My Lords of Strogue Volume Ii Part 5

As the girl surveyed herself archly in the gla.s.s, she perceived why her lover feared her not. Indeed there was little of the grand style about the colleen. A rosy cheek; a liquid merry eye; a large ripe mouth, and an impudent upturned nose. No cla.s.sical belle was poor Norah--only a healthy, comely wench--just such an one as would be likely to enchain a man with no loftier aspirations than Glandore's.

Though mamma was inclined to be glum, her daughter was in the highest spirits; for before her was the delicious prospect of the ball (such gaieties were becoming rarer and more rare), and she was quite convinced, from what Shane had said, that that spiteful cat the countess had lied when conversing at Crow Street with Lady Camden. It was true, certainly, that he was going away for a few weeks. It appeared that he had duties to perform, and she liked him too well to stand in the way of his duties. But as to that sinful, deceitful, odious story about bringing home a bride, the notion was quite too foolish. He had sworn as much with entrancing kisses, and was she not delighted to believe him? Why, there would be only two ladies of the party, he averred. Did his little goose suppose that he could lead his own mother to the altar? As for Doreen, the idea was quite as preposterous. Her frigid ways and tiresome national wrongs were not to his taste at all. Therefore Miss Norah was quite content, though she had just bidden her lover farewell. She would see him no more for several months, perhaps; for, to avoid attending a ball where objectionable fine ladies would congregate, my lord had settled to ride as _avant courier_ to Drogheda, to superintend the preparations at the inn where my lady and the household were to sojourn.

Though the volcano was heaving in portentous fashion, society seemed of one mind as to dancing jigs upon it to the last. Upon formal proclamation of martial law, the yeomanry had thrown off all disguise.

The squireens were ruffianly through ignorance, their betters through self-interest, for it was easy to detect which way the wind was blowing. The chancellor was plainly for harsh measures. 'I will make these Irish as tame as cats,' he was heard incautiously to say. It was to be a war of cla.s.s against cla.s.s, in which both parties were artistically goaded by dark suspicions and deftly-spread falsehoods.

Internecine strife is always remarkable for a display of the vilest pa.s.sions. It seems as if the flow of gall is the more bitter from the difficulty of first pumping it to the surface. Major Sirr and his gang took to prowling in the night-houses--to making evening raids on taverns--a species of political crimping which was fruitful of brilliant hawls. Lists were even despatched to the Staghouse by Mr.

Secretary Cooke that the town-major's lambs might study them, and 'pencil off such as they deemed dangerous to the country.' Bands of armed squireens sallied out in the mad frolics begot by drink, to 'give their opinion' to the disaffected, and the result was such a succession of night-brawls that Lord Clare was sorry and hurt.

'What are we to do with these depraved turbulent creatures?' he plaintively inquired of the cabinet. And one and all--Arthur Wolfe even reluctantly consenting--admitted that stringent measures were imperative, or anarchy would surely supervene. So an order went forth that none should appear in Dublin streets after eight o'clock p.m., unless armed with a special permit to do so. The theatres were closed.

The city was in a state of siege, as though really Hoche were at its gates.

