The Knight Of Gwynne Volume II Part 15

"Heaven knows, my Lord. Sometimes I fancy that I ought not to quit my post here, even for a day; then again I begin to fear lest the new officials may see things in a different light, and that I may be thrown aside as the propagator of antiquated notions."

"Mere modesty, Heffernan," said Lord Castlereagh, with a look of the most comic gravity. "You ought to know by this time that no government can go on without you. You are the fly-wheel that regulates motion and perpetuates impulse to the entire machine. I 'd venture almost to declare that you stand in the inventory of articles transmitted from one viceroy to another; and as we read of 'one throne covered with crimson velvet, and one state couch with gilt supporters,' so we might chance to fall upon the item of 'one Con Heffernan, Kildare Place.'"

"In what capacity, my Lord?" said Heffernan, endeavoring to conceal his anger by a smile.

"Your gifts are too numerous for mention. They might better be summed up under the t.i.tle of 'State Judas.'"

"You forget, my Lord, that he carried the bag. Now I was never purse-bearer even to the Lord Chancellor. But I can pardon the simile, coming, as I see it does, from certain home convictions. Your Lordship was doubtless a.s.similating yourself to another historical character of the same period, and, would, like him, accept the iniquity, but 'wash your hands' of its consequences."

"Do you hear that, my Lord?" said Lord Castlereagh, turning round, and addressing the Bishop of Kilmore. "Mr. Heffernan has discovered a parallel between my character and that of Pontius Pilate." A look of rebuking severity from the prelate was directed towards Heffernan, who meekly said,--

"I was only reproving his Lordship for permitting me to discharge _all_ the duties of Secretary for Ireland, and yet receive none of the emoluments."

"But you refused office in every shape and form," said Lord Castlereagh, hastily. "Yes, gentlemen, as the last act of my official life amongst you,"--here he raised his voice, and moved into the centre of the room,--"I desire to make this public declaration, that as often as I have solicited Mr. Heffernan to accept some situation of trust and profit under the Crown, he has as uniformly declined; not, it is needless to say, from any discrepancy in our political views, for I believe we are agreed on every point, but upon the ground of maintaining his own freedom of acting and judging."

The declamatory tone in which he spoke these words, and the glances of quiet intelligence that were exchanged through the a.s.sembly, were in strong contrast with the forced calmness of Heffernan, who, pale and red by turns, could barely suppress the rage that worked within him; nor was it without an immense effort he could mutter a feigned expression of grat.i.tude for his Lordship's panegyric, while he muttered to himself,--

"You shall rue this yet!"

CHAPTER VIII. THE FIRE.

It was late in the evening as the Knight of Gwynne entered Dublin, and took up his abode for the night in an obscure inn at the north side of the city. However occupied his thoughts up to that time by the approaching event in his own fortune, he could not help feeling a sudden pang as he saw once more the well-known landmarks that reminded him of former days of happiness and triumph. Strange as it may now sound, there was a time when Irish gentlemen were proud of their native city; when they regarded its University with feelings of affectionate memory, as the scene of early efforts and ambitions, and could look on its Parliament House as the proud evidence of their national independence!

Socially, too, they considered Dublin--and with reason--second to no city of Europe; for there was a period, brief but glorious, when the highest breeding of the courtier mingled with the most polished wit and refined conversation, and when the splendor of wealth, freely displayed as it was, was only inferior to the more brilliant l.u.s.tre of a society richer in genius and in beauty than any capital of the world.

None had been a more favored partic.i.p.ator in these scenes than Darcy himself: his personal gifts, added to the claims of his family and fortune, secured him early acceptance in the highest circles; and if his abilities had not won the very highest distinctions, it seemed rather from his own indifference than from their deficiency.

In those days his arrival in town was the signal for a throng of visitors to call, all eagerly asking on what day they might secure him to dine or sup, to meet this one or that. The thousand flatteries society stores up for her favorites, all awaited him. Parties whose fulfilment hung listlessly in doubt were now hastily determined on, as "Darcy has come" got whispered abroad; and many a scheme of pleasure but half planned found a ready advocacy when the prospect of obtaining him as a guest presented itself.

The consciousness of social success is a great element in the victory.

Darcy had this, but without the slightest taint of vain boastfulness or egotism; his sense of his own distinction was merely sufficient to heighten his enjoyment of the world, without detracting ever so little from the manly and una.s.suming features of his character. It is true he endeavored, and even gave himself pains, to be an agreeable companion; but he belonged to a school and a time when conversation was cultivated as an art, and when men preferred making the dinner-table and the drawing-room the arena of their powers, to indicting verses for an "Annual," or composing tales for a fashionable "Miscellany."

