CHAPTER VII.
SUSPENSE.
Doreen was a fine subject, truly, for matrimonial scheming! Sara,faithful little nurse, hovered round her bed while she battledwith delirium--spoke words of encouragement to Lord Kilwarden, whowatched his daughter's state with grief. What was the use of all histrimming--his cautious steering--his dallying with Apollyon, if shefor whose sake alone he desired wealth and titles was beyond caringfor the treasures of this life? But the fond father's prayerswere answered. Her splendid constitution soon brought her back tohealth--she was not one of those who die broken-hearted; but it wassoon manifest to all who watched her that she, like Terence, looked onher life as done. She spent her time in watching the boats on DublinBay--aware, in hazy fashion, of Sara's prattle. She asked after TomEmmett and the others, as one might after old friends who are crippledfor life--who are labouring under some incurable malady. Terence spentmany moments of placid enjoyment, conversing with his cousin in thelittle bedroom which overlooked the rosary; but neither ever spoke aword of love. The brief interval of freedom was speeding quick away.The works at Fort George were progressing rapidly. A very few weeksand the prisoners would depart, to begin a new existence in a howlingwilderness. She told him her plans, with such details as he mightponder over in his solitude, promising to carry them out to the letteras a sacred duty, in order that he might calculate with certainty whatshe was doing at such and such an hour. The notion of taking the veilwas in a calmer moment given up. What need to take the veil? Whatdifference could a vow make to one whose heart was dead? Her vigorousenergy must find scope; in tending others she would forget herself.She would, thanks to Lord Kilwarden's savings, play the Lady Bountifulin Dublin, for the benefit of the sufferers from the Reign of Terror.Scarce a family of the lower class but the yeomanry had left theirbrand on it. Fatherless children--widowed wives--cried out from theVale of Tears. Sure, those who were taken--who had been shot down likedogs or had perished under torture in the Riding-school--were betteroff than they, if their end was to be starvation in a gutter! LordKilwarden murmured that it should be as she wished. She should returnand live with him in town, and do with his money as she listed. Thesubject of the union interested Doreen deeply. She could talk of itwithout rancour as a thing that was inevitable. Her life was donebecause that of Mother Erin was over, and of her faithful sons. So shediscussed the prospects of the union as she would have discussed afuneral. Kilwarden and his child were not agreed upon the subject. Herfather, after serious deliberation, was in favour of the measure, andthus expressed himself, while Curran, pretending to be buried in abook, sniffed and hemmed.
'Events,' he said, 'have clearly shown how unstable is our nature.Only twenty years ago we showed a serried front, and were as one inthe cause of freedom; but a little wedge was inserted--and see! Towhat an end we've come! For we have come to an end--there is no usediscussing that. The one drop of satisfaction which is given to us inthe goblet of gall is that an assembly will vanish into space whichhas reached the lowest depth of human degeneracy. Its members--as allEurope knows--consider the station they hold as a portion of privateproperty, not as a public trust. The scorn of Lord Cornwallis is notundeserved.'
To this Curran objected with vehemence: 'My good friend! is that areason why your union should answer? You cannot glue two pieces ofboard together unless the joint be clean. You cannot unite two menindissolubly, unless the cement be virtue. How then two countries,between which rolls a sea of blood more wide than the Atlantic?'
But Arthur Lord Kilwarden had followed events with a keen scrutiny,and none were more appalled than he at the way the senate had jiggedto my Lord Clare's piping. 'Whichever way,' he affirmed sadly, 'youlook at the proceedings of your parliament, the sight is equallydistressing. If the English parliament could be convinced that ourinterests are really bound up with theirs, they would come to look onus in time as part and parcel of themselves, instead of treating uslike savages. Indeed, the Irish Lords and Commons are showing clearlythat the English estimate of them is the right one. Practically theirbirthright is disposed of. It is merely a matter of terms.
Then Curran murmured doleful things about the extinction of the Irishname and the days of the Round Towers, and the parties, as usual,agreed to differ.
There was one side of the matter which was gratifying to Doreen,namely, the conduct of her own people. The Viceroy was undisguisedlyin favour of inserting in this Union Bill a clause for the abrogationof the penal statutes; but, as might have been expected, the Kingdashed his pen through it. The Catholics emancipated indeed?Fiddle-de-dee! Never, while that large-minded monarch should survive.His stupidity produced a hitch. Then the Catholic lords cameforward--there were but seven--and begged that state interests shouldbe consulted before that of their own faith. The effect produced wasgood, for the dignity of the situation lay not with stupid George.Although they seemed to be sacrificing themselves unduly, yet theyscored one in the eyes of Europe, and public opinion decided thattheir attitude of noble neutrality would reap its reward ere long.Doreen was glad of this, although for her part she would wish tostruggle against union to the last. If it must take place, it must;but she agreed with Terence that eternal obloquy would be theportion of those who were responsible for the end. It was withdissatisfaction, then, that she listened to his tidings about Shane.It was by an accident, due to the involuntary influence of his youngerbrother, that he escaped degradation at the first voting? This wasterrible news! The duty of the younger man was plainly written, shepointed out with a spark of her old animation. Before withdrawing toconsummate his martyrdom, he must speak earnestly, seriously, to themisguided earl--implore him on his knees, if need were, not todisgrace the name which had descended unsullied from Sir Amorey. 'Ifyou show him,' she said, 'the chasm into which he is about to fall,his better instincts will drag him back. Neither his vanity noravarice must be played on by the chancellor for the furtherance ofthat wicked end.