But this was too dull for my lords and my ladies, who were not given to reading books, and had no intention that annoyance should fall upon themselves. They met for cards at one another's houses, their sedans protected by retinues of servants; but this was a poor pastime to folks who were accustomed to the public dances of Fishamble Street--the sumptuous entertainments at the Castle. They grumbled that this premature alarm was ridiculous. The French were not in Ireland, though the 'Shan van Vocht' was wont lyrically to declare at all hours of the day that they were on the sea. As for the United Irishmen, they were a 'Bugaboo.' With the troops which had been sent over any attempted rising could be frustrated at once; but they would not be so stupid as to rise--the tongues of these foul-mouthed patriots were more killing than their swords. My Lord Clare must be losing his nerve, he was not severe enough. They--the lords, urged by their ladies--would see that a proper spirit of terror was instilled into the sc.u.m, so that even if called on by their chiefs to rise, they would sit like beaten hounds--their tails between their legs. Lord Clare looked at Lord Camden from under his beetling penthouse. Lord Camden looked at Lord Clare and hummed, and hawed, and shuffled. For the unfortunate gentleman who represented majesty, though he lived as much as he could, like some j.a.panese monarch behind screens, could not hide himself so well but that unpleasant speeches reached his ears. He had consented tacitly to make a Guy Fawkes of himself, and permit the bearers of the pageant to explode malodorous squibs under his nose; but when the evil savours choked him he winced in tribulation. He grew to hate his tormentor well-nigh as much as the people did, which was no little. But Lord Clare's day of triumph seemed in nowise on the wane--everything went as he wished it to go. His ruthless bearing had made him a despot in the imbecile senate. His colleagues, forgetting their rank, their country, and their dignity, yielded to the spell of his dictation as a fascinated bird drops before the snake. The letters of congratulation which he received from Pitt and others were acc.u.mulating within his escritoire. So soon as he should have tamed the tiger-Irish, how great would his reward be! He saw in the distance a vision no longer dim. An English peerage. A position in the English House of Lords, where great statesmen should listen to his periods--where Nestors should encourage his ambition. There seemed no end to the gorgeous vista. Why not some day a.s.sume the place of Pitt himself, who, though young, was (at least the world said so) eaten up by debauchery and excess? And what was there which stood 'twixt himself and this glorious prospect? His own country, its interests, its safety, its political existence--nothing more! Pooh! Time works wonders. Things were going well. If those idiots would only fall upon the swords which were held out to them, there was no knowing what might not be accomplished. The Hibernian lords and gentlemen were in a fair way of exhibiting themselves to the odium of the world. Having danced their infernal dance at the bidding of those who clutched the purse-strings, they would make a sorry figure when the latter spurned them in disgust. What would they do then? Only sink lower still, and become more abject, till the pit of degradation should know no deeper depth. That was the way to work on them! To hold out threats that pensions would not be paid unless certain dirty work was done. To declare then that it was much too dirty--that by disobeying instructions they had forfeited the right to sit in the presence of decent people; that, having gone so far, all sense of respect must be abandoned; that, honour being lost, nothing was left to them but money; that with their own guilty hands they must cut the throat of their legislature, and drown remorse so long as the blood-money should last. This was to be the crowning edifice of my Lord Clare's scheme; and Mr. Pitt laughed a sardonic laugh as he tied a wet towel round his throbbing temples. He had got very drunk and lost at whist, had the gay young British premier; but the excellence of this conceit caused him to grin, despite his headache.

'This Irishman,' he laughed, 'talks monstrous fine about the low ebb to which the Irish lords have sunk--forgetting that his own place is lower still than theirs; but he does his burrowing with rare ability.'

So Lord Clare worked and wormed with consummate diplomacy and tact, while those who employed him despised their tool in increasing ratio with his success; and Lord Camden's seat of thorns became daily more galling, and the silly mice gambolled with a recklessness which compelled pity--and old Father Time hurried on, afraid to look behind him.

My lords and my ladies, finding Dublin very dull, began to vent their spleen. The chancellor therefore saw that he must break the ice, which had been freezing up too rapidly. He announced, accordingly, that the Castle festivities would not be postponed, as had been intended. The grand ball, usually given on Christmas Eve, would take place a week later instead--no other change would result from the threatening state of affairs. Gentlemen, however, were requested to wear their swords; for all sorts of rumours were abroad, which the executive sincerely hoped were merely the invention of the enemy. How any enemy could be so heartless as to plot and conspire against so angelic an executive, etc., etc., as usual.

That the great ball was really to take place, was hailed with universal delight. Everybody knows St. Patrick's hall--its magnificent proportions, the suite of state-rooms to which it leads; the splendid staircases, balconies, lobbies; ideal spots for flirtation--or conspiracy. All parties, patriotic and the reverse, rejoiced at prospect of this _fete_, for several reasons.

