Orange and Green Part 26

"I have a letter to him, from his friend Mr. Fitzgerald of Waterford. If you tell him that, I think he will see me now."

"That's all right," the man said. "He tould me if anyone came with a letter from that gentleman, I was to show him up."

So saying, he led him upstairs.

"Here's a young man, your honour, with the letter you tould me about, from Mr. Fitzgerald."

"Show him in," a voice said; and Walter entered a sitting room. The gentleman who was with him said nothing, until the door was closed behind him. Then he asked:

"Has the ship come in?"

To which Walter replied:

"She is sailing slowly, but she will come."

"That's right," the merchant said, rising. "Where do you come from?"

"I am Walter Davenant, a cornet in my father's troop of horse, and I have come direct from Limerick. I have a letter for you, in my collar."

He pulled off his coat, the merchant handed him a knife, he ripped open the collar, and, taking out the papers concealed there, picked out that intended for Mr. O'Brian, which was not directed, but had only a slight mark upon it to distinguish it from the others. The merchant read it in silence.

"I am disappointed, Mr. Davenant," he said, as he finished it. "I had hoped that a dash would be made at Dublin this winter; but the general says that it has been decided to fight one more campaign on the defensive, and that in the autumn, when the French arrive, there will be a general advance. Now, I am ready to answer any question you are instructed to ask."

"In the first place, sir, how many men do you think would be ready to join in any rising in Dublin?"

"It would all depend upon whether an Irish army was advancing in this direction. In that case, some seven or eight thousand men would rise. But unless, there were a hope of early a.s.sistance, I do not think that above a thousand could be relied on. I have about that number on my list. They, as you see, could do nothing una.s.sisted. There are three or four thousand troops here, and the Protestant mob who would join them would number seven or eight thousand, at the very least. Therefore, any attempt to rise in the face of such odds, unless after a crushing defeat of William's troops, would be out of the question. But, as I said, if an army were marching on Dublin, the Protestants would be thinking more of taking to their ships than fighting, and all the Catholics in the city would then join the movement."

"I think the general hoped that you could have mustered a stronger force, sir."

"So I could, a year ago," Mr. O'Brian said; "but the constant persecution and ill treatment of the Catholics have caused large numbers of them to leave the town. Many of the younger and more determined men have made their way west and joined the army. I fear that the numbers I have given are quite as many as can be relied upon."

"The general was in hopes," Walter said, "that a diversion might have been caused in the spring, by a rising in Dublin, which would, even if unsuccessful, compel the Dutch general to keep a large force here."

"It might have been done, six or eight months ago," Mr. O'Brian said; "but the spirit of the people here has been very much broken, as well as their numbers diminished. But you can rely upon it, that if anything like a general rising can be got up, we will do our share here. With but a thousand men I can rely on, I feel that any open insurrection would be hopeless; but we could fire the city at a score of points, night after night, and so alarm the citizens that they would insist on a considerable force being kept here for their protection, and this would aid our friends outside. I know nothing as to what is being done there, I have only charge of the matter inside the city."

"I am well aware of that, sir, and have to call upon those who have the threads of the movement, throughout the country, in their hands. I only arrived today, and came to you first, in order that I might know how matters stand here before I see the others. I shall, of course, call again upon you before I leave."

After leaving Mr. O'Brian, Walter visited the houses of several others to whom he bore letters. The accounts of the feeling throughout the country were more encouraging than those which he had received from Mr. O'Brian.

The hatred of the invaders was greater than ever, and the peasantry in all parts were in a state of sullen desperation. Indeed, the enemy could nowhere move, in small parties, without the certainty of being attacked.

The pressing need was arms. A great part of the peasants who owned guns had already joined the army, and the rest possessed no weapons beyond roughly-made pikes, and scythes fixed on long handles. These were formidable weapons in a sudden attack on any small party, but they would not enable the peasants to cope, with any chance of success, against considerable bodies of troops, especially if provided with artillery.

The persons whom Walter saw were in communication with the disaffected in all parts of the country, and agreed in the opinion that a general rising should be delayed, until some striking success was obtained by the Irish army, when the whole country would rise and fall upon the enemy wherever met with. The plans for a rising having been discussed and arranged, after several interviews, at some of which most of the leaders of the movement were present, Walter prepared to start again for the camp, with the news that the first Irish victory would be followed by a rising throughout the country, aided by great conflagrations, if not by a serious movement in Dublin.

The negotiations had occupied over a fortnight. During the first ten days, Larry, who always kept watch outside the house Walter was visiting, reported that nothing whatever had occurred that was in the slightest degree suspicious. Then he told Walter, on his retiring to their lodgings, that he fancied their footsteps were followed.

"Do you think so, Larry?"

"I do, yer honour," Larry replied earnestly. "Three times, when you were in the house, the same man came along the street, and each time I saw him look up at the windows, and somehow I felt that he was following us on our way back. I looked round several times, and each time I fancied I saw a fellow slip into a doorway."

"That is serious, Larry. You don't think anyone in this house can have a suspicion of us?"

"Not they, yer honour. They all think it's just as you say; that the village was burned, and we have come to look for work in the city.

Besides, if it was anyone here, he wouldn't have to take the trouble to track us back."

"That's true enough, Larry. No; if there is a suspicion, it must be from some spy in the house of one of the gentlemen I have visited. We know that the leading Catholics are all suspected, and some of the servants may have been bribed to report everything which takes place in the house.

