Tom Burke Of Ours, Volume II

by Charles James Lever

  CHAPTER XXXVI. THE PERIL AVERTED

  If I have dwelt with unnecessary prolixity on this dark portion of mystory, it is because the only lesson my life teaches has lain in similarpassages. The train of evils which flows from one misdirection in earlylife,--the misfortunes which ensue from a single false and inconsideratestep,--frequently darken the whole subsequent career. This I now thoughtover in the solitude of my cell. However I could acquit myself of thecrime laid to my charge, I could not so easily absolve my heart of theearly folly which made me suppose that the regeneration of a land shouldbe accomplished by the efforts of a sanguinary and bigoted rabble. Tothis error could I trace every false step I made in life,--to this causeattribute the long struggle I endured between my love of liberty and mydetestation of mob rule; and yet how many years did it cost me to learn,that to alleviate the burdens of the oppressed may demand a greaterexercise of tyranny than ever their rulers practised towards them. Likemany others, I looked to France as the land of freedom; but where wasdespotism so unbounded! where the sway of one great mind so unlimited!They had bartered liberty for equality, and because the pressure wasequal on all, they deemed themselves free; while the privileges of classwith us suggested the sense of bondage to the poor man, whose actualfreedom was yet unencumbered.

  Of all the daydreams of my boyhood, the ambition of military gloryalone survived; and that lived on amid the dreary solitude of my prison,comforting many a lonely hour by memories of the past. The glitteringranks of the mounted squadrons; the deep-toned thunder of the artillery;the solid masses of the infantry, immovable beneath the rush ofcavalry,--were pictures I could dwell on for hours and days, and mydearest wish could point to no higher destiny than to be once more asoldier in the ranks of France.

  During all this time my mind seldom reverted to the circumstances ofmy imprisonment, nor did I feel the anxiety for the result my positionmight well have suggested. The conscious sense of my innocence kept theflame of hope alive, without suffering it either to flicker or vary. Itburned like a steady fire within me, and made even the dark cells of ajail a place of repose and tranquillity. And thus time rolled on: thehours of pleasure and happiness to thousands, too short and flitting forthe enjoyments they brought. They went by also to the prisoner, as toone who waits on the bank of the stream, nor knows what fortune mayawait him on his voyage.

  A stubborn feeling of conscious right had prevented my taking even theordinary steps for my defence, and the day of trial was now drawing nighwithout any preparation on my part. I was ignorant how essential thehabits and skill of an advocate are in the conduct of every case,however simple; and implicitly relied on my guiltlessness, as though mencan read the heart of a prisoner and know its workings. M'Dougall, theonly member of the bar I knew even by name, had accepted a judicialappointment in India, and was already on his way thither, so that I hadneither friend nor adviser in my difficulty. Were it otherwise, I felt Icould scarcely have bent my pride to that detail of petty circumstanceswhich an advocate might deem essential to my vindication; and wasactually glad to think that I should owe the assertion of my innocenceto nothing less than the pure fact.

  When November at length arrived, I learned that the trial had beendeferred to the following February; and so listless and indifferent hadimprisonment made me, that I heard the intelligence without impatienceor regret. The publicity of a court of justice, its exposure to the gazeand observation of the crowd who throng there, were subjects of moreshrinking dread to my heart than the weight of an accusation which,though false, might peril my life; and for the first time I rejoicedthat I was friendless. Yes! it brought balm and comfort to me to thinkthat none would need to blush at my relationship nor weep over my fate.Sorrow has surely eaten deeply into our natures, when we derive pleasureand peace from what in happier circumstances are the sources of regret.

  Let me now hasten on. My reader will readily forgive me if I pass withrapid steps over a portion of my story, the memory of which has not yetlost its bitterness. The day at last came; and amid all the ceremoniesof a prison I was marched from my cell to the dock. How strange thesudden revolution of feeling,--from the solitude and silence of a jailto the crowded court, teeming with looks of eager curiosity, dread, orperhaps compassion, all turned towards him, who himself, half forgetfulof his condition, gazes on the great mass in equal astonishment andsurprise!

  My thoughts at once recurred to a former moment of my life, when I stoodaccused among the Chouan prisoners before the tribunal of Paris. Butthough the proceedings were less marked by excitement and passion, thestern gravity of the English procedure was far more appalling; and inthe absence of all which could stir the spirit to any effort of its own,it pressed with a more solemn dread on the mind of the prisoner.

  I have said I would not linger over this part of my life. I could notdo so if I would. Real events, and the impressions they made uponme,--facts, and the passing emotions of my mind,--are strangely confusedand commingled in my memory; and although certain minute and trivialthings are graven in my recollection, others of moment have escaped meunrecorded.

  The usual ceremonial went forward: the jury were impanelled, and theclerk of the Crown read aloud the indictment, to which my plea of "Notguilty" was at once recorded; then the judge asked if I were providedwith counsel, and hearing that I was not, appointed a junior barristerto act for me, and the trial began.

  I was not the first person who, accused of a crime of which he feltinnocent, yet was so overwhelmed by the statements of imputed guilt,--soconfused by the inextricable web of truth and falsehood, artfullyentangled.--that he actually doubted his own convictions when opposed toviews so strongly at variance with them.

  The first emotion of the prisoner is a feeling of surprise to discover,that one utterly a stranger--the lawyer he has perhaps never seen, whosename he never so much as heard of--is perfectly conversant with hisown history, and as it were by intuition seems acquainted with hisvery thoughts and motives. Tracing out not only a line of acting butof devising, he conceives a story of which the accused is the hero, andinvests his narrative with all the appliances to belief which resultfrom time and place and circumstance. No wonder that the very accusationshould strike terror into the soul; no wonder that the statement ofguilt should cause heart-sinking to him who, conscious that all is notuntrue, may feel that his actions can be viewed in another and verydifferent light to that which conscience sheds over them.

  Such, so far as I remember, was the channel of my thoughts. At firstmere astonishment at the accuracy of detail regarding my name, age,and condition in life, was uppermost; and then succeeded a sense ofindignant anger at the charges laid against me; which yielded graduallyto a feeling of confusion as the advocate continued; which again mergedinto a sort of dubious fear as I heard many trivial facts repeated,some of which my refreshed memory acknowledged as true, but of whichmy puzzled brain could not detect the inapplicability to sustain theaccusation,--all ending in a chaos of bewilderment, where conscienceitself was lost, and nothing left to guide or direct the reason.

  The counsel informed the jury that, although they were not placed in thebox to try me on any charge of a political offence, they must bear inmind, that the murderous assault of which I was accused was merely partof a system organized to overthrow the Government; that, young as I thenwas, I was in intimate connection with the disaffected party which themistaken leniency of the Crown had not thoroughly eradicated on thetermination of the late rebellion, my constant companion being one whosecrimes were already undergoing their but too merciful punishment intransportation for life; that, to tamper with the military, I hadsucceeded in introducing myself into the barrack, where I obtained theconfidence of a weak-minded but good-natured officer of the regiment.

  "These schemes," continued he, "were but partially successful. Mydistinguished client was then an officer of the corps; and with thatever-watchful loyalty which has distinguished him, he determined to keepa vigilant eye on this intruder, who, from circumstances of youth andapparent innoc
ence, already had won upon the confidence of the majorityof the regiment. Nor was this impression a false one. An event,apparently little likely to unveil a treasonable intention, soonunmasked the true character of the prisoner and the nature of hismission."