Sirr and his Battalion of Testimony were becoming so ubiquitous--informers had a way of turning up so unexpectedly--that it grew daily more difficult to hit on a place of meeting secure from their spying presence. Of course only gentlemen and ladies 'to the backbone' could expect to gain admittance to Castle dinners and concerts; but with the St. Patrick b.a.l.l.s it was otherwise. These a.s.semblies bore so official a character that respectable citizens of all denominations were certain of receiving an invitation. Lord Clare, aware of this, had made his calculations. The United Irishmen were sure to be there in force; it would not be his fault if they did not flounder into a hole.

It was for this ball on New Year's Eve that Norah Gillin had gone forth to purchase ribbons and plumes. It was for this ball that my Lady Glandore had waited--after which she and Miss Wolfe were to start for Donegal, changing their gala-dresses at the first stage upon the road.

Sara, who burned to see Robert and hear how his red-hot speech at the debating society had been received, importuned her father with unusual eagerness to take her to this ball. Was his little primrose becoming worldly? he inquired, with a gloomy smile. No, no! Twinkling feet should go with light hearts. Whose hearts might be light at this awful crisis? His girl must stop at home and say her prayers for Erin, and he would soothe himself and her by strains on the violoncello. That instrument was constantly in his hand now, whenever he was at home; and folks trembled as they pa.s.sed by at night, for sure such dreadful sounds must come from the d.a.m.ned in agony!

Mr. Curran was exceeding sick at heart. His friend Wolfe upbraided him constantly for too openly opposing Government; whilst, on the other hand, anonymous letters arrived by dozens, abusing him for lukewarmness in the cause. He shook his head at the latter, muttering, as he tossed them into the fire, 'Blind fools! Mine is the waiting game. Ye'll be glad enough by-and-by that I stood neutral!'

But on the morning of the 29th a report came to the lawyer's ears which filled him with amazement. He put aside his beloved violoncello, and trotted to Dublin to see Emmett, Russell, Bond. The report was true, he found. Vainly he argued and protested--vowed that to save them from their madness he must go and tell Lord Clare. No! He would not betray them, but would go and intercede. The chancellor was not at home to him, though he saw him come from behind a curtain; so, retiring disconsolately to the Priory, he bade Sara fetch out her gewgaws, as he must even take her to the Castle after all.

St. Patrick's hall was crowded when he and his child entered it--she in a white muslin dress, with a single frilling round its short skirt, a scarf of soft green about her neck, for the night was bitter, and the dancing-room beset by draughts. It was a gay a.s.semblage, for General Lake (who had arrived recently) and all his staff were present in glittering English uniforms, which were not to be outdone in splendour by the officers of Irish militia. Even Mr. Curran's unmartial figure was buckramed in gold and scarlet, for was not he too an officer of the Lawyer's corps, which forbade its members to wear mufti?

The national love of parade showed strongly in the martial costume which the sons of Erin donned. Sumptuous embroidery was scattered with a lavish hand over cuffs, high collars, padded b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and tight-fitting pantaloons; while some regiments, whose colonels boasted of picturesque proclivities, were grand in the matter of shoulder-knots and becoming scarves around the waist. The effect was enhanced by contrast, for metal ornaments were little used at that day to adorn the dresses of the fair, who with towering ostrich feathers, silken fillets, lofty wreaths of flowers, could afford to resign to their lords and masters the glories of gold and silver. Variety of texture, too, heightened the fine effect; for whilst men were swathed quite stiff in gold-laced coats and voluminous cravats, young ladies wore as little as possible, and that of thinnest gauze or c.r.a.pe, and their mammas the scantiest quant.i.ty of shot or patterned silk.