We have said enough, perhaps, to show what Dublin was to him once. How very different it seemed to his eyes now! The season was late summer, and the city dusty and deserted,--few persons in the streets, scarcely a carriage to be seen; an air of listlessness and apathy was over everything, for it was the period when the country was just awakening after the intoxicating excitement of the Parliamentary straggle,--awakening to discover that it had been betrayed and deserted!

As soon as Darcy had taken some slight refreshment, he set out in search of Daly. His first visit was to Henrietta Street, to his own house, or rather what had been his, for it was already let, and a flaring bra.s.s-plate on the door proclaimed it the office of a fashionable solicitor. He knocked, and inquired if any one "knew where Mr. Bagenal Daly now resided;" but the name seemed perfectly unknown. He next tried Bicknell's; but that gentleman had not returned since the circuit: he was repairing the fatigues of his profession by a week or two's relaxation at a watering-place.

He did not like himself to call at the club, but he despatched a messenger from the inn, who brought word back that Mr. Daly had not been there for several weeks, and that his present address was unknown.

Worried and annoyed, Darcy tried in turn each place where Daly had been wont to frequent, but all in vain. Some had seen him, but not lately; others suggested that he did not appear much in public on account of his moneyed difficulties; and one or two limited themselves to a cautious declaration of ignorance, with a certain a.s.sumed shrewdness, as though to say that they could tell more if they would.

It was near midnight when Darcy returned to the inn, tired and worn out by his unsuccessful search. The packet in which he was to sail for England was to leave the port early in the morning, and he sat down in the travellers' room, exhausted and fatigued, till his chamber should be got ready for him.

The inn stood in one of the narrow streets leading out of Smithfield, and was generally resorted to by small farmers and cattle-dealers repairing to the weekly market. Of these, three or four still lingered in the public room, conning over their accounts and discussing the prices of "short-horns and black faces" with much interest, and antic.i.p.ating all the possible changes the new political condition of the country might be likely to induce.

Darcy could scarcely avoid smiling as he overheard some of these speculations, wherein the prospect of a greater export trade was deemed the most certain indication of national misfortune. His attention was, however, suddenly withdrawn from the conversation by a confused murmur of voices, and the tramp of many feet in the street without The noise gradually increased, and attracted the notice of the others, and suddenly the words "Fire! fire!" repeated from mouth to mouth, explained the tumult.

As the tide of men was borne onward, the din grew louder, and at length the narrow street in front of the inn became densely crowded by a mob hurrying eagerly forward, and talking in loud, excited voices.

"They say that Newgate is on fire, sir," said the landlord, as, hastily entering, he addressed Darcy; "but if you 'll come with me to the top of the house, we 'll soon see for ourselves."

Darcy followed the man to the upper story, whence, by a small ladder, they obtained an exit on the roof. The night was calm and starlight, and the air was still. What a contrast--that spangled heaven in all its tranquil beauty--to the dark streets below, where, in tumultuous uproar, the commingled ma.s.s was seen by the uncertain glimmer of the lamps, few and dim as they were. Darcy could mark that the crowd consisted of the very lowest and most miserable-looking cla.s.s of the capital, the dwellers in the dark alleys and purlieus of the ill-favored region. By their excited gestures and wild accents, it was clear to see how much more of pleasure than of sorrow they felt at the occasion that now roused them from their dreary garrets and damp cellars. Shouts of mad triumph and cries of menace burst from them as they went. The Knight was roused from a moody contemplation of the throng by the landlord saying aloud,--

"True enough, the jail is on fire: see, yonder, where the dark smoke is rolling up, that is Newgate."

"But the building is of stone, almost entirely of stone, with little or no wood in its construction," said Darcy; "I cannot imagine how it could take fire."

"The floors, the window-frames, the rafters are of wood, sir," said the other; "and then," added he, with a cunning leer, "remember what the inhabitants are!"

The Knight little minded the remark, for his whole gaze was fixed on the cloud of smoke, dense and black as night, that rolled forth, as if from the ground, and soon enveloped the jail and all the surrounding buildings in darkness.

"What can that mean?" said he, in amazement.

"It means that this is no accident, sir," said the man, shrewdly; "it's only damp straw and soot can produce the effect you see yonder; it is done by the prisoners--see, it is increasing! and here come the fire-engines!"

As he spoke, a heavy, cavernous sound was heard rising from the street, where now a body of horse-police were seen escorting the fire-engines.

The service was not without difficulty, for the mob offered every obstacle short of open resistance; and once it was discovered that the traces were cut, and considerable delay thereby occasioned.

"The smoke is spreading; see, sir, how it rolls this way, blacker and heavier than before!"