  He then proceeded to narrate with circumstantial accuracy the night inthe George's Street barracks, when Hilliard, Crofts, and some otherscame with Bubbleton to his quarters to decide a wager between two of theparties. Calling the attention of the jury to this part of the case, hedetailed the scene which occurred; and, if I could trust my memory, nota phrase, not a word escaped him which had been said.

  "It was then, gentlemen," said he, "at that instant, that the prisoner'shabitual caution failed him, and in an unguarded moment developed thefull story of his guilt. Captain Bubbleton lost his wager, of which myclient was the winner. The habits of the service are peremptory in thesematters; it was necessary that payment should be made at once. Bubbletonhad not the means of discharging his debt, and while he looked aroundamong his comrades for assistance, the prisoner steps forward andsupplies the sum. Mark what followed.

  "A sudden call of service now summoned the officers beneath; all saveCrofts, who, not being on duty, had no necessity for accompanying them.The bank-note so opportunely furnished by the prisoner lay on the table;and this Crofts proceeded leisurely to open and examine before he leftthe room. Slowly unfolding the paper, he spread it out before him; andwhat, think you, gentlemen, did the paper display? A Bank of Englandbill for twenty pounds, you'll say, of course. Far from it, indeed! Thepaper was a French assignat, bearing the words, 'Payez au porteur lasomme de deux mille livres.' Yes; the sum so carelessly thrown on thetable by this youth was an order for eighty pounds, issued by the FrenchGovernment.

  "Remember the period, gentlemen, when this occurred. We had justpassed the threshold of a most fearful and sanguinary rebellion,--thetranquillity of the land scarce restored after a convulsion that shookthe very constitution and the throne to their centres. The interferenceof France in the affairs of the country had not been a mere threat; herships had sailed, her armies had landed, and though the bravery and theloyalty of our troops had made the expedition result in utter defeatand overthrow, the emissaries of the land of anarchy yet lingered on ourshores, and disseminated that treason in secret which openly they darednot proclaim. If they were sparing of their blood, they were lavishof their gold; what they failed in courage they supplied in assignats.Large promises of gain, rich offers of booty, were rife throughout theland; and wherever disaffection lurked or rebellion lingered, the enemyof England found congenial allies. Nothing too base, nothing toolow, for this confederacy of crime; neither was anything too lowly incondition or too humble in efficiency. Treason cannot choose its agents;it must take the tools which chance and circumstances offer: they maybe the refuse of mankind, but if inefficient for good, they are not theless active for evil. Such a one was the youth who now stands a prisonerbefore you, and here was the price of his disloyalty."

  At these words he held up triumphantly the French assignat, and waved itbefore the eyes of the court. However little the circumstances weighedwithin me, such was the impression manifestly produced upon the jury bythis piece of corroborative evidence, that a thrill of anxiety for theresult ran suddenly through me.

  Until that moment I believed Darby had repossessed himself of theassignat when Crofts lay insensible on the ground; at least I rememberedwell that he stooped over him and appeared to take something from him.While I was puzzling my mind on this point, I did not remark thatthe lawyer was proceeding to impress on the jury the full force ofconviction such a circumstance implied.

  The offer I had made to Crofts to barter the assignat for an Englishnote; my urgent entreaty to have it restored to me; the arguments I hademployed to persuade him that no suspicion could attach to my possessionof it,--were all narrated with so little of exaggeration that I wasactually unable to say what assertion I could object to, while I wasconscious that the inferences sought to be drawn from them were falseand unjust.

  Having displayed with consummate skill the critical position this paperhad involved me in, he took the opportunity of contrasting the anxiety Ievinced for my escape from my difficulty, with the temperate conductof my antagonist, whose loyalty left him no other course than to retainpossession of the note, and inquire into the circumstances by which itreached my hands.

  Irritated by the steady determination of Crofts, it was said that Iendeavored by opprobrious epithets and insulting language to provokea quarrel, which a sense of my inferiority as an antagonist rendered athing impossible to be thought of. Baffled in every way, I was said tohave rushed from the room, double-locking it on the outside, and hurrieddown the stairs and out of the barrack; not to escape, however, but witha purpose very different,--to return in a few moments accompanied bythree fellows, whom I passed with the guard as men wishing to recruit.To ascend the stairs, unlock the door, and fall on the imprisonedofficer, was the work of an instant. His defence, although courageousand resolute, was but brief. His sword being broken, he was felled by ablow of a bludgeon, and thus believed dead. The ruffians ransacked hispockets, and departed.

  The same countersign which admitted, passed them out as they went; andwhen morning broke the wounded man was found weltering in his blood,but with life still remaining, and strength enough to recount what hadoccurred. By a mere accident, it was stated, the French bank-note hadnot been consigned to his pocket, but fell during the struggle, and wasdiscovered the next day on the floor.

  These were the leading features of an accusation, which, howeverimprobable while thus briefly and boldly narrated, hung together with awonderful coherence in the speech of the lawyer, supported as they wereby the number of small circumstances corroboratory of certain immaterialportions of the story. Thus, the political opinions I professed; thedoubtful--nay, equivocal--position I occupied; the intercourse withFrance or Frenchmen, as proved by the _billet de banque_; my suddendisappearance after the event, and my escape thither, where I continuedto live until, as it was alleged, I believed that years had eradicatedall trace of, if not my crime, myself,--such were the statementsdisplayed with all the specious inferences of habitual plausibility, andto confirm which by evidence Sir Montague Crofts was called to give histestimony.

  There was a murmur of expectancy through the court as this well-knownindividual's name was pronounced; and in a few moments the throng aroundthe inner bar opened, and a tall figure appeared upon the witness table.The same instant that I caught sight of his features he had turned hisglance on me, and we stood for some seconds confronting each other.Mutual defiance seemed the gage between us; and I saw, with a thrillof savage pleasure, that after a minute or so his cheek flushed, and heaverted his face and appeared ill at ease and uncomfortable.

  To the first questions of the lawyer he answered with evidentconstraint, and in a low, subdued voice; but soon recovering hisself-possession, gave his testimony freely and boldly, corroborating byhis words all the statements of his advocate. By both the court andthe jury he was heard with attention and deference; and when he tooka passing occasion to allude to his loyalty and attachment to theconstitution, the senior judge interrupted him by saying,--

  "On that point, Sir Montague, no second opinion can exist. Yourcharacter for unimpeachable honor is well known to the court."

  The examination was brief, lasting scarcely half an hour; and when theyoung lawyer came forward to put some questions as cross-examination,his want of instruction and ignorance were at once seen, and the witnesswas dismissed almost immediately.

  Sir Montague's advocate declined calling any other witness. The regimentto which his client then belonged was on foreign service; but he feltsatisfied that the case required nothing in addition to the evidence thejury had heard.

  A few moments of deliberation ensued among the members of the bench; andthen the senior judge called on my lawyer to proceed with the defence.

  The young barrister rose with diffidence, and expressed in
few words hisinability to rebut the statements that had been made by any evidence inhis power to produce. "The prisoner, my lord," said he, "has confidednothing to me of his case. I am ignorant of everything, save what hastaken place in open court."