The scene was the more animated for the strangeness of its component parts. Irish patriotic belles were putting forth all their attractions to pump young English exquisites--aides-de-camp to Lake or Abercromby--to entrap them into unguarded statements, which might convey useful information to their brothers. General Lake himself was literally besieged by beauty, who lavished before that vain person the fascination of neat ankles, the flash of diamond eyes, the charms of pouting bosoms--in order to wring from him, in spite of caution, some hint of the intentions of the military. This was a game open to both parties. Aides-de-camp were instructed to ensnare their partners as to the plans of the United Irishmen; to discover, if possible, under the mask of innocent flirtation, who the acting delegates were, what were their views, their capacities, their characters; but it must be admitted that the weak s.e.x generally had the best of it, for hot-headed youth is apt to be distracted by externals, and the costume of the period was characterised by peculiarities which were calculated to mislead young men.

This practice of seeking the society of political opponents for the purpose of discovering secrets, and of frustrating designs by sly hand-pressure or furtive kissing behind doors, was one quite after the burrowing heart of the astute lord chancellor, who stood smiling by the side of the throne, his dapper figure clothed in official costume, his neat limbs displaying their roundness in black silk breeches and stockings. He was chatting with my Lady Glandore, who with Doreen sat close to Lady Camden, directing her attention to some prettier girl than usual--(where are more to be found than in the Irish capital?)--some peculiar headdress or _outre_ garment. Nothing could seem more guileless than he, as he busied his pure soul with trifles--the colour of a shoe--the fashion of a sash. When Curran and Sara entered he changed colour, muttering ere he recovered himself: 'What brings him here, I wonder?'

He was not left long in suspense; for the lawyer bowed before the Viceroy, made straight for my lady's bench, and having deposited Sara by Doreen, began to speak abruptly in undertones.

'I tried to see you to-day, my lord, and could not. We were friends once, though it is long since we quarrelled. Yet I feel impelled to make one more protest. You are driving this unhappy country to the brink of a great tragedy. You, and you alone, are responsible for this. It is not yet too late, but to-morrow it may be. Reflect, Lord Clare, while yet there's time!'

Curran grasped the chancellor's arm in his earnestness.

'Do you refer to the United Irishmen?' drawled the latter.

'Do not despise your enemy, my lord. That a.s.sociation at first was small,' pursued Curran, 'the earth seemed to drink it as a rivulet. A thousand streams, through the secret windings of the earth, found their way to one source and swelled its waters; it is prepared now to burst forth as a great river--what will its cataracts not sweep away?

It is you, my lord, who will have aggravated sedition into rebellion.'

'Dear, dear!' smiled Lord Clare. 'Do you, too, listen to their claptrap? I say to you, as I've said openly all along, nothing can be more lenient than the executive! We stand simply on the defensive. I don't mind telling you in confidence,' he continued, eyeing his companion askance, 'that there is a plot which is to be carried out at this very ball to-night, for kidnapping his excellency and your humble servant, and locking us up somewhere quite cosy and comfortable.

Audacious and clever, is it not? Yes, we have all the details--indeed, we had them yesterday, which may account to you for the muster of troops in the yard below, and the display of scarlet on the stairs and in the corridors. Clever, but, oh dear, how wild! I hope for their own sakes that the troops will daunt them; for nothing could come of this but an unseemly scuffle which would distress the ladies. Would you like to hear the rest of the plot? If these fools shall succeed in possessing themselves of our valuable carcases, a rocket is to be sent up from the corner of Ormond's quay, when two parties will start simultaneously--one to seize the artillery at Chapelizod, the other to surprise Newgate and Kilmainham. You look astonished. Well you may, for it is indeed astonishing.'

