to remain there. He could not leave the grounds without breaking his parole.

Cassidy was delivered of a real inspiration; and nothing could be easier than to carry it out. Did not the chancellor say only an hour ago that the tussle was close at hand-that the Great Measure was to be again brought forward without delay? Well then. Master Terence must disappear. Nonsense! No sbirri in long cloaks as in an opera. Major Sirr and faithful Cassidy could manage that. He could be locked up by an error of orders just for a little. Was he not a state-prisoner on parole? and was not the younger Emmett-foolish young scapegrace, who thought he concealed his identity under the name of Hewitt-busily preparing to dash his head against a wall? What easier than to suggest that Councillor Crosbie-already so gravely compromised-had broken his parole and gone off to join the baby-conspirators? The Battalion would come up by dozens to swear it. They would minutely describe where and how-the other side of the country-they had captured him a second time; would claim rewards for doing so. Afterwards he should be forthcoming without a hair of his head being injured-his affectionate brother need not fear for his life. Apologies would be made if need were (for Government seemed determined to treat him very leniently), and all would be right as a trivet. Whether any one would speak or no, so that later on he might assume his title, was an after consideration. By the time he was released, Lord Glandore would have voted; Doreen would be Madam Shane; Lord Kilwarden would have blessed his children. The matter would be settled-Shane would be safely provided for. If the rumour of the councillor's escape and the breaking of his parole were deftly managed, his own friends would be disgusted; his mother, even, would see that confession would not help matters; Government would wash its hands of so determined a Croppy, when, the measure carried, his influence would be null and void. It would be very much more likely than not that those who could speak would irrevocably decide-after the escapade which they would father on him-that the secret must be kept for ever.

Shane was amazed and delighted. The babe and suckling had spoken wisdom indeed-admirable! Verily the best plans are the most simple ones, and nothing could be simpler than this. It was not possible more cleverly to meet every difficulty, to countercheck every contingency, than by this subtle scheme. He promised himself in the future to make Terence a splendid allowance as a salve to his own conscience-so soon as he held his portion of the blood-money, and Doreen's stocking and his marquisate, and a certainty that nobody would blab. So easily are we inclined to believe what suits us that his bugbear vanished into the air. Terence would never know. The crisis past, the prospective marquis would score a point before the world by laying claim to his brother's liberty, feigning to demand it for state services, instead of promotion in the peerage. Of course everybody would applaud so gracious, so affectionate an act. He would receive both favours. The clouds which threatened to smother him were melting unaccountably before a magic wand. How strange that the man who had power to work so potent a spell should be stupid blundering Cassidy!