  "It is true, my lord," said I, interrupting. "The facts of this unhappycircumstance are known but to three individuals. You have already heardthe version which one of them has given; you shall now hear mine. Thethird, whose testimony might incline the balance in my favor, is, I amtold, no longer in this country; and I have only to discharge the debtI feel due to myself and to my own honor, by narrating the realoccurrence, and leave the issue in your hands, to deal with as yourconsciences may dictate."

  With the steadiness of purpose truth inspires, and in few words, Inarrated the whole of my adventure with Crofts, down to the moment ofDarby's sudden appearance. I told of what passed between us; and howthe altercation, that began in angry words, terminated in a personalstruggle, where, as the weaker, I was overcome, and lay beneath theweapon of my antagonist, by which already I had received a severe anddangerous wound.

  "I should hesitate here, my lords," said I, "before I spoke of one whothen came to my aid, if I did not know that he is already removed bya heavy sentence, both from the penalty his gallant conduct might calldown on him, and the enmity which the prosecutor would as certainlypursue him with. But he is beyond the reach of either, and I may speakof him freely."

  I then told of Darby's appearance that night in the barrack, disguisedas a ballad-singer; how in this capacity he passed the sentry, and waspresent in the room when the officers entered to decide the wager; thathe had quitted it soon after their arrival, and only returned on hearingthe noise of the scuffle between Crofts and myself. The struggle itselfI remembered but imperfectly, but so far as my memory bore me out,recapitulated to the court.

  "I will relate, my lords," said I, "the few events which followed,--notthat they can in any wise corroborate the plain statement I have made,nor indeed that they bear, save remotely, on the events mentioned; butI will do so in the hope,--a faint hope it is,--that in this court theremight be found some one person who could add his testimony to mine, andsay, 'This is true; to that I can myself bear witness.'"

  With this brief preface, I told how Darby had brought me to a house inan obscure street, in which a man, apparently dying, was stretched upona miserable bed; that while my wound was being dressed, a car came tothe door with the intention of conveying the sick man away somewhere.This, however, was deemed impossible, so near did his last hour appear;and in his place I was taken off, and placed on board the vessel boundfor France.

  "Of my career in that country it is needless that I should speak; itcan neither throw light upon the events which preceded it, nor haveany interest for the court My commission as a captain of the ImperialHussars may, however, testify the position that I occupied; while thecertificate of the minister of war on the back will show that I quittedthe service voluntarily, and with honor."

  "The court would advise you, sir," said the judge, "not to advert tocircumstances which, while they contribute nothing to your exculpation,may have a very serious effect on the minds of the jury against you.Have you any witnesses to call?"

  "None, my lord."

  A pause of some minutes ensued, when the only sounds in the court werethe whispering tones of Crofts's voice, as he said something into hiscounsel's ear. The lawyer rose.

  "My task, my lords," said he, "is a short one. Indeed, in allprobability, I need not trouble either your lordships or the jurywith an additional word on a case where the evidence so conclusivelyestablishes the guilt of the accused, and where attempt to contradictit has been so abortive. Never, perhaps, was a story narrated withinthe walls of a court so full of improbable--might I not almost sayimpossible--events, as that of the prisoner."

  He then recapitulated, with rapid but accurate detail, the principalcircumstances of my story, bestowing some brief comment on each as hewent. He sneered at the account of the struggle, and turned the wholedescription of the contest with Crofts into ridicule,--calling on thejury to bestow a glance on the manly strength and vigorous proportionsof his client, and then remember the age of his antagonist,--a boy offourteen.

  "I forgot, gentlemen (I ask your pardon), he confesses to oneally,--this famous piper. I really did hope that was a name we had donewith forever. I indulged the dream, that among the memories of anawful period this was never to recur; but unhappily the expectation wasdelusive. The fellow is brought once more before us; and perhaps, forthe first time in his long life of iniquity, charged with a crime he didnot commit." In a few sentences he explained that a large reward was atthat very moment offered for the apprehension of Darby, who never wouldhave ventured under any disguise to approach the capital, much lesstrust himself within the walls of a barrack.

  "The tissue of wild and inconsistent events which the prisoner hasdetailed as following the assault, deserves no attention at my hands.Where was this house? What was the street? Who was this doctor of whichhe speaks? And the sick man, how was he called?"

  "I remember his name well; it is the only one I remember among all Iheard," said I, from the dock.

  "Let us hear it, then," said the lawyer, half contemptuously.

  "Daniel Fortescue was the name he was called by."

  Scarcely was the name uttered by me, when Crofts leaned back in his seatand became pale as death; while, stretching out his hand, he took holdof the lawyer's gown and drew him towards him. For a second or two hecontinued to speak with rapid utterance in the advocate's ear; and thencovering his face with his handkerchief, leaned his head on the railbefore him.

  "It is necessary, my lords," said the lawyer, "that I should explain thereason of my client's emotion, and at the same time unveil the basenesswhich has dictated this last effort of the prisoner, if not to injurethe reputation, to wound the feelings, of my client. The individualwhose name has been mentioned was the half brother of my client; andwhose unhappy connection with the disastrous events of the year '98involved him in a series of calamities which ended in his death,which took place in the year 1800, but some months earlier than thecircumstance which we now are investigating. The introduction of thisunhappy man's name was, then, a malignant effort of the prisoner toinsult the feelings of my client, on which your lordships and the jurywill place its true value."

  A murmur of disapprobation ran through the crowded court as these wordswere spoken; but whether directed against me or against the comment ofthe lawyer I could not determine; nor, such was the confusion I thenfelt, could I follow the remainder of the advocate's address withanything like clearness. At last he concluded; and the chief justice,after a whispered conversation with his brethren of the bench, thusbegan:--

  "Gentlemen of the jury, the case which you have this day to try, to mymind presents but one feature of doubt and difficulty. The great factfor your consideration is, to determine to which of two opposite andconflicting testimonies you will accord your credence. On the one sideyou have the story of the prosecutor, a man of position and character,high in the confidence of honorable men, and invested with all theattributes of rank and station; on the other, you have a narrativestrongly coherent in some parts, equally difficult to account for inothers, given by the prisoner, whose life, even by his own showing, hasnone of those recommendations to your good opinions which are basedon loyalty and attachment to the constitution of these realms. Bothtestimonies are unsupported by any collateral evidence. The prosecutor'sregiment is in India, and the only witnesses he could adduce are manythousand miles off. The prisoner appeals also to the absent, but withless of reason; for if we could call this man, M'Keown, before us,--if,I say, we had this same Darby M'Keown in court--"

  A tremendous uproar in the hall without drowned the remainder of thesentence; and although the crier loudly proclaimed silence, andthe bench twice interposed its authority to enforce it, the tumultcontinued, and eventually extended within the court itself, where allsemblance of respect seemed s
uddenly annihilated.

  "If this continues one moment longer," exclaimed the chief justice, "Iwill commit to Newgate the very first disorderly person I can discover."

  The threat, however, did but partially calm the disturbance, which, ina confused murmur, prevailed from the benches of the counsel to the verygalleries of the court.

  "What means this?" said the judge, in a voice of anger. "Who is it thatdares to interfere with the administration of justice here?"

  "A witness,--a witness, my lord," called out several voices from thepassage of the court; while a crowd pushed violently forward, and camestruggling onwards till the leading figures were pressed over the innerbar.