Curran looked deeply pained, but made no reply. The chancellor's cold flippant tones pierced his heart like knives. How could a band of unwary, warm-hearted, impulsive fellows, who were prepared to dare all for motherland, cope with this hard calculating schemer? Truly, it was well for them that _he_ was there. The feeblest arm may be nerved by wrong for miracles. It was news of this rash project which had changed his plans as to the ball. He saw at a glance that it was impracticable. He had explained this to those whom it concerned; that it was an impossible compromise between those of the Directory who wished to wait, and those others who were for commencing a regular war this winter, which could be productive of nothing but disaster. The enthusiasm of the delegates had simply exasperated him. The G.o.d of battles, they said, was always on the side of right! Was He? Such had not been the experience of Mr. Curran's schooling. All he could do was to intercede with those in power--to make a final call on their humanity; and if that failed, humbly to bend the knee to Providence.

He was moving away when Lord Clare stopped him.

'Mr. Curran,' he said, with a winning show of teeth, 'as you said, we once were friends; why not again? It's not my fault, mind. The heroic role no doubt is charming; but, believe me, fitted more for adolescence than for men in middle life. You aim at becoming the champion of the oppressed. You will come to grief with them, I fear.'

'In a general intoxication the most grievous of offenders is he who pa.s.ses the cup, refusing to be degraded,' snapped the lawyer.

'Rebuking by importunate sobriety the indecent revelry around--eh, Mr.

Curran?' laughed the chancellor. 'That's a fit finish to your period, I think. What a mistake it is when orators forget that they are not always addressing juries or const.i.tuents.'

As the lawyer plunged into the crowd, Lord Clare muttered:

'd.a.m.n him, he can't be bought; let us try what traps will do.' Then cried with the artlessness of infancy, 'Miss Wolfe! Miss Wolfe! What makes you look so animated? The statue has come to life while I've been gossiping with that eccentric friend of ours.'

Pupil of Machiavelli! He knew as well as did Doreen, though his back was turned--for he had a way of looking aslant like a hare--that a party of young men had just appeared in the grand doorway, who not long since were suffering as traitors. Tom Emmett and his a.s.sociates presented themselves before their natural enemy, the Viceroy; then retired into a side-room to deliberate. Things were going wrong, yet the Emmetts did not despair. Tom had fought with all his might in council against the kidnapping scheme--in vain--and was no little relieved when he discovered that the ma.s.sing of troops about the Castle had rendered this plot abortive. As they marched up the grand staircase the delegates scrutinised each soldier who stood upright and impa.s.sive on each step. One hummed between his teeth of a 'green bough,' but met with no response. The executive fell into no errors.

These soldiers, ostensibly placed there as a new spectacle for Dublin eyes, belonged to a regiment just landed, who could not by any possibility know aught about a green bough, or care about it, or bestow mysterious sidewinks upon such as chose to babble of it. The mine had through treachery of some sort been countermined. Those two parties who were waiting in ambush for a signal must wait and shiver in the cold; there could be no starting either for Chapelizod or Kilmainham. Perhaps they would all agree now to place firmer faith in their chief--to trust to the judgment of him who stood in the shoes of Tone. Why, the French might be under weigh by this time. A pretty thing it would be if upon his landing Hoche found the ground already cut from beneath his feet by the precipitancy of his Irish allies!

They had been awaiting intelligence for weeks. Terence would return anon with news--something tangible on which to build up future edifices.

At mention of Terence a shade of coldness came over the faces of some of the young men. Ca.s.sidy--who was in splendid military garb, which made his stalwart figure look like a modern Mars--had joined them on their entry; and chid them severely now for daring to be suspicious of Mr. Crosbie.

'What matters it,' he asked, 'about his brother's views? Brothers usually take up opinions as diametrically opposed as possible, as though to establish a family balance.' He himself who spoke, whom none would presume to suspect, had angled after Councillor Crosbie as an invaluable accession to their ranks; had angled in vain for long, till the Orr atrocity had roused even him. He, Ca.s.sidy, their old boon-companion, who would give his lifeblood for any of them, would go bail for the honesty of Terence. 'His honesty, forsooth! The suspicion was ludicrous. What had he to gain by joining them, in proportion with what he lost? He, an aristocrat, who might be Earl of Glandore to-morrow--his brother being the fighting champion of the Cherokees.'

