Kilgorman: A Story of Ireland in 1798

by Talbot Baines Reed

  CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.

  A STEP UP THE LADDER.

  A strange thing befell me as soon as I landed in Dublin. I was prowlingalong the quay, wondering whether I should present myself then and thereat the Admiralty, or take French leave for Donegal while I was free andhad money in my pocket, when I was startled out of my wits by whatseemed to be a veritable ghost in my path. Unless I had been certainthat I was the only survivor out of the ill-starred _Zebra_, I couldhave sworn I saw Mr Felton, the second lieutenant, leaning over therails, watching the dressing of a smart-looking revenue cutter that layout in the water-way. The more I looked the less like a ghost did heappear, until at last I ventured to walk up to him with a salute.

  "Good-morrow, Lieutenant Felton," said I.

  "Captain, if you please," said he, turning round. "What! is that you,Gallagher, or your ghost? I thought I was the only man that saved hislife out of that fated ship."

  "I thought the same of myself, till this moment," said I.

  "I hung on to a cask for close on twenty-four hours, till an Englishlugger picked me up. But I'll tell you of that later. Where do youspring from?"

  "From hospital; I was on Duncan's ship at the battle of Camperdown--"

  "You were! Lucky dog!" interjected he.

  "Where I got a crack in the shoulder, and am only just out."

  "And what are you going to do?"

  "I am going to report myself at the Admiralty, and apply for a berth. Ihave my papers, and a letter from the admiral himself."

  "It strikes me they'll have to build a ship for you," said he, with alaugh; "for, supposing you to be dead, I gave such an extravagantlyglowing account of your conduct on the _Zebra_, that I dare swearthey'll want to make a vice-admiral of you straight away. But what doyou say to serve under me? Just at the time when I called at theAdmiralty they had received a pressing request from the Customs to findthem an officer to take charge of a cutter--there she lies," pointing tothe smart craft he had been inspecting; "and they gave me the offer, andI took it. And I'm on the look-out for a few smart hands, especially afirst officer."

  "Nothing would suit me better," said I, "if I can get the proper step.I'm only a boatswain, you know."

  "That will not be difficult with the papers you have got and yourrecord. At a time like this they are not stiff about promotion,provided they get the proper men. So come along and beard the lions atonce."

  "There's one thing, sir," said I, "that I must do before I can join anyship--I must take a run home to Donegal, to--"

  "Donegal! why, that's where we're ordered to, man. There's a gang ofsmugglers on the coast between Inishowen and Fanad that we've got tocatch; and if that's near your home--"

  "Near!" I exclaimed; "sure it _is_ my home. I know every creek andshoal of the coast in the dark."

  "That settles it," said Captain Felton, thumping me on the back; "youare the man I want, and I'm the man you want. Come away!"

  As he had predicted, my papers, and especially Admiral Duncan's letter,added to the previous favourable reports of Captain Swift and MrFelton, stood me in good stead with the authorities, especially justthen when there was a dearth of men to fill all the vacancies caused bythe war. I was told to call again on the following day, when, to myastonishment, I was handed a commission appointing me a lieutenant inhis Majesty's navy, and a letter of recommendation to the Customs forappointment to the _Gnat_, Captain Felton's cutter.

  With a bound of joy I found myself, by some strange shifting of theluck, a gentleman and an officer after all--humble and poor indeed, butentitled to hold my head with the best; and what was more--and that sentthe blood tingling through my veins--no longer beyond the range of mylittle mistress's recognition as a suitor. A paltry distinction if youwill, and one in name only; for the gentleman is born, not made byAdmiralty warrants; and had I been a cur at heart, no promotion couldhave made me otherwise. But if at heart I was a gentleman, this newtitle gave me the right to call myself one, and opened a door to mewhich till now I had thought fast shut.

  The week that followed was one of busy work; so busy that I had scarcetime to wander through my old haunts in Dublin and notice the air ofsullen mischief which brooded over the city. Men were watched andwatching at every corner, guards were doubled, officials walked abroadonly under escort. This man was pointed out as a leader of the coming"turn-out"--for so they spoke of the rebellion that was to follow--thatwas marked down as a traitor, and walked with the sentence of death inhis hang-dog face. This man was spoken of as one to be got at and wonover; and that was hooted and spat upon as he rode past in his gayequipage amid flying stones, and now and again a bullet out of space,which made him glad enough to retreat into cover. But these lastdemonstrations were less common than the dull, savage air of menacewhich pervaded the place. Something assuredly was going to happen.

  Some said the French were already on their way to Ireland, and thattheir landing was to be the signal for a general rising. Otherswhispered that Lord Edward had his plans ripe for the capture of thecapital, and the setting up of the new Irish republic. Many said allthis suspense was just the sign that no leader was ready to fire themine, and unless the blow was struck soon it would not be struck at all.As to the men in office and the police, they held their peace, sayingnothing, but hearing all.