  Again the judge repeated his question, while he made a signal for theofficer of the court to approach him.

  "'Tis me, my lord," shouted a deep-toned voice from the middle ofthe crowd. "Your lordship was asking for Darby M'Keown, and it isn'thimself's ashamed of the name!"

  A perfect yell of approval broke from the ragged mob, which now filledevery avenue and passage of the court, and even jammed up the stairsand the entrance halls. And now, raised upon the shoulders of the crowd,Darby appeared, borne aloft in triumph; his broad and daring face,bronzed with sun and weather, glowed with a look of reckless effrontery,which no awe of the court nor any fear for himself was able to repress.

  Of my own sensations while this scene was enacting I need not speak;and as I gazed at the weather-beaten features of the hardy piper, itdemanded every effort of my reason to believe in the testimony of myeyesight. Had he come back from death itself the surprise would scarcelyhave been greater. Meanwhile the tumult was allayed; and the lawyers oneither side--for, now that a glimmer of hope appeared, my advocate hadentered with spirit on his duties--were discussing the admissibilityof evidence at the present stage of the proceedings. This point beingspeedily established in my favor, another and a graver question arose:how far the testimony of a convicted felon--for such the lawyer at oncecalled Darby--could be received as evidence.

  Cases were quoted and authorities shown to prove that such cannot beheard as witnesses,--that they are among those whom the law pronouncesinfamous and unworthy of credit; and while the lawyer continued to pourforth on this topic a perfect ocean of arguments, he was interrupted bythe court, who affirmed the opinion, and concurred in his view of thecase.

  "It only remains, then, my lord," said my counsel, "for the Crown toestablish the identity of the individual--"

  "Nothing easier," interposed the other.

  "I beg pardon; I was about to add,--and produce the record of hisconviction."

  This last seemed a felling blow; for although the old lawyer neverevinced here or at any other time the slightest appearance ofdiscomfiture at any opposition, I could see by the puckering of thedeep lines around his mouth that he felt vexed and annoyed by this newsuggestion.

  An eager and animated discussion ensued, in which my advocate wasassisted by the advice of some senior counsel; and again the point wasruled in my favor, and Darby M'Keown was desired to mount the table.

  It required all the efforts of the various officers of the court torepress another outbreak of mob enthusiasm at the decision; for alreadythe trial had assumed a feature perfectly distinct from any commoninfraction of the law. Its political bearing had long since imparteda character of party warfare to the whole proceeding; and while SirMontague Crofts found his well-wishers among the better dressed and morerespectable persons present, a much more numerous body of supportersclaimed me as their own, and in defiance of all the usages and solemnityof the place, did not scruple to bestow on me looks and even words ofencouragement at every stage of the trial. Darby's appearance was theclimax of this popular enthusiasm. There were few who had not seen,or at least heard of, the celebrated piper in times past. His daringinfraction of the law; his reputed skill in evading detection; hisacquaintance with every clew and circumstance of the late rebellion; theconfidence he enjoyed among all the leaders--had made him a hero in aland where such qualities are certain of obtaining their due estimation.And now, the reckless effrontery of his presence as a witness in a courtof justice while the sentence of transportation still hung over him, wasa claim to admiration none refused to acknowledge.

  His air and demeanor as he took his seat on the table seemed anacknowledgment of the homage rendered him: for though, as he placed hisworn and ragged hat beside his feet, and stroked down his short blackhair on his forehead, a careless observer might have suspected himof feeling awed and abashed by the presence in which he sat, one moreconversant with his countrymen would have detected in the quiet leer ofhis roguish black eye, and a certain protrusion of his thick under lip,that Darby was as perfectly at his ease there as the eminent judge waswho now fixed his eyes upon him. A short, but not disrespectful nod wasthe only notice he bestowed on me; and then concealing his joined handswithin his sleeves, and drawing his legs back beneath the chair, heassumed that attitude of mock humility your least bashful Irishman is socommonly fond of.

  The veteran barrister was meanwhile surveying the witness with thepeculiar scrutiny of his caste: he looked at him through his spectacles,and then he stared at him above them; he measured him from head to foot,his eye dwelling on every little circumstance of his dress or demeanor,as though to catch some clew to his habits of thinking or acting.Never did a matador survey the brawny animal with which he was aboutto contend in skill or strength with more critical acumen than did thelawyer regard Darby the Blast. Nor was the object of this examinationunaware of it; very far from this, indeed. He seemed pleased by thedegree of attention bestowed on him, and felt all the flatterysuch notice conveyed; but while doing so, you could only detect hissatisfaction in an occasional sidelong look of drollery, which, briefand fleeting as it was, had still a numerous body of admirers throughthe court, whose muttered expressions of "Divil fear ye, Darby! butye 're up to them any day;" or "Faix! 't is himself cares little aboutthem!" showed they had no lack of confidence in the piper.

  BrownDarbyInTheChair294]

  "Your name is M'Keown, sir?" said the lawyer, with that abruptnesswhich so often succeeds in oversetting the balance of a witness'sself-possession. "Yes, sir; Darby M'Keown." "Did you ever go by anyother than this?" "They do call me 'Darby the Blast' betimes, av that 'aa name."

  "Is that the only other name you have been called by?" "I misrememberrightly, it's so long since I was among friends and acquaintances; butif yer honor would remind me a little, maybe I could tell." "Well, wereyou ever called 'Larry the Flail?'" "Faix, I was," replied he, laughing;"divil a doubt of it."

  "How did you come by the name of 'Larry the Flail'?"

  "They gave me the name up at Mulhuldad there, for bating one M'Clancywith a flail."

  "A very good reason. So you got the name because you beat a certainM'Clancy with a flail?"

  "I didn't say that; I only said they gave me the name because they saidI bate him."

  "Were you ever called 'Fire-the-Haggard'?"

  "I was, often."

  "For no reason, of course?"

  "Divil a may son. The boys said it in sport, just as they talk of yerhonor out there in the hall."

  "How do you mean,--talk of me?"

  "Sure I heard them say myself, as I was coming in, that you wor a cleverman and a 'cute lawyer. They do be always humbugging that way."

  A titter ran round the benches of the barristers at this speech, whichwas delivered with a naive simplicity that would deceive many.

  "You were a United Irishman, Mr. M'Keown, I believe?" rejoined thecounsel, with a frown of stern intimidation.

  "Yes, sir; and a White Boy, and a Defender, and a Thrasher besides. Iwas in all the fun them times."

  "The Thrashers are the fellows, I believe, who must beat any man theyare appointed to attack; isn't that so?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "So that, if I was mentioned to you as a person to be assaulted,although I had never done you any injury, you 'd not hesitate to waylayme?"

  "No, sir, I
wouldn't do that. I'd not touch yer honor."

  "Come, come; what do you mean? Why wouldn't you touch me?"

  "I' d rather not tell, av it was plazing to ye."

  "You must tell, sir; speak out! Why wouldn't you attack me?"

  "They say, sir," said Darby,--and as he spoke, his voice assumed apeculiar lisp, meant to express great modesty,--"they say, sir, thatwhen a man has a big wart on his nose there, like yer honor, it's notlucky to bate him, for that's the way the divil marks his own."