Robert followed suit with grateful glances at Ca.s.sidy. 'Their faith had been shaken by Miss Wolfe, than whom there was no patriot more earnest. But they must remember that Miss Wolfe, masculine and shrewd as by whiffs she seemed, was a woman who was, like all women, guided by her heart rather than her head. Terence, for aught he knew, might have been worshipping at some other shrine than hers, which, to a woman's mind, would be quite excuse enough for allowing private malice to trip up public good. Terence had been his (Robert's) friend for years. Aye, and Tom's too. They must beg the members of the Irish Directory to avoid hasty decisions which afterwards they might repent.

Terence should have been back ere this, no doubt; but when he did arrive he would show good reason for delay.'

This discussion was carried on in whispers in the little drawing-room through which a flirting couple strolled now and then on the way to the buffet. Therefore Ca.s.sidy, who of late had begun to a.s.sume a whimsically patriarchal air in his communion with the delegates, because he was by a few years their senior, thought it prudent to stroll up and down the room now and again, lest haply his ubiquitous friend Sirr should be lurking behind a shutter, or the lord chancellor himself be squatting under a chair. The situation, to our modern minds, is well-nigh impossible to realise. Traitors wandering close under the viceregal nose, which they had arranged that very night to tweak; traitors who were marked men, yet who were allowed to be at large; who made no pretence to loyalty, who openly admitted that they panted to see the tricolour; that when this hour should come their vengeance would be like a thunderbolt. Spies, too, in all directions, and families rent in twain by greed of gold, and rare examples of honesty. Brothers against brothers, fathers against sons, daughters against mothers; yet all dancing and smirking together on the powder magazine which might be fired at any moment.

Ca.s.sidy deemed it prudent to keep watch and ward, to be sure that no eavesdroppers were listening to the squabbles of the delegates; and, in wheeling his big body round, caught sight of a new figure entering the ball-room.

Could it be? Terence! returned from Cork, looking handsome and well in the dress of the Lawyer's corps. The jealous giant ground his teeth as he marked him pressing gently through the crowd to make his bow, smiling his bright smile to his numerous friends, then turning to the left to where his relations sat. Doreen affected not to see him, Ca.s.sidy perceived with glee. She would not speak to him at all. She was busy arranging Sara's scarf about her neck. This was prime. He must see what happened next. Alas! the devil gets hold of the best of us through jealousy! So, whispering, 'Whisht! boys--here's Terence--returned!' he hurried to observe what was pa.s.sing, pursued shortly after by the others, who for a second had been transfixed by the sudden appearance of the man about whose conduct they were quarrelling.

'Hope you enjoyed yourself at Cork. The sea-breeze has done you good,'

my lady was saying in frigid accents to her son; for she resented the unfailing good-humour of this boy who was always respectfully dutiful, as if he were not the seed of his mother's long remorse. It was the thought of him that had sent the crows to plough furrows on her face; that kept her awake sometimes all through the dreary night. If he had only reviled her, she would have preferred it to this studied courtesy. If he would only complain--but her conscience was leading her astray. He knew nothing, except that she loved him not. Why should he revile her? She had promised Lord Clare to caution him about his conduct; therefore she asked him to sit beside her. But for once he appeared undutiful, for he hurriedly postponed the invitation.

'I want to talk to you, Terence; sit by me,' she said.

'Presently, mother,' he answered. 'I will come back by-and-by; there is business that must be seen to.'

Then turning his back on her, he looked towards Doreen. She was so much occupied with that scarf of Sara's that it engrossed all her attention. She would not look up.

'I have come back, Doreen,' he whispered. 'Have you nothing to ask me?'

She raised her brown eyes to his for a moment. 'Nothing!' she said, then resumed her occupation.