"How do you mean?" said Daly, sternly.

"I mean that a gentleman born and bred as he is, oughtn't to sell his country for goold; that if a blackguard like myself takes to the road, it's all natural and reasonable, and the world's little worse off when they hang half a dozen of my kind; but for a real born gentleman of the old stock of the land to go and take money for his vote in Parliament!"

"And who dares to say he did so?" cried Daly, indignantly.

"Faix, that's the story up in Dublin; they say he 'd no other way of clearing off the debts on his property. Bad cess to me if I 'd do it!

Here I am, a robber and a highwayman, I don't deny it, but may I wear hemp for a handkerchief if I 'd sell my country. Bad luck to the Union, and all that votes for it," said he, as, filling a b.u.mper of whiskey, he tossed it off to this laudable sentiment.

"If you had n't wronged my friend the Knight of Gwynne, I'm not certain that I wouldn't have pledged your toast myself."

"If he 's a friend of yours I say nothing against him; but sure when he--"

"Once for all," said Daly, sternly, "this story is false;" while he added, in a low muttering to himself, "corruption must needs have spread widely when such a calumny was even ventured on.--And so, Freney, Hickman escaped you?"

"He did, sir," said Freney, sighing; "he made a lodgment in Kildare next day, and more of the money he carried up to town, guarded all the way by the two fellows I told you. Ah! Mr. Daly, if all the world was as cunning as old Peter, I might give up the road as a bad job. There! do you hear that? Listen, sir."

"What is it?" said Daly, after a moment's silence.

"They're my nags, sir, coming up the road. I'd know their trot if I heard it among a troop of dragoons. 'T is clippers they are."

As he spoke he arose from the table, and, lighting a small lantern he always carried with him, hastened to the door, where already the two horses were standing, a bare-legged "gossoon" holding the bridles.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 197]

"Well, Jemmy, what 's the news to-night?" said Freney.

"Nothing, sir, at all. I pa.s.sed the down mail at Seery's Mill, and when the coachman heard the step of the horses, he laid on the wheelers wid all his might, and sat down on the footboard, and the two outside pa.s.sengers lay flat as a pancake on the top when I pa.s.sed. I could n't help giving a screech out of me for fun, and the old guard let fly, and sent a ball through my 'caubeen;'" and as he said these words he exhibited his ragged felt hat, which, in addition to its other injuries, now displayed a round bullet-hole through either side.

"Serve you right," said Freney, harshly; "I wish he'd levelled three inches lower. That young rascal, sir, keeps the whole road in a state of alarm that stops all business on it." Then he added, in a whisper, "but he never failed me in his life. I 've only to say when and where I want the horses, and I 'd lay my neck on it he's there."

Daly, who had been for some minutes examining the two horses by the lantern with all the skill of an adept, now turned the light full upon the figure of the boy whose encomium was thus p.r.o.nounced. The urchin, as if conscious that he was pa.s.sing an inspection, set his tattered hat jauntily on one side, and with one arm a-kimbo, and a leg advanced, stood the very perfection of ragged, self-sufficient rascality. Though at most not above fourteen years of age, and short in size even for that, his features had the shrewd intelligence of manhood; a round, wide head, covered with dark red hair, projected over two eyes set wide apart, whose bad expression was ingeniously improved by a habit of squinting at pleasure,--a practice with which he now amused himself, as Mr. Daly continued to stare at him. His nose, which a wound had partly separated from the forehead, was short and wide, leaving an unnatural length to the lower part of the face, where an enormous mouth, garnished with large and regular teeth, was seen,--a feature that actually gave a look of ferocity even to a face so young.

"It's plain to see what destiny awaits that young scoundrel," said Daly, as he gazed almost sadly at the a.s.semblage of bad pa.s.sions so palpably displayed in his countenance.

"I 'd wager the young devil knows it himself, and can see the gallows even now before him."

A wild burst of frantic laughter broke from the urchin as, in the exuberance of his merriment, he capered round Daly with gambols the most strange and uncouth, and then, mimicking an air of self-admiration, he strutted past, while he broke into one of the slang ditties of the day:--

"With beauty and manners to plaze, I 'll seek a rich wife, and I 'll find her, And live like a Lord all my days, And sing, Tally-high-ho the Grinder!"

Freney actually screamed with laughter as he watched the mingled astonishment and horror depicted in Daly's face.

"That fellow's fate will lie heavily on your heart yet," said Daly, in a voice whose solemn tones at once arrested Freney's merriment, while the "gossoon," with increased animation and in a wilder strain, burst forth,--

"My Lord cheats at play like a rogue, And my Lady flings honor behind her; And why wold n't I be in vogue, And sing, Tally-high-ho the Grinder!"