  This time the decorum of the court gave way entirely, and the unwashedfaces which filled the avenues and passages were all expanded in openlaughter; nor was it easy to restore order again amid the many marks ofapproval and encouragement bestowed on Darby by his numerous admirers.

  "Remember where you are, sir," said the judge, severely.

  "Yes, my lord," said Darby, with an air of submission. "'T is the firsttime I was ever in sich a situation as this. I 'm much more at my easewhen I 'm down in the dock there; it's what I 'm most used to, God helpme."

  The whining tone in which he delivered this mock lament on hismisfortunes occasioned another outbreak of the mob, who were threatenedwith expulsion from the court if any future interruption took place.

  "You were, then, a member of every illegal society of the time, Mr.Darby?" said the lawyer, returning to the examination. "Is it not so?"

  "Most of them, anyhow," was the cool reply.

  "You took an active part in the doings of the year '98 also?"

  "Throth I did,--mighty active. I walked from beyant Castlecomer one dayto Dublin to see a trial here. Be the same token, it was Mr. Curran madea hare of yer honor that day. Begorrah I wonder ye ever held up yer headafter."

  Here a burst of laughter at the recollection seemed to escape Darbyso naturally, that its contagious effects were felt throughout theassembly.

  "You are a wit, Mr. M'Keown, I fancy, eh?"

  "Bedad I 'm not, sir; very little of that same would have kept out ofthis to-day."

  "But you came here to serve a friend,--a very old friend, he calls you."

  "Does he?" said Darby, with an energy of tone and manner very differentfrom what he had hitherto used. "Does Master Tom say that?"

  As the poor fellow's cheek flushed, and his eyes sparkled with proudemotion, I could perceive that the lawyer's face underwent a changeequally rapid. A look of triumph at having at length discovered theassailable point of the witness's temperament now passed over his palefeatures, and gave them an expression of astonishing intelligence.

  "A very natural thing it is, Darby, that he should call you so. You werecompanions at an early period,--at least of his life; fellow-travellers,too, if I don't mistake?"

  Although these words were spoken in a tone of careless freedom, andintended to encourage Darby to some expansion on the same theme, thecunning fellow had recovered all his habitual self-possession, andmerely answered, if answer it could be called,--

  "I was a poor man, sir, and lived by the pipes."

  The advocate and the witness exchanged looks at this moment, in whichtheir relative positions were palpably conveyed. Each seemed to say itwas a drawn battle; but the lawyer returned with vigor to the charge;desiring Darby to mention the manner in which our first acquaintancebegan, and how the intimacy was originally formed.

  He narrated with clearness and accuracy every step of our earlywanderings; and while never misstating a single fact, contrivedto exhibit my career as totally devoid of any participation in thetreasonable doings of the period. Indeed, he laid great stress on thefact that my acquaintance with Charles de Meudon had withdrawn me fromall relations with the insurgent party, between whom and the Frenchallies feelings of open dislike and distrust existed. Of the scene atthe barrack his account varied in nothing from that I had already given;nor was all the ingenuity of a long and intricate cross-examination ableto shake his testimony in the most minute particular.

  "Of course, then, you know Sir Montague Crofts? It is quite clear thatyou cannot mistake a person with whom you had a struggle such as youspeak of."

  "Faix, I'd know his skin upon a bush," said Darby, "av he was like whatI remember him; but sure he may be changed since that. They tell meI'm looking ould myself; and no wonder. Hunting kangaroos wears theconstitution terribly."

  "Look around the court, now, and say if he be here."

  Darby rose from his seat, and shading his eyes with his hand, tooka deliberate survey of the court. Though well knowing, from pastexperience, in what part of the assembly the person he sought wouldprobably be, he seized the occasion to scrutinize the features of thevarious persons, whom under no other pretence could he have examined.

  "It's not on the bench, sir, you need look for him," said the lawyer,as M'Keown remained for a considerable time with his eyes bent in thatdirection.

  "Bedad there's no knowing," rejoined Darby, doubtfully; "av he wasdressed up that way, I wouldn't know him from an old ram."

  He turned round as he said this, and gazed steadfastly towards the bar.It was an anxious moment for me: should Darby make any mistake in theidentity of Crofts, his whole testimony would be so weakened in theopinion of the jury as to be nearly valueless. I watched his eyes,therefore, as they ranged over the crowded mass, with a palpitatingheart; and when at last his glance settled on a far part of the court,very distant from that occupied by Crofts, I grew almost sick withapprehension lest he should mistake another for him.

  "Well, sir," said the lawyer; "do you see him now?"

  "Arrah, it's humbugging me yez are," said Darby, roughly, while he threwhimself down into his chair in apparent ill temper.

  A loud burst of laughter broke from the bar at this sudden ebullition ofpassion, so admirably feigned that none suspected its reality; and whilethe sounds of mirth were subsiding, Darby dropped his head, and placedhis hand above his ear. "There it is, by gorra; there's no mistakingthat laugh, anyhow," cried he; "there's a screech in it might plaze anowl." And with that he turned abruptly round and faced the bench whereCrofts was seated. "I heard it a while ago, but I couldn't say where.That's the man," said he, pointing with his finger to Crofts, who seemedactually to cower beneath his piercing glance.

  "Remember, sir, you are on your solemn oath. Will you swear that thegentleman there is Sir Montague Crofts?"

  "I know nothing about Sir Montague," said Darby, composedly, whilerising he walked over towards the edge of the table where Crofts wassitting, "but I'll swear that's the same Captain Crofts that I knockeddown while he was shortening his sword to run it through Master Burke;and by the same token, he has a cut in the skull where he fell on thefender." And before the other could prevent it, he stretched out hishand, and placed it on the back of the crown of Crofts's head. "There itis, just as I tould you."

  The sensation these words created in the court was most striking,and even the old lawyer appeared overwhelmed at the united craft andconsistency of the piper. The examination was resumed; but Darby'sevidence tallied so accurately with my statement that its continuanceonly weakened the case for the prosecution.

  As the sudden flash of the lightning will sometimes disclose what in thelong blaze of noonday has escaped the beholder, so will convictionbreak unexpectedly upon the human mind from some slight but strikingcircumstance which comes with the irresistible force of unpremeditatedtruthfulness. From that moment it was clear the jury to a man were withDarby. They paid implicit attention to all he said, and made notes ofevery trivial fact he mentioned; while he, as if divining the impressionhe had made, became rigorously cautious that not a particle of hisevidence could be shaken, nor the effect of his testimony weakened byeven a passing phrase of exaggeration. It was, indeed, a phenomenonworth studying, to see this fellow, whose natural disposition was theirrepressible love of drollery and recklessness,--whose whole heartseemed bent on the indulgence of his wayward, careless humor,--suddenlythrow off every eccentricity of his character, and become a steady andaccurate witness, delivering his evidence carefully and cautiousl
y,and never suffering his own leanings to repartee, nor the badgeringallusions of his questioner, to draw him for a moment away from thegreat object he had set before him; resisting every line, every bait,the cunning lawyer threw out to seduce him into that land of fancyso congenial to an Irishman's temperament, he was firm againstall temptation, and even endured that severest of all tests to theforbearance of his country,--he suffered the laugh more than once to beraised at his expense, without an effort to retort on his adversary.

  The examination lasted three hours; and at its conclusion, every factI stated had received confirmation from Darby's testimony, down to themoment when we left the barrack together.