  I encountered no one I knew, except one man, him who once had stopped meon the steps of the hotel, after my first meeting with Lord Edward, andwho had offered me money for information. To my surprise he now greetedme by name.

  "Good-day, Mr Gallagher; glad to meet you. How go matters in Donegal?and how is Lord Edward?"

  I stared at him in amazement.

  "I have not the honour to know you," said I, walking on.

  But he followed, linking his arm in mine.

  "Come now," said he; "you know me well enough. But be assured you havenothing to fear from me if you are open. Your name is well-known at theCastle as a leader of the conspiracy, and a friend of Lord Edward's. Aword from me, and you would get free board and lodging in Newgate, ifnot a yard or two of rope thrown in; but I have no wish to hurt you.These are dangerous times, though."

  "I tell you, sir," repeated I, "I am not the man you take me for, sokindly address yourself to some one else."

  "Tush!" said he, "what's the use between friends? Tim Gallagher is aswell-known a name as O'Connor's."

  Tim Gallagher! Then they took me for Tim, not myself.

  "And what information is it you want, and for whom?" I demanded, tryingto conceal my curiosity.

  "Turn up here; it's quieter," said he, drawing me into a side street,"and I'll tell you. I've no commission, mind you, but I'll undertake tosay your candour will be worth a couple of hundred pounds in your pocketwithin twenty-four hours."

  "Go on," said I, feeling my toes tingling to kick this man, who couldsuppose Tim Gallagher a common informer.

  "It's known you're lately returned from Paris," said he, "with animportant message from the rebel leaders there, and that that messageconcerns among other things the coming French invasion."

  "Well?"

  "Well! can you ask? It is presumed the leaders in Dublin know your newsby this time, and are making arrangements accordingly. If so, it isworth a couple of hundred pounds to you, as I said, to let me know whatis going forward."

  "And if not?"

  "Simply that a warrant is out for the arrest of Timothy Gallagher, atpresent in Dublin disguised as a naval officer, and it rests with me toput it into motion. So come," said he, halting and facing me, "make upyour mind."

  We had now reached the end of the street, which was a deserted one,backing on the Park. It had been all I could do to keep myself withinbounds and refrain from knocking this contemptible cur on the head.Prudence, and a desire to learn something more about Tim alone hadrestrained me.

  Now that, one way or another, the matter was come to an issue, Ihesitated as to what I should do. Either I might put him off, andinvent a story to please
him, or I might refuse to answer anything, or Imight convince him of his mistake, or I might run for it. In the firstcase, I should be acting unfairly to Tim; in the other cases, I shouldbe risking my own liberty at a time I particularly needed it. Suddenlya fifth course opened before me. At the end of the street was a coach-house, the door of which stood open, and the key on the outside. It hadevidently been left thus by a careless groom, for the place was emptyand no one was in sight.

  Quick as thought I caught my man by the scrag of his neck and pitchedhim head first into the stable, taking time only to say, as I drew tothe door and turned the key. "Take that from Tim Gallagher's brother,you dog!" After which I walked away, leaving him kicking his feet soreagainst the tough timbers.

  I returned straight to the _Gnat_, and told Captain Felton exactly howmatters stood, requesting him to allow me to remain on board till it wastime to sail.

  "Which will be in two days," said he. "I'm sorry, though, you'reafflicted with a scoundrel of a brother. I had the same trouble myselfonce, and know what it is like."

  "Tim's no scoundrel," said I hotly, "though he's on the wrong side.He's a gentleman; and when it comes to that, I've no right to talk ofhim as my brother at all."

  "Well, please yourself," said Captain Felton, who evidently did not careto discuss the matter. "That doesn't concern me, as long as you handlethe _Gnat_ smartly and get into no scrapes yourself. We can't afford tolet private concerns interfere with the king's business."

  Two days later all was ready, and, to my great relief, we weighed anchorand ran out of the bay with a brisk south-easterly breeze. The _Gnat_proved an excellent sailer, and, fitted as she was with ten six-pounders, and manned by a crew of twenty smart hands, she was aformidable enough customer for any smuggler that had to reckon with her.

  We put in at Larne in expectation of getting some news of the marauderswe were in search of, but found none. We were, however, warned to keepour eyes open not only for smugglers, but for foreign craft which weresaid to be at the old business of landing arms for the Ulster rebels,who by all accounts were in a very red-hot state, and longing anxiouslyfor the signal to rise. Indeed, so threatening did things appeargenerally that the authorities gave Captain Felton peremptoryinstructions to allow nothing to stand in the way of his communicatingimmediately to headquarters any intelligence (particularly as to theexpected French landing) with which in the course of his cruise he mightmeet.

