Tom Burke Of "Ours" Volume Ii Part 53

"Yes; since 1801 I have been a soldier."

"So long? You must have been but a mere boy when you quitted Ireland.

How have they connected you with the troubles of that period?"

I hesitated for a second or two, uncertain what answer, if any, I should return to this abrupt question. A glance at the manly and frank expression of the stranger's face soon satisfied me that no unworthy curiosity had prompted the inquiry; and I told him in a few words, how, as a child, the opinions of the patriotic party had won me over to embark in a cause I could neither fathom nor understand. I traced out rapidly the few leading events of my early career down to the last evening I spent in Ireland. When I came to this part of my story, the stranger became unusually attentive, and more than once questioned me respecting the origin of my quarrel with Crofts, and the timely appearance of Darby; of whose name and character, however, I gave him no information, merely speaking of him as an old and attached follower of my family.

"Since that period, then, you have not been in Ireland?" said he, as I concluded.

"Never: nor had I any intention of returning until lately, when circ.u.mstances induced me to leave the Emperor's service; and from very uncertainty I came back here, without well knowing why."

"Of course, then, you have never heard the catastrophe of your adventure with Crofts. It was a lucky hit for him."

"How so? I don't understand you."

"Simply this: Crofts was discovered in the morning, severely wounded, where you left him; his account being, that he had been waylaid by a party of rebels, who had obtained the countersign of the night, and pa.s.sed the sentry in various disguises. You yourself--for so, at least, I surmise it must have been--were designated the prime mover of the scheme, and a Government reward was offered for your apprehension.

Crofts was knighted, and appointed to the staff,--the reward of his loyalty and courage; of the exact details of which my memory is unfortunately little tenacious."

"And the truth of the occurrence was never known?"

"What I have told you is the only version current. I have reason to remember so much of it, for I was then, and am still, one of the legal advisers of the Crown, and was consulted on the case; of which, I confess, I always had my misgivings. There was a rage, however, for rewarding loyalty, as it was termed at the period, and the story went the round of the papers. Now, I fancy Crofts would just as soon not see you back again; he has made all he can of the adventure, and would as lief have it quietly forgotten."

"But can I suffer it to rest here? Is such an imputation to lie on my character as he would cast on me?"

"Take no steps in the matter on that score: vindication is time enough when the attack is made directly; besides, where should you find your witness? where is the third party who could prove your innocence, and that all you did was in self-defence? Without his testimony, your story would go for nothing. No, no; be well satisfied if the charge is suffered to sleep, which is not unlikely. Crofts would scarcely like to confess that his antagonist was little more than a child; his prowess would gain nothing by the avowal. Besides, the world goes well with him latterly; it is but a month ago, I think, he succeeded unexpectedly to a large landed property."

The stranger, whose name was M'Dougall, continued to talk for some time longer; most kindly volunteered to advise me in the difficult position I found myself; and having given me his address in town, wished me a goodnight and departed.

It was to no purpose I laid my head on my pillow. Tired and fatigued as I was, I could not sleep; the prospect of fresh troubles awaiting me made me restless and feverish, and I longed for day to break, that I might manfully confront whatever danger was before me, and oppose a stout heart to the arrows of adverse fortune. My accidental meeting with the stranger also rea.s.sured my courage; and I felt gratified to think that such _rencontres_ in life are the sunny spots which illumine our career in the world, the harbingers of bright days to come.

This feeling was still more strongly impressed on me as I entered the small room on the ground-floor at the Castle, where was the secretary's office, and beheld M'Dougall seated in an armchair, reading the newspaper of the day. I could not help connecting his presence there with some kindly intention towards me, and already regarded him as my friend. Major Barton stood at the secretary's side, and whispered from time to time in his ear.

"I have before me certain information, sir," said the secretary, addressing me, "that you were connected with parties who took an active part in the late rebellion in this country, and by them sent over to France to negotiate co-operation and a.s.sistance from that quarter,"

(Barton here whispered something, and the secretary resumed), "and in continuance of this scheme are at present here."

"I have only to observe, sir, that I left Ireland a mere boy, when, whatever my opinions might have been, they were, I suspect, of small moment to his Majesty's Government; that I have served some years in the French army, during which period I neither corresponded with any one here, nor had intercourse with any from Ireland; and lastly, that I have come back unaccredited by any party, not having, as I believe, a single acquaintance in the island."

"Do you still hold a commission in the French service?"

"No, sir; I resigned my grade as captain some time since."

"What were your reasons for that step?"

"They were of a purely personal nature, having no concern with politics of any sort; I should, therefore, ask of you not to demand them. I can only say, they reflect neither on my honor nor my loyalty."

"His loyalty! Would you ask him, sir, how he applies the term, and to what sovereign and what government the obedience is rendered?" said Barton, with a half smile of malicious meaning.

"Very true, Barton; the question is most pertinent."

"When I said loyalty, sir," said I, in answer, "I confess I did not express myself as clearly as I intended. I meant, however, that as an Irishman, and a subject of his Majesty George the Third, as I now am, no act of mine in the French service ever compromised me."

"Why, surely you fought against the allies of your own country?".