  "Now, M'Keown," said the lawyer, "I am about to call your recollection,which is so wonderfully accurate that it can give you no trouble inremembering, to a circumstance which immediately followed the affair."

  As he got thus far, Crofts leaned over and drew the counsel towardshim while he whispered some words rapidly in his ear. A brief dialogueensued between them; at the conclusion of which the lawyer turned round,and addressing Darby, said,--

  "You may go down, sir; I 've done with you." "Wait a moment," said theyoung barrister on my side, who quickly perceived that the interruptionhad its secret object. "My learned friend was about to ask youconcerning something which happened after you left the barrack; andalthough he has changed his mind on the subject, we on this side wouldbe glad to hear what you have to say."

  Darby's eyes flashed with unwonted brilliancy; and I thought I caughta glance of triumphant meaning towards Crofts, as he began his recital,which was in substance nothing more than what the reader already knows.When he came to the mention of Fortescue's name, however, Crofts, whoseexcitement was increasing at each moment, lost all command over himself,and cried out,--

  "It's false! every word untrue! The man was dead at the time."

  The court rebuked the interruption, and Darby went on.

  "No, my lord; he was alive. But Mr. Crofts is not to blame, for hebelieved he was dead; and, more than that, he thought he took the sureway to make him so."

  These words produced the greatest excitement throughout the court;and an animated discussion ensued, how far the testimony could go toinculpate a party not accused. It was ruled, at last, the evidenceshould be heard, as touching the case on trial, and not immediately asregarded Crofts. And then Darby began a recital, of which I had neverheard a syllable before, nor had I conceived the slightest suspicion.

  The story, partly told in narrative form, partly elicited byquestioning, was briefly this.

  Daniel Fortescue was the son of a Roscommon gentleman of large fortune,of whom also Crofts was the illegitimate child. The father, a manof high Tory politics, had taken a most determined part against thepatriotic party in Ireland, to which his son Daniel had shown himself,on more than one occasion, favorable. The consequence was, a breach ofaffection between them; widened into an actual rupture, by the old man,who was a widower, taking home to his house the illegitimate son, andannouncing to his household that he would leave him everything he couldin the world.

  To Daniel, the blow was all that he needed to precipitate his ruin. Heabandoned the university, where already he had distinguished himself,and threw himself heart and soul into the movement of the "UnitedIrish" party. At first, high hopes of an independent nation,--a separatekingdom, with its own train of interests, and its own sphere of powerand influence,--was the dream of those with whom he associated. Butas events rolled on it was found, that to mature their plans it wasnecessary to connect themselves with the masses, by whose agency theinsurrectionary movement was to be effected; and in doing so, theydiscovered, that although theories of liberty and independence, highnotions of pure government, may have charms for men of intellect andintelligence, to the mob the price of a rebellion must be paid downin the sterling coin of pillage and plunder,--or even, worse, thetriumphant dominion of the depraved and the base over the educated andthe worthy.

  Many who favored the patriotic cause, as it was called, became sodisgusted at the low associates and base intercourse the game of partyrequired, that they abandoned the field at once, leaving to others, lessscrupulous or more ardent, the path they could not stoop to follow. Itwas probable that young Fortescue might have been among these, had hebeen left to the guidance of his own judgment and inclination; for, as aman of honor and intelligence, he could not help feeling shocked at thedemands made by those who were the spokesmen of the people. But thiscourse he was not permitted to take, owing to the influence of a man whohad succeeded in obtaining the most absolute power over him.

  This was a certain Maurice Mulcahy, a well-known member of the variousillegal clubs of the day, and originally a country schoolmaster. Mulcahyit was who first infected Fortescue's mind with the poison of thisparty,--now lending him volumes of the incendiary trash with whichthe press teemed; now newspapers, whose articles were headed, "Orangeoutrage on a harmless and unresisting peasantry!" or, "Another sacrificeof the people to the bloody vengeance of the Saxon!" By these, hisyouthful mind became interested in the fate of those he believed to betreated with reckless cruelty and oppression; while, as he advanced inyears, his reason was appealed to by those great and spirit-stirringaddresses which Grattan and Curran were continually delivering, eitherin the senate or at the bar, and wherein the most noble aspirationsafter liberty were united with sentiments breathing love of country anddevoted patriotism. To connect the garbled and lying statements of adebased newspaper press with the honorable hopes and noble conceptionsof men of mind and genius, was the fatal process of his politicaleducation; and never was there a time when such a delusion was moreeasy.

  Mulcahy, now stimulating the boyish ardor of a high-spirited youth, nowflattering his vanity by promises of the position one of his ancientname and honored lineage must assume in the great national movement,gradually became his directing genius, swaying every resolution andruling every determination of his mind. He never left his victim for amoment; and while thus insuring the unbounded influence he exercised, hegave proof of a seeming attachment, which Fortescue confidently believedin. Mulcahy, too, never wanted for money; alleging that the leaders ofthe plot knew the value of Fortescue's alliance, and were willingto advance him any sums he needed, he supplied the means of everyextravagance a wild and careless youth indulged in, and thus riveted thechain of his bondage to him.

  When the rebellion broke out, Fortescue, like many more, washorror-struck at the conduct of his party. He witnessed hourly scenesof cruelty and bloodshed at which his heart revolted, but to avow hiscompassion for which would have cost him his life on the spot. He wasin the stream, however, and must go with the torrent; and what will notstern necessity compel? Daily intimacy with the base-hearted and thelow, hourly association with crime, and perhaps more than either,despair of success, broke him down completely, and with the blindfatuity of one predestined to evil, he became careless what happened tohim, and indifferent to whatever fate was before him.

  Still, between him and his associates there lay a wide gulf. The tree,withered and blighted as it was, still preserved some semblance of itsonce beauty; and among that mass of bigotry and bloodshed, his natureshone forth conspicuously as something of a different order of being. Tonone was this superiority more insulting than to the parties themselves.So long as the period of devising and planning the movement of aninsurrection lasts, the presence of a gentleman, or a man of birthor rank, will be hailed with acclamation and delight. Let the hour ofacting arrive, however, and the scruples of an honorable mind, or therepugnance of a high-spirited nature, will be treated as cowardice bythose who only recognized bravery in deeds of blood, and know no heroismsave when allied to cruelty.

  Fortescue became suspected by his party. Hints were circulated, andrumors reached him, that he was watched; that it was no time for hangingback. He who sacrificed everything for the cause to be thus accused! Heconsulted Mulcahy; and to his utter discomfiture discovered thateven his old ally and adviser was not devoid of doubt r
egarding him.Something must be done, and that speedily,--he cared not what. Life hadlong ceased to interest him either by hope or fear. The only tie thatbound him to existence was the strange desire to be respected by thosehis heart sickened at the thought of.

  An attack was at that time planned against the house and family of aWexford gentleman, whose determined opposition to the rebel movement hadexcited all their hatred. Fortescue demanded to be the leader of thatexpedition; and was immediately named to the post by those who were gladto have the opportunity of testing his conduct by such an emergency.