  "This puts a boot on our other leg," said the captain to me thatevening, as we watched the sunset light fade over Fair Head. "It seemsto me collecting customs will be the least part of our business. Nevermind. I'd sooner put a bullet into a rebel any day than into a poorbeggar who tries to land a keg of whisky for nothing. Fortune send useither, though!"

  It seemed as if this wish were not without reason; for though we cruisedup and down for a fortnight, watching every bay and creek betweenBallycastle and Sheep Haven, we came upon nothing but honest fishercraft and traders.

  At last, to my relief--for I was growing impatient to hear news of mylittle mistress--Captain Felton bade me run the cutter into LoughSwilly. And knowing my desire, he made an excuse to send me ashore atRathmullan for provisions, bidding me return within three days, unless Iwas signalled for earlier.

  It was a Sunday morning when I found myself once more in the familiarinn at Rathmullan. I soon found that my host, who took little note ofhis customers, did not remember me; and he was civil enough now to oneof his Majesty's lieutenants, and eager to execute my commissions forstores.

  "Faith, sir," said he, "and it's some of us will be glad to see the luckback, for it's gone entirely since the troubles began."

  "You mean the smuggling?" said I, by way of drawing him out.

  "That and other things. These are bad times for honest folk."

  As I knew the fellow to be an arrant harbourer of smugglers and rebels,I took his lamentation for what it was worth.

  "Maybe you're a stranger to these parts, captain," said he presently,giving me another step in the service.

  "I've heard something of them," said I. "I met a young fellow calledGallagher not long since, and he was talking of Lough Swilly."

  "Tim was it, or Barry?" asked the landlord, with interest.

  "Are there two of them, then?"

  "Faith, yes; and one's as black as the other's white. Tim, bless him!is a rale gentleman and a friend to the people."

  "Which means a rebel, I suppose. And what of Barry?"

  "Bedad, he's a white-livered sneak, and he'd best not show his face inthese parts. There's a dozen men sworn to have the life of him."

  I laughed.

  "It must have been Tim I spoke to, then, for he spoke well of you, andsaid you had some excellent rum in your cellar. Maybe he knew moreabout it than the Custom-House, eh?"

  This put mine host in a flutter, and he vouched by all the saints in thecalendar he had not a drop in the house on which he had not paid duty.And as Tim Gallagher had mentioned the rum, would I be pleased to try aglass?

  "Where is this Tim now?" I inquired, when the glasses were brought.

  "'Deed, captain, that's more than I can tell you. He was wanted badlyby the boys here, who chose him their captain for the turn-out that's tobe; but it's said he's abroad on the service of the country, and we'lllikely see him back with the Frenchmen when they come."

  "Ah, you're expecting the Frenchmen, are you? So are we. I may meetthis Tim Gallagher over a broadside yet."

  "If you do, dear help you, for Tim's got a long arm, I warn you."

  As I was about to go, I inquired,--

  "By the way, you have a magistrate living somewhere near here, haven'tyou a Mr Gorman, whom I am to see on business."

  The landlord's face fell.

  "Ay. His honour's house is across the lough yonder at Knockowen. Butyou'll get little value out of him. He's a broken man."

  "How broken?"

  "Arrah, it's a long story. He's run with the hare and hunted with thehounds too long, and there's no man more hated between here and theFoyle. His life's not worth a twopenny-piece."

  "Was he the man whose daughter was carried off?" I asked as innocentlyas I could.

  "Who told you that?" said he, with a startled look. "Not Tim. If ithad been Barry now, the scoundrel, he could have told you more of thatthan any man. Ay, that's he."

  "Did he ever get her back?"

  "'Deed, there's no telling. He says not a word. But he hangs everyhonest man that comes across him. I'd as soon swim from Fanad to Dunaffin a nor'-westerly gale as call up at Knockowen."

  "Well," said I, with a laugh, "get me a boat, for I must see him atonce, and take my chance of a hanging. Give me oars and a sail; I canput myself over."

  So once more I found myself on the familiar tack, with Knockowen a whitespeck on the water-side ahead. What memories and hopes and fearscrowded my mind as I slid along before the breeze! How would his honourreceive me this time? Should I find Knockowen a trap from which Ishould have to fight my way out? Should I--here I laughed grimly--spendthe night dangling at a rope's end from one of the beeches in theavenue? Above all, should I find Miss Kit there, or any news of her?Then I gave myself up to thinking of her, and the minutes passedquickly, till it was time to slip my sheet and row alongside thelanding-stage.

  "Halt! who goes there?" cried a voice.

  "A friend," said I; "first officer of his Majesty's cutter _Gnat_, witha message from the captain to Mr Gorman."

  "Pass, friend," said the sentry, grounding his gun with a clang.

  "Ah," thought I, as I walked up the well-known path, remembering thehalf-hour I had been kept waiting at my last visit, "it's something tobe an officer and a gentleman after all."