The Knight Of Gwynne - Volume I Part 24
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Volume I Part 24

"That same day," resumed the man, "you were walking down the quay near the end of Watling Street, when there was a cry of 'Stop thief!--stop him!--a hundred guineas to the man that takes him!' and shortly after a man crossed the quay, pursued closely by several people, one of them, and the foremost, being Tom Lambert, the constable, the strongest man, they said, of his day, in Ireland. The fellow that ran could beat them all, and was doing it too, when, just as he had gained b.l.o.o.d.y Bridge, he saw a child on the pathway all covered with blood, and a bulldog standing over him, worrying him--"

"I have it all," said Daly, interrupting him; "'tis as fresh before me as if it happened yesterday. The robber stopped to save the child, and, seizing the bulldog by the throat, hurled him over the wall into the Liffey. Lambert, as you call him, had by this time come close up, and was within two yards of the man, when I, feeling compa.s.sion for a fellow that could be generous at such a moment, laid my hand on the constable's arm to stop him; he struck me; but if he did, he had his reward, for I threw him over the hip on the crown of his head, and he had a brain fever after it that almost brought him to death's door. And where were you all this time, and what were you doing?"

"I was down Barrack Street, across the park, and near Knockmaroon Gate, before they could find a door to stretch Tom Lambert on."

"You!" said Daly, staring at him; "why, it was Freney, they told me, performed that exploit for a wager."

"So it was, sir," said the man, standing up and crossing his arms, not without something of pride in his look,--"I'm Freney."

Daly arose and gazed at the man with all that curious scrutiny one bestows upon some remarkable object, measuring his strong, athletic frame with the eye of a connoisseur, and, as it were, calculating the physical resources of so powerful a figure.

"You see, sir," said the robber, at last, "I was right when I told you that you saved my life: there were thirteen indictments hanging over my head that day, and if I 'd been taken they 'd have hanged me as round as a turnip."

"You owe it to yourself," said Daly; "had you not stopped for the child, it was just as likely that I 'd have tripped you up myself."

"'Tis a feeling I never could get over," said the robber; "'twas a little boy, about the same age as that, that saved the Kells coach the night I stopped it near Dangan. And now, sir, let me ask you what in the world brought you into the village of Horseleap? For I am sure," added he with a laugh, "it was never to look after me."

"You are right there, friend; I'm on my way up to town to be present at the debate in Parliament on the Union,--a question that has its interest for yourself too."

"How so, sir?" said the other, curiously.

"Plainly enough, man; if they carry the Union, they'll not leave a man worth robbing in the island. You 'll have to take to an honest calling, Freney,--turn cattle-drover. By the way, they tell me you 're a good judge of a horse."

"Except yourself, there's not a better in the island; and if you 've no objection, I 'll mount and keep you company as far as Maynooth, where you 'll easily get horses--and it will be broad daylight by that time--to bring you into Dublin."

"I accept the offer willingly. I'll venture to say we shall not be robbed on the journey."

"Well, sir, the horses won't be here for an hour yet, and if you 'll join me in a bit of supper I was going to have when you came in, it will help to pa.s.s the time till we are ready to start."

Daly a.s.sented, not the less readily that he had not eaten anything since morning, and Freney left the room to hasten the preparations for the meal.

"Come, Freney," said Daly, as the other entered the room a few moments after, "was it the strength of conscious rect.i.tude that made you stand my fire as you did a while ago, or did you think me so bad a marksman at four paces?"

"Neither, sir," replied the robber, laughing; "I saw the pan of the lock half open as you drew it from your pocket, and I knew the priming must have fallen out; but for that--"

"You had probably fired, yourself?"

"Just so," rejoined he, with a short nod. "I could have shot you before you levelled at me. Now, sir, here's something far better than burning powder. I am sure you are too old a traveller not to be able to eat a rasher of bacon."

"And this I take to be as free of any allegiance to the king as yourself," said Daly, as he poured out a winegla.s.s-ful of "poteen" from a short black bottle.

"You 're right, sir," said Freney, with a laugh. "We 're both duty free.

Let me help you to an egg."

"I never ate better bacon in my life," said Daly, who seemed to relish his supper with considerable gusto.

"I'm glad you like it, sir. It is a notion of mine that Costy Moore of Kilc.o.c.k cures a pig better than any man in this part of Ireland; and though his shop is next the police-barracks, I went in there myself to buy this."

Daly stared, with something of admiration in his look, at the man whose epicurism was indulged at the hazard of his neck; and he pledged the robber with a motion of the head that betokened a high sense of his daring. "I've heard you have had some close escapes, Freney."