  The attack took place at night,--a scene of the most fearful andappalling cruelty, such as the historian yet records among the mostdreadful of that dreadful period. The house was burned to the ground,and its inmates butchered, regardless of age or sex. In the effort tosave a female from the flames, Fortescue was struck down by one of hisparty; while another nearly cleft his chest across with a cut of a largeknife. He fell, covered with blood, and lay seemingly dead. When hisparty retreated, however, he summoned strength to creep under shelter ofa ditch, and lay there till near daybreak, when he was found by anothergang of the rebel faction, who knew nothing of the circumstances of hiswound, and carried him away to a place of safety.

  For some months he lay dangerously ill. Hectic fever, consequent on longsuffering, brought him to the very brink of the grave; and at last hemanaged by stealth to reach Dublin, where a doctor well known tothe party resided, and under whose care he ultimately recovered, andsucceeded at last in taking a passage to America. Meanwhile his deathwas currently believed, and Crofts was everywhere recognized as the heirto the fortune.

  Mulcahy, of whom it is necessary to speak a few words, was soon afterapprehended on a charge of rebellion, and sentenced to transportation.He appealed to many who had known him, as he said, in better times,to speak to his character. Among others, Captain Crofts--so he thenwas--was summoned. His evidence, however, was rather injurious thanfavorable to the prisoner; and although not in any way influencing thesentence, was believed by the populace to have mainly contributed to itsseverity.

  Such was, in substance, the singular story which was now told before thecourt,--told without any effort at concealment or reserve; and to theproof of which M'Keown was willing to proceed at once.

  "This, my lord," said Darby, as he concluded, "is a good time and placeto give back to Mr. Crofts a trifling article I took from him the nightat the barracks. I thought it was the bank-notes I was getting; but itturned out better, after all."

  With that he produced a strong black leather pocket-book, fastened by asteel clasp. No sooner did Crofts behold it, than, with the spring of atiger, he leaped forward and endeavored to clutch it. But Darby was onhis guard, and immediately drew back his hand, calling out,--

  "No, no, sir! I didn't keep it by me eight long years to give it up thatway. There, my lords," said he, as he handed it to the bench, "there'shis pocket-book, with plenty of notes in it from many a one wellknown,--Maurice Mulcahy among the rest,--and you'll soon see who it wasfirst tempted Fortescue to ruin, and who paid the money for doing it."

  A burst of horror and astonishment broke from the assembled crowd asDarby spoke.

  Then, in a loud, determined tone, "He is a perjurer!" screamed Crofts. "Irepeat it, my lord; Fortescue is dead."

  "Faix! and for a dead man he has a remarkable appetite," said Darby,"and an elegant color in his face besides; for there he stands."

  And as he spoke, he pointed with his finger to a man who was leaningwith folded arms against one of the pillars that supported the gallery.

  Every eye was now turned in the direction towards him; while the youngbarrister called out, "Is your name Daniel Fortescue?"

  But before any answer could follow, several among the lawyers, whohad known him in his college days, and felt attachment to him, hadsurrounded and recognized him.

  "I am Daniel Fortescue, my lord," said the stranger. "Whatever may bethe consequences of the avowal, I say it here, before this court,that every statement the witness has made regarding me is true to theletter."

  A low, faint sound, heard throughout the stillness that followed thesewords, now echoed throughout the court; and Crofts had fallen, fainting,over the bench behind him.

  A scene of tumultuous excitement now ensued, for while Crofts's friends,many of whom were present, assisted to carry him into the air, otherspressed eagerly forward to catch a sight of Fortescue, who had alreadyrivalled Darby himself in the estimation of the spectators.

  He was a tall, powerfully-built man, of about thirty-five or thirty-six,dressed in the blue jacket and trousers of a sailor; but neither thehabitude of his profession nor the humble dress he wore could concealthe striking evidence his air and bearing indicated of condition andbirth. As he mounted the witness table,--for it was finally agreedthat his testimony in disproof or corroboration of M'Keown should beheard,--a murmur of approbation went round, partly at the daring step hehad thus ventured on taking, and partly excited by those personal giftswhich are ever certain to have their effect upon any crowded assembly.

  I need not enter into the details of his evidence, which was given ina frank, straightforward manner, well suited to his appearance; neverconcealing for a moment the cause he had himself embarked in, norassuming any favorable coloring for actions which ingenuity and the zealof party would have found subjects for encomium rather than censure.

  His narrative not only confirmed all that Darby asserted, but alsodisclosed the atrocious scheme by which he had been first induced tojoin the ranks of the disaffected party. This was the work of Crofts,who knew and felt that Fortescue was the great barrier between himselfand a large fortune. For this purpose Mulcahy was hired; to this end thewhole long train of perfidy laid, which eventuated in his ruin: forso artfully had the plot been devised, each day's occurrence renderedretreat more difficult, until at last it became impossible.

  The reader is already aware of the catastrophe which concluded hiscareer in the rebel army. It only remains now to be told that he escapedto America, where he entered as a sailor on board a merchantman;and although his superior acquirements and conduct might have easilybettered his fortune in his new walk in life, the dread of detectionnever left his mind, and he preferred the hardships before the mast tothe vacillation of hope and fear a more conspicuous position would haveexposed him to.

  The vessel in which he served was wrecked off the coast of New Holland,and he and a few others of the crew were taken up by an English ship onher voyage outward. In a party sent on shore for water, Fortescue cameup with Darby, who had made his escape from the convict settlement, andwas wandering about the woods, almost dead of starvation, and scarcelycovered with clothing. His pitiful condition, but perhaps more still,his native drollery, which even then was unextinguished, induced thesailors to yield to Fortescue's proposal, and they smuggled him onboard in a water cask; and thus concealed, he made the entire voyage toEngland, where he landed about a fortnight before the trial. Fearful ofbeing apprehended before the day, and determined at all hazards to givehis evidence, he lay hid till the time we have already seen, when hesuddenly came forward to my rescue.

  Mulcahy, who worked in the same gang with Darby, or, to use the piper'sgrandiloquent expression,--for he burst out in this occasionally,--was"in concatenated proximity to him," told the whole story of his ownbaseness, and loudly inveighed against Crofts for deserting him inhis misfortunes. The pocket-book taken from Crofts by Darby amplycorroborated this statement. It contained, besides various memorandain the owner's handwriting, several letters from Mulcahy, detailing theprogress of the conspiracy: some were in acknowledgment of considerablesums of money; others asking for supplies; but all confirmatory of theblack scheme by which Fortescue's destruction was compassed.

  Whatever might have been the sentiments of the crowded court regardingthe former life and opinions of Fortescue and the piper, it was clearthat now only one impression prevailed,--a general feeling of horror atthe complicated villany of Croft
s, whose whole existence had been onetissue of the basest treachery.

  The testimony was heard with attention throughout; no cross-examinationwas entered on; and the judge, briefly adverting to the case whichwas before the jury, and from whose immediate consideration subsequentevents had in a great measure withdrawn their minds, directed them todeliver a verdict of "Not guilty."

  The words were re-echoed by the jury, who, man for man, exclaimed thesewords aloud, amid the most deafening cheers from every side.

  As I walked from the dock, fatigued, worn out, and exhausted, a dozenhands were stretched out to seize mine; but one powerful grasp caught myarm, and a well-known voice called in my ear,--

  "An' ye wor with Boney, Master Tom? Tare and 'ounds, didn't I know you'dbe a great man yet."

  At the same instant Fortescue came through the crowd towards me, withhis hands outstretched.