Terence replied that not only had he no influence over his brother,but that the latter might be goaded by his interference into doingprecisely that which they all deprecated, out of spite. It would bebetter to trust to Providence. 'How can I bid him not disgrace thefamily?' he concluded, gently smiling. 'Would he not retort that Ihave done worse than he can do, by placing my neck within the halter?'
There was something in this, certainly, Doreen admitted. But it wasnot a moment for petty vanity--it was a time for general humiliation.Terence must humble himself to bear meekly the taunts of LordGlandore, content in that he was doing his duty. In the solitude ofFort George it would be a comforting episode to dwell upon--instead ofbrooding always over Erin's death-throes.
One evening, at this point of the discussion, which was renewed againand again before Terence could make up his mind to risk a storm,blonde Sara, who, sitting hard by, was wont to listen to pros and conswhich dazed her in respectful silence, laid down her needle, andstartled the disputants by saying, 'Are you quite sure that she is inher death-throes?'
Doreen patted her arm as you might that of a precocious child, andsaid, with her moonlit smile, 'Have you a doubt, dear Sara?'
'I have no opinion,' responded the simple maid; 'but Robert does notthink so, and he knows.'
The curiosity of her listeners was aroused. The ardent youngenthusiast was about to return, in spite of Curran's wishes to thecontrary, to take a last look at Tom ere he sailed away. What werethese opinions of his that imparted so grandmotherly an air to thegentle Primrose?
'I've had another letter,' quoth the sapient maiden. 'He doesn't agreewith you at all. Hark. He says: "Notwithstanding the darkness of ourprospect, I seem to see a light. We must rise to the level of thesituation, as our fathers did in '82. We are unworthy of the name ofnation if by combination we cannot frustrate the Sassanagh's designs.Other and better men have pioneered the way; be mine the brightresult: there shall be no union. The more I see of the English, themore I detest them. In coffee-houses they elbow me
to the wall. If Iwere a red Indian they could not treat me and my country with greaterdisdain!"'
The idea that her Robert was not appreciated imbued the maid with suchindignation as sat in comical fashion on her sweet, soft features. Thehearts of both those who looked at her yearned towards this fragileflower. They had been strong and sturdy, yet were they utterly undone.Was this girl to pass, too, under the yoke? Doreen, in a gush ofcompassion, seized her slight figure in her arms and strained it toher breast, murmuring, as she did so, 'No, child; oh no, no! Not youtoo! Surely the pyre is piled high enough; the smoke of it blackensthe heavens. The land is drenched; it can drink no more. Write to him,my dearest, and adjure him not to hope. Write and forbid his coming.'
Both Terence and Doreen were painfully aware that the element ofsedition was dormant, not conquered. They were convinced, too, thatthe struggle was useless--were ready to bow to the consummation ofLord Clare's strategy, provided that they might stand aloof from amongthe traitors. If it were useless, why renew the struggle? Why help tobring upon the land again the horrors of the Hurry? Both Terence andDoreen saw through the cloak of Robert's mysterious words, though Saraapparently did not. Yet surely he could not be so utterly distractedas to intend again to raise the standard of revolt? The whole aspectof the case was changed since '98. Napoleon was too much bent onContinental laurels to allow France to think of Ireland. Money wasscarce; merchants cautious; the people cowed. The Presbyterians wereirritated by the Wexford massacre; the Catholics indignant at thesupposed desertion of the northerners. A pretty time to think offlying to arms! No; Robert could not be so mad. But what did he mean,then? Was his combination to be a bloodless contest, such as wasbrought to a successful issue by the Volunteers? Combination,forsooth! It was not possible for Irishmen ever to combine for morethan a few minutes together. Sara evidently had no notion that herRobert could imply a resort to arms, or she would not be purring inthis kittenish fashion. As it was, she shook off the embrace of herdear friend, and was very angry in that she showed anxiety to keepRobert away, now that all danger to his sacred head, was past. Shewaxed exceeding wroth, begging to know why Doreen presumed to questionRobert's wisdom; then, scalded by her own tears, she drooped into thearms of the older girl, registering a desire to be dead--a petitionwith which Heaven has been wearied by natives of Ireland time out ofmind.
'I will see to her,' Doreen whispered. 'Now, do you go down, _toplease me_, Terence. You will never regret having done your best toturn Glandore. If you succeed, what blessed visions will paint thewalls of your prison-cell! Go and speak seriously to Shane, for allour sakes.'
Terence pressed his cousin's hand and promised. If it was his fate tolanguish through a long life on the cold crags of Moray Firth, thatplacid air of calm, the light of those solemn eyes, should soothe himto the last upon his pilgrimage. He was greedily laying up a store ofprecious memories. The time was growing very short. Orders must comevery soon for that final parting. Whate'er befel, he promised himselfto follow to the end his guiding star. Heaven would inspire him withwords which should save his brother from himself. Doreen was right, asshe always was. He strolled leisurely across to the stable-yard toinquire whether my lord had returned from hunting.
My Lords of Strogue, Vol. 3 (of 3) Page 7