"True, sir. I speak only with reference to the direct interests of England. I was the soldier of the Emperor, but never a spy under his Government."

"Your name is amongst those who never claimed the indemnity? How is this?"

"I never heard of it; I never knew such an act was necessary. I am not guilty of any crime, nor do I see any reason to seek a favor."

"Well, well; the gracious intentions of the Crown lead us to look leniently on the past. A moderate bail for your appearance when called on, and your own recognizances for the same object, will suffice."

"I am quite willing to do the latter; but as to bail, I repeat it, I have not one I could ask for such a service."

"No relative? no friend?"

"Come, come, young gentleman," said M'Dougall, speaking for the first time; "recollect yourself. Try if you can't remember some one who would a.s.sist you at this conjuncture."

Ba.s.set was the only name I could think of; and however absurd the idea of a service from such a quarter, I deemed that, as my brother's agent, he would scarce refuse me. I thought that Barton gave a very peculiar grin as I mentioned the name; but my own securities being entered into, and a few formal questions answered, I was told I was at liberty to seek out the bail required.

Once more in the streets, I turned my steps towards Ba.s.set's house, where I hoped, at all events, to learn some tidings of my brother. I was not long in arriving at the street, and speedily recognized the old house, whose cobwebbed windows and unwashed look reminded me of former times. The very sound of the heavy iron knocker awoke its train of recollections; and when the door was opened, and I saw the narrow hall, with its cracked lamp and damp, discolored walls, the whole heart-sinking with which they once inspired me came back again, and I thought of Tony Ba.s.set when his very name was a thing of terror to me.

Mr. Ba.s.set, I was told, was at court, and I was shown into the office to await his return. The gloomy little den,--I knew it well, with its dirty shelves of dirtier papers, its old tin boxes, and its rickety desk, at which two meanly-dressed starveling youths were busy writing. They turned a rapid glance towards me as I entered; and as they resumed their occupation, I could hear a muttered remark upon my dress and appearance, the purport of which I did not catch.

I sat for some time patiently, expecting Ba.s.set's arrival, but as the time stole by, I grew wearied with waiting, and determined on ascertaining, if I might, from the clerks, some intelligence concerning my brother.

"Have you any business with Mr. Burke?" said the youth I addressed, while his features a.s.sumed an expression of vulgar jocularity.

"Yes," was my brief reply.

"Wouldn't a letter do as well as a personal interview?" said the other, with an air of affected courtesy.

"Perhaps so," I replied, too deeply engaged in my own thoughts to mind their flippant impertinence.

"Then mind you direct your letter 'Churchyard, Loughrea;' or, if you want to be particular, say 'Family vault.'"

[Ill.u.s.tration: 426]

"Is he dead? Is George dead?"

"That's hard to say," interposed the other; "but they've buried him, that's certain."

Like a stunning blow, the shock of this news left me unable to speak or hear. A maze of confused thoughts crossed and jostled each other in my brain, and I could neither collect myself nor listen to what was said around me. My first clear memory was of a thousand little childish traits of love which had pa.s.sed between us. Tokens of affection long forgotten now rushed freshly to my mind; and he whom a moment before I had condemned as wanting in all brotherly feeling, I now sorrowed for with true grief. The low and vulgar insolence of the speakers made no impression on me; and when, in answer to my questions, they narrated the manner of his death,--a fever contracted after some debauch at Oxford,--I only heard the tidings, but did not notice the unfeeling tone it was conveyed in.

My brother dead! the only one of kith or kindred belonging to me. How slight the tie seemed but a few moments back! what would I not give for it now? Then, for the first time, did I know how the heart can heap up its stores of consolation in secrecy, and how unconsciously the mind can dwell on hopes it has never confessed even to itself. How I fancied to myself our meeting, and thought over the long pent-up affection years of absence had acc.u.mulated, now flowing in a gushing stream from heart to heart I The grave is indeed hallowed when the gra.s.s of the churchyard can cover all memory save that of love. We dwell on every good gift of the lost one, as though no unworthy thought could cross that little mound of earth, the barrier between two worlds. Sad and sorrow-struck, I covered my face with my hands, and did not notice that Mr. Ba.s.set had entered, and taken his place at the desk.

His voice, every harsh tone of which I well remembered, first made me aware of his presence. I lifted my eyes, and there he stood, little changed indeed since I had seen him last. The hard lines about the mouth had grown deeper, the brow more furrowed, and the hair more mixed with gray, but in other respects he was the same. As I gazed at him I could not help fancying that time makes less impression on men of coa.r.s.e, unfeeling mould, than on natures of a finer temper. The world's changes leave no trace on the stern surface of the one, while they are wearing deep tracks of sorrow in the other.

"Insert the advertis.e.m.e.nt again, Simms," said he, addressing one of the clerks, "and let it appear in some paper of the seaport towns. Among the Flemish or French smugglers who frequent them, there might be some one to give the information. They must be able to show that though Thomas Burke--"

I started at the sound of my name. The motion surprised him; he looked round and perceived me. Quick and piercing as his glance was, I could not trace any sign of recognition; although, as he scanned my features, and suffered his eyes to wander over my dress, I perceived that his was no mere chance or cursory observation.