"It is but smoke, after all," said Darcy; but although the words were uttered half contemptuously, his heart beat anxiously as the dense volume hung suspended in the air, growing each moment blacker as fresh ma.s.ses arose. The cries and yells of the excited mob were now wilder and more frantic, and seemed to issue from the black, ill-omened ma.s.s that filled the atmosphere.

"That's not smoke, sir; look yonder!" said the man, seizing Darcy's arm, and pointing to a reddish glare that seemed trying to force a pa.s.sage through the smoke, and came not from the jail, but from some building at the side or in front of it.

"There again!" cried he, "that is fire!"

The words were scarcely uttered, when a cheer burst from the mob beneath. A yell more dissonant and appalling could not have broken from demons than was that shout of exultation, as the red flame leaped up and flashed towards the sky. As the strong host of a battle will rout and scatter the weaker enemy, so did the fierce element dispel the less powerful; and now the lurid glow of a great fire lit up the air, and marked out with terrible distinctness the waving crowd that jammed up the streets,--the windows filled with terrified faces, and the very house-tops crowded by terror-stricken and distracted groups.

The scene was truly an awful one; the fire raged in some houses exactly in front of the jail, pouring with unceasing violence its flood of flame through every door and window, and now sending bright jets through the roofs, which, rent with a report like thunder, soon became one undistinguish-able ma.s.s of flame. The cries for succor, the shouts of the firemen, the screams of those not yet rescued, and the still increasing excitement of the mob, mingling their h.e.l.lish yells of triumph through all the dread disaster, made up a discord the most horrible; while, ever and anon, the police and the crowd were in collision, vain efforts being made to keep the mob back from the front of the jail, whither they had fled as a refuge from the heat of the burning houses.

The fire seemed to spread, defying all the efforts of the engines. From house to house the lazy smoke was seen to issue for a moment, and then, almost immediately after, a new cry would announce that another building was in flames. Meanwhile the smoke, which in the commencement had spread from the courtyard and windows of the jail, was again perceived to thicken in the same quarter, and suddenly, as if from a preconcerted signal, it rolled out from every barred cas.e.m.e.nt and loopholed aperture,--from every narrow and deep cell within the lofty walls; and the agonized yell of the prisoners burst forth at the same moment, and the air seemed to vibrate with shrieks and cries.

"Break open the jail!" resounded on every side. "Don't let the prisoners be burned alive!" was uttered in accents whose humanity was far inferior to their menace; and, as if with one accord, a rush was made at the strongly barred gates of the dark building. The movement, although made with the full force of a mighty mult.i.tude, was in vain. In vain the stones resounded upon the thickly studded door, in vain the strength of hundreds pressed down upon the oaken barrier. They might as well have tried to force the strong masonry at either side of it!

"Climb the walls!" was now the cry; and the prisoners re-echoed the call in tones of shrieking entreaty. The mob, savage from their recent repulse at the gate, now seized the ladders employed by the firemen, and planted them against the great enclosure-wall of the jail. The police endeavored to charge, but, jammed up by the crowd, their bridles in many instances cut, their weapons wrested from them, they were almost at the mercy of the mob. Orders had been despatched for troops; but as yet they had not appeared, and the narrow streets, being actually choked up with people, would necessarily delay their progress. If there were any persons in that vast ma.s.s disposed to repel the violence of the mob, they did not dare to avow it, the odds were so fearfully on the side of the mult.i.tude.

The sentry who guarded the gate was trampled down. Some averred he was killed in the first rush upon the gate; certain it was his cap and coat were paraded on a pole, as a warning of what awaited his comrades within the jail, should they dare to fire on the people. This horrible banner was waved to and fro above the stormy mult.i.tude. Darcy had but time to mark it, when he saw the crowd open, as if cleft asunder by some giant band, and at the same instant a man rode through the open s.p.a.ce, and, tearing down the pole, felled him who carried it to the earth by a stroke of his whip. The red glare of the burning houses made the scene distinct as daylight; but the next moment a rolling cloud of black smoke hid all from view, and left him to doubt the evidence of his eyesight.

"Did you see the horseman?" asked Darcy, in eager curiosity, for he did not dare to trust his uncorroborated sense.

"There he is!" cried the other. "I know him by a white band on his arm.

See, he mounts one of the ladders!--there!--he is near the top!"

A cheer that seemed to shake the very atmosphere now rent the air, as, pressing on like soldiers to a breach, the mob approached the walls.

Some shots were fired by the guard, and their effect might be noted by the more savage yells of the mob, whose exasperation was now like madness.

"The shots have told,--see!" cried the man. "Now the people are gathering in close groups, here and there."