"Come," said Daly, turning away, for, amid all his disgust, a sense of the ludicrous was stealing over him, and the temptation to laugh was struggling in him,--"come, let us be off; you have nothing to wait for, I suppose?"

"Nothing, sir; I'm ready this instant. Here, Jemmy, take this portmanteau, and meet us outside of Maynooth, under the old castle wall."

"Stay," cried Daly, whose misgivings about the safe arrival of his luggage would have made him prefer any other mode of transmission; "he 'll scarcely be in time."

"Not in time! I wish I'd a bet of fifty guineas on it that he would not visit every stable on the road, and know every traveller's name and business, and yet be a good half hour before us. Off with you! Away!"

Diving under the two horses, the "gossoon" appeared at the other side of the road, and then, with a wild spring in the air, and an unearthly shout of laughter, he cleared the fence before him and disappeared, while as he went the strain of his slang song still floated in the air, and the refrain, "Tally-high-ho the Grinder," could be heard through the stillness of the night.

"Take the dark horse, sir; you 're heavier than me," said Freney, as he held the stirrup.

"A clever hack, faith," said Daly, as he seated himself in the saddle, and gathered up the reins.

"And mounts you well," cried Freney, admiring both horse and rider once more by the light before he extinguished the lantern.

The storm had now considerably abated, and they rode on at a brisk pace, nor did they draw rein till the tall ruined castle of Maynooth could be seen, rearing its dark head against the murky sky.

"We part here," said Daly, who for some time had been lost in thought, "and I have nothing but thanks to offer you for this night's service, Freney; but if the time should come that I can do you a good turn--"

"I 'll never ask it, sir," said Freney, interrupting him.

"And why not? Are you too proud?"

"Not too proud to be under any obligation to you," said the robber, stopping him, "but too proud of the honor you did me this night by keeping my company, ever to hurt your fame by letting the world know it.

No, Mr. Daly, I knew your courage well; but this was the bravest thing ever you did."

He sprang from his horse as he spoke, and gave a long, shrill whistle. A deep silence followed, and he repeated the signal, and, soon after, the tramp of naked feet was heard on the road, and Jemmy advanced towards them at his ordinary sling trot.

"Take the trunk up to the town."

"No, no," said Daly, "I'll do that myself;" and he relieved the urchin of his burden, taking the opportunity to slip some crown-pieces into his willing hand while he did so.

"Good-bye, sir," said Freney, taking off his hat with courteous deference.

"Good-bye, Freney," said Daly, as he seized the robber's hand and shook it warmly. "I 'll soon be shaking hands with twenty fellows not a whit more honest," said Daly, as he looked after him through the gloom.

"Hang me if I don't think he's better company, too!" and with this very flattering reflection on some parties unknown, he plodded along towards the town.

Here, again, new disappointment awaited him: a sudden summons had called the members of both political parties to the capital, and horses were not to be had at any price.

"'T is the Lord's marciful providence left him only the one arm," said a waiter, as he ushered Daly into a sitting-room, and cast a glance of most meaning terror at the retiring figure of Sandy.

"What do you mean?" asked Daly, hastily.

"It's what he smashed the best chaise in the yard, as if it was a taycup, this morning. Mr. Tisdal ordered it to be ready at seven o'clock, to take him up to town, and, when it came to the door, up comes that long fellow with his one arm, and says, 'This will do for my master,' says he, and cool and aisy he gets up into the chaise, and sits down, and when he was once there, by my conscience you might as well try to drain the ca.n.a.l with a cullender as get him out again! We had a fight that lasted nigh an hour, and signs on it, there's many a black eye in the stable-yard to show for it; but he beat them all off, and kept his ground. 'Never mind,' said Mr. Tisdal, and he whispered a word to the master; and what did they do, sir, but nailed him up fast in the chaise, and unharnessed the horses, put them to a jaunting-car, and started with Mr. Tisdal before you could turn round."

"And Sandy," cried Daly, "what did he do?"

"Sandy?--av it's that you call him,--a divil a doubt but he's sandy and stony too,--he made a drive at the front panel wid one leg, and away it went; and he smashed open the door with his fist; and put that short stump of an arm through the wood as if it was cheese. 'T is a holy show, the same chaise now! And when he got out, may I never spread a tablecloth if you'd see a crayture in the street: they run in every direction, as if it was the duke's bull was out of the paddock, and it's only a while ago he grew raysonable."

However little satisfactory the exploit was to the innkeeper and his household, it seemed to sharpen Daly's enjoyment of his breakfast, and compensate him for the delay to which he was condemned. The messenger sent to seek for horses returned at last without them, and there was now no alternative but to await, with such patience as he could muster, some chaise for town, and thus reach Dublin before nightfall.