"I was never taken but once, sir. A woman hid my shoes when I was asleep. I was at the foot of the Galtee mountains: the ground is hard and full of sharp shingle, and I could n't run. They brought me into Clonmel, and I was in the heaviest irons in the jail before two hours were over. That's the strong jail, Mr. Daly; they 've the best walls and the thickest doors there I have ever seen in any jail in Ireland. For,"

added he, with a sly laugh, "I went over them all, in a friendly sort of a way."

"A kind of professional tour, Freney?"

"Just so, sir; taking a bird's-eye view of the country from the drop, because, maybe, I would n't have time for it at another opportunity."

"You 're a hardened villain!" said Daly, looking at him with an expression the robber felt to be a finished compliment.

"That's no lie, Mr. Daly; and if I wasn't, could I go on for twenty years, hunted down like a wild beast, with fellows tracking me all day, and lying in watch for me all night? Where we are sitting now is the only spot in the whole island where I can say I 'm safe. This is my brother's cabin."

"Your brother is the same man that opened the door for me?"

Freney nodded, and went on: "He's a poor laboring man, with four acres of wet bog for a farm, and a young woman, in the ague, for a wife, and if it was n't for myself he 'd be starving; and would you believe it, now, he 'd not take to the road for one night--just one single night--to be as rich as the Duke of Leinster; and here am I"--and, as he spoke, his chest expanded, and his dark eyes flashed wildly--"here am I, that would rather be on my black mare's back, with my holsters at the saddle, watching the sounds of wheels on a lonely road, than I 'd be any gentleman in the land, barring your own self."

"And why me?" said Daly, in a voice whose melancholy cadence made it solemn as a death-bell.

"Just because you 're the only man I ever heard tell of that was fond of danger for the fun of it. Did n't I see the leap you took at the Black Lough, just to show the English Lord-Lieutenant how an Irish gentleman rides, with the rein in your mouth, and your hands behind your back?

Isn't that true?"

Daly nodded, and muttered, "I have the old horse still."

"By the good day! I 'd spend a week in Newgate to see you on his back."

"Well, Freney," said Daly, who seemed not disposed to encourage a conversation so personal in its allusions, "where have you been lately?--in the South?"

"No, sir; I spent the last fortnight watching an old fox that doubled on me at last,--old Hickman, of Loughrea, that used to be."

"Old Hickman!--what of him?" cried Daly, whose interest became at once excited by the mention of the name.

"I found out, sir, that he was to be down here at Kildare to receive his rents,--for he owns a fine estate here,--and that, besides, Tom Gleeson, the great agent from Dublin, was to meet him, as some said, to pay him a large sum of money for the Knight of Gwynne,--some heavy debt, I believe, owing for many a year."

"Yes, go on. What then?"

"Well. I knew the reason Hickman wanted the money here: Lord Tyrawley was going to sell him a part of Gore's Wood, for hard cash--d 'ye mind, sir, hard cash--down on the nail, for my Lord likes high play at Daly's--"

"D----n Lord Tyrawley!" said Daly, impatiently. "What of Hickman?"

"Well, d----n him too! He's a shabby negur. I stopped 'him at Ball's Bridge once, and got but three guineas and some shillings for my pains.

But to come back to old Hickman: I found he had arrived at the 'Black Dog,' and that Gleeson had come the same evening, and so I disguised myself like an old farmer the next morning, and pretended I wanted his advice about an asthma that I had, just to see the lie of the old premises, and whether he was alone, or had the two bailiffs with him, as usual. There they were, sir, sure enough, and well armed too, and fresh hasps on the door, to lock it inside, all secure as a bank. I saw these things while the old doctor was writing the prescription, for he tore a leaf out of his pocket-book to order me some stuff for the cough,--faith, 't is pills of another kind they 'd have given me if they found me out. That was all I got for my guinea in goold, not to speak of the danger;" and, so saying, he pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, and held it out towards Daly. "That's not it, sir; 't is the other side the writing is on."

But Daly's eyes were fixed upon the paper, which he held firmly between both hands.

"Ay, I see what you are looking at," said Freney; "that was a kind of memorandum the old fellow made of the money Gleeson paid him the day before."

Daly paid no attention to the remark, but muttered half aloud the contents of the doc.u.ment before him: "Check on Ball for eighteen thousand, payable at sight,--thirty-six thousand eight hundred and ten pounds in notes of the Bank of England,--gold, seventeen hundred guineas."

"There was a lob," cried Freney, as he rubbed his hands together. "I was set up for life if I got half of it! And now, Mr. Daly, just tell me one thing: isn't Mr. Darcy there as bad as myself, to take all this money for his vote?"