  "We should be friends, sir," said he, "for we both have suffered from acommon enemy. If I am at liberty to leave this--"

  "You are not, sir," interposed a deep voice behind. We turned and beheldMajor Barton. "The massacre at Kil-macshogue has yet to be atoned for."

  Fortescue's face grew actually livid at the mention of the word, and hisbreathing became thick and short.

  "Here," continued Barton, "is the warrant for your committal. And youalso, Darby," said he, turning round; "we want your company once more inNewgate."

  "Bedad, I suppose there's no use in sending an apology when friends isso pressing," said he, buttoning his coat as coolly as possible; "but Ihope you 'll let the master come in to see me."

  "Mr. Burke shall be admitted at all times," said Barton, with anobsequious civility I had never witnessed in him previously.

  "Faix, maybe you 'll not be for letting him out so aisy," said Darby,dryly, for his notions of justice were tempered by a considerable dashof suspicion.

  I had only time left to press my purse into the honest fellow's hand,and salute Fortescue hastily, as they both were removed, under thecustody of Barton. And I now made my way through the crowd into thehall, which opened a line for me as I went; a thousand welcomes meetingme from those who felt as anxious about the result of the trial as if abrother or a dear friend had been in peril.

  One face caught my eye as I passed; and partly from my own excitement,partly from its expression being so different from its habitualcharacter, I could not recognize it as speedily as I ought to have done.Again and again it appeared; and at last, as I approached the door intothe street, it was beside me.

  "If I might dare to express my congratulations," said a voice, weakfrom the tremulous anxiety of the speaker, and the shame which, real oraffected, seemed to bow him down.

  "What," cried I, "Mr. Basset!" for it was the worthy man himself.

  "Yes, sir. Your father's old and confidential agent,--I might venture tosay, friend,--come to see the son of his first patron occupy the stationhe has long merited."

  "A bad memory is the only touch of age I remark in you, sir," said I,endeavoring to pass on, for I was unwilling at the moment of my escapefrom a great difficulty to lose temper with so unworthy an object.

  "One moment, sir, just a moment," said he, in a low whisper. "You'llwant money, probably. The November rents are not paid up; but there's aconsiderable balance to your credit. Will you take a hundred or two forthe present?"

  "Take money!--money from you!" said I, shrinking back.

  "Your own, sir; your own estate. Do you forget," said he, with amiserable effort of a smile, "that you are Mr. Burke of Cromore, with aclear rental of four thousand a year? We gained the Cluan Bog lawsuit,sir," continued he. "'Twas I, sir, found the satisfaction for the bond.Your brother said he owed it all to Tony Basset."

  The two last words were all that were needed to sum up the measure of mydisgust and I once more tried to get forward.

  "I know the property, sir, for thirty-eight years I was over it. Yourfather and your brother always trusted me--"

  "Let me pass on, Mr. Basset," said I, calmly. "I have no desire tobecome a greater object of mob curiosity. Pray let me pass on."

  "And for Darby M'Keown," whispered he.

  "What of him?" said I; for he had touched the most anxious chord of myheart at that instant.

  "I'll have him free; he shall be at liberty in forty-eight hours foryou. I have the whole papers by me; and a statement to the privy councilwill obtain his liberation."

  "Do this," said I, "and I 'll forgive more of your treatment of me thanI could on any other plea."

  "May I call on you this evening, or to-morrow morning, at your hotel?Where do you stop, sir?"

  "This evening be it, if it hasten M'Keown's liberation. Remember,however, Mr. Basset, I'll hold no converse with you on any other subjecttill that be settled, and to my perfect satisfaction."

  "A bargain, sir," said he, with a grin of satisfaction; and droppingback, he suffered me to proceed.

  Along the quays I went, and down Dame Street, accompanied by a great mobof people, who thought in my acquittal they had gained a triumph. Forso it was; every case had its political feature, and seemed to beintimately connected with the objects of one party or the other.Partisan cheers,--the watchwords of faction,--were uttered as I went,and I was made to suffer that least satisfactory of all conditions,which bestows notoriety without fame, and popularity without merit.

  As I entered the hotel, I recognized many of the persons I had seenthere before; but their looks were no longer thrown towards me with theimpertinence they then assumed. On the contrary, a studied desire toevince courtesy and politeness was evident. "How strange is it!" thoughtI; "how differently does the whole world smile to the rich man and tothe poor!" Here were many who could in nowise derive advantage from myaltered condition,--as perfectly independent of me as I of them; andyet even they showed that degree of deference in their manner which theexpectant bestows upon a patron. So it is, however. The position whichwealth confers is recognized by all; the individual who fills it is butan attribute of the station.

  Life had, indeed, opened on me with a new and very different aspect; andI felt, as I indulged in the daydreams which the sudden possession offortune excites, that to enjoy thoroughly the blessings of independence,one must have experienced, as I had, the hard pressure of adversity. Itseemed to me that the long road of gloomy fate had at length reached itsturning point, and that I should now travel along a calmer and happierpath. Thoughts of the new career that lay before me were blended withthe memories of the past; hopes they were, but dashed with the shadowswhich a blighted affection will throw over the whole stream of life.Still that evening was one of happiness; not of that excited pleasurederived from the attainment of a long coveted object, but the calmerenjoyment felt in the safety of the haven by him who has experienced thehurricane and the storm.

  With such thoughts I went to rest, and laid my head on my pillow inthoughtfulness and peace. In my dreams my troubles still lingered. Butwho regrets the anxious minutes of a vision which wakening thoughtsdispel? Are they not rather the mountain shadows that serve to brightenthe gleam of the sunlight in the plain?

  It was thus the morning broke for me, with all the ecstasy of dangerpassed, and all the crowding hopes of a happy future. The hundredspeculations which in poverty I had formed for the comfort of the poorand the humble might now be realized; and I fancied myself the centre ofa happy peasantry, confiding and contented. It would be hard, indeed,to forget "the camp and the tented field" in the peaceful paths of acountry life. But simple duties are often as engrossing as those of ahigher order, and bring a reward not less grateful to the heart; and Iflattered myself to think my ambition reached not above them.

  The moments in which such daydreams are indulged are the very happiestof a lifetime. The hopes which are based on the benefits we may renderto others are sources of elevation to ourselves; and such motives purifythe soul, and exalt the mind to a pitch far above the petty ambitions ofthe world.

  To myself, and to my own enjoyments, wealth could cont
ribute less thanto most men. The simple habits of a soldier's life satisfied every wishof my mind. The luxuries which custom makes necessary to others I neverknew; and I formed my resolution not to wander from this path of humble,inexpensive tastes, so that the stream of charity might flow the wider.

  These were my waking thoughts. Alas, how little do we ever realize ofsuch speculations! and how few glide down the stream of life unswayed bythe eddies and crosscurrents of fortune! The higher we build the templeof our hopes, the more surely will it topple to its fall. Who shall saythat our greatest enjoyment is not in raising the pile, and our happiesthours the full abandonment to those hopes our calmer reason neverratified?

  As yet it had not occurred to me to think what position the world mightconcede to one whose life had been passed like mine, nor did I bestow acare upon a matter whereon so much of future happiness depended. These,however, were considerations which could not be long averted. How theycame, and in what manner they were met must remain for a future chapterof my history.