We must be very careful; and let us arrange this, Larry, that if there is trouble and we get separated, we will neither of us come back to our lodging, but will meet at that burned-out village three miles along the western road. If anything happens to me, go to the first house I went to, and see Mr. O'Brian, and tell him that I have been taken. If there is anything to be done he will do it. If not, make your way straight back to Limerick. I have told you exactly what has been arranged with people I have seen, and you can tell my father, who will report to the general.

But whatever you do, don't stop here with any idea of getting me out of their hands. The most important thing is that they should know, at Limerick, exactly what has been arranged. If you remain here, you would almost certainly be caught also, for, as the man who has followed us will be aware that we are together, a search will at once be made for you. So mind, my orders are, that if you see I am in trouble you are at once to set out for Limerick. If you think that I may manage to get away, you are also to leave at once, but are to wait for me, for twelve hours, at the village three miles out. If I do not come by the end of that time, it will be that I have been taken, and you are to go straight on."

It was on the evening when all the arrangements were finally settled, that a loud knocking was heard at the door of the house where eight of the princ.i.p.al persons in the affair were a.s.sembled. One of them looked out of the window, and announced that the street was full of soldiers.

All leaped to their feet, and drew their swords.

"It is of no use to resist, gentlemen," Walter said. "Do you put bottles and gla.s.ses on the table, and sit down quietly. I will try to escape. If they find you alone, they can prove nothing against you, and if I get safe off, you also are safe. Is there any way out on to the roof? No doubt the house is watched behind."

"There is a trapdoor," the gentleman, in whose house they were, said, and led the way upstairs at full speed. As he was unbolting the trap, Walter ran into a bedroom and seized an armful of blankets, then ran up the ladder to the trapdoor, and stepped out on to the roof. The door was closed behind him, and he heard the bolts drawn, and then his host ran downstairs and told the frightened servants to open the doors, which had so far resisted the attack from without. Headed by an officer, the soldiers rushed in.

"What means this violence?" the gentleman asked. "Why is my house broken into in this way?"

"I arrest you, and all who are in this house," the officer said, "on the charge of treason."

"Treason!" the gentleman said, coolly. "You will find no treason here. I have a few friends upstairs, who are cracking a bottle of port; but that is not, so far as I am aware, against the law."

The officer ran upstairs to the room where the others were standing, as if surprised at the tumult, round the table, on which were bottles and half-filled gla.s.ses.

"Take the names of all these persons," the officer said to the sergeant who followed him, "and then convey them in custody to the castle."

"There is no trouble about their names," the host said. "All are well known and peaceful citizens, as can be testified by any magistrate."

"Where is the man who was with you?" the officer said, looking round.

"There is, so far as I am aware, no one in the house, sir, beyond these gentlemen and my domestics."

"It is a lie!" the officer exclaimed, furiously. "A man was seen to enter this house, an hour and a half ago, and no one has left since."

"A young man! Oh, I suppose you mean the young fellow who brought me a message from my cousin, at Waterford, and who called to ask if I had yet found him any employment. Oh yes, he has been here, but left some time ago, unless he is chatting with the maids in the kitchen."

The officer directed a rigorous search to be made of the house. The soldiers soon reported that every nook and corner had been examined, but that no one was to be found. At this moment, a shot was fired in the street, and a sergeant ran in.

"Captain Peters bid me say, sir, that they have just caught sight of a man on the roof of a house, some distance along the street."

"Take the prisoners to the castle, under a strong guard, sergeant. You will be answerable for their safety," the officer exclaimed, as he ran downstairs.

Directly the trap closed behind him, Walter--sure that some minutes would pa.s.s before the method of his escape was known--tore the blankets he had brought with him into wide strips, tied the ends together, and twisted them up into the form of a rope; then, coiling this over his arm, he made his way along the roofs. The street below was now a ma.s.s of people. The report that a Popish plot had been discovered, and that a number of important arrests had been made, spread quickly, as the soldiers were seen gathered round the house. The news was sufficient to stir up party feelings, and the mob which collected soon set up the shout which had, of late, been so often raised in the streets of Dublin--"Down with the Papists!"

Soon the crashing of gla.s.s was heard, as stones were hurled at the dwellings of known Catholics. Walter, anxious for the safety of Larry, who was, he knew, somewhere without, tried to look down into the street to see what was going on, believing that in the darkness he could not be seen. The flash of a musket, and the whistle of a ball close to him, showed him that his figure had been seen against the skyline.

Drawing back, he paused a moment in thought. The trapdoor would be discovered at once, and a search on the roof commenced, and the soldiers would be placed behind the houses. There was no time to be lost in continuing his search for a house with a building projecting behind, onto which he could lower himself with his rope, which was not nearly long enough to reach the ground.

Looking over at the back, between two of the sharp ridges of the roofs, he hung his rope so that it would fall across a window, fastened the end round a stack of chimneys, and then, taking hold of it, swung himself over. He had been very careful in tying the knots, and had tested them by pulling at them with all his strength; but he did not feel at all certain that they might not draw with his weight, in which case he must have been dashed to pieces on the ground far below him; but there was no time to hesitate, and, as fast as he could, he began to slide down the rope, the frequent knots affording good hold for his hands.