My Lords of Strogue, Vol. 2 (of 3): A Chronicle of Ireland, from the Convention to the UnionWingfield, Lewis
History
My Lords of Strogue, Vol. 2 (of 3): A Chronicle of Ireland, from the Convention to the Union
Wingfield, Lewis
Historical fiction; Ireland -- History -- 18th century -- Fiction
His rasping voice was heard presently above the hum in polished
periods, deploring that false reports should so easily be credited;
explaining that the too sensitive Viceroy must be protected from his
own softness, calling for their excellencies' coach without delay.
'Can nothing more be done for Orr? It is too awful!' the junior asked
his chief, clinging to his coat with anxious hands.
'If aught could be done, should I have remained silent?' was the dry
rejoinder.
Then the lawyer bethought him of his child in the crush, and sallied
forth in search of her.
Master Phil, with instinctive respect for a great man, stood aside
when the chancellor made his exit, allowing the cloak-room to be
flooded with eager inquirers. First entered Cassidy and Doreen,
burning to hear news.
Terence roused himself from his reverie, and, clasping a hand of each,
muttered in choking words:
'I have fought against conviction long enough. There are limits to an
honest man's forbearance. Cassidy! I'll take the oath.'
The giant knitted his brows, and, staring at the cornice, whistled.
Doreen darted forth such a golden flash from her cairngorm eyes as
flooded the heart of the tempest-tossed young man with a gleam of
sunshine.
'Oh, cousin!' he murmured. 'You who are my star! Forgive me for having
mistrusted the direction of your guidance! I am easy-going, and not
prone to believe evil. But my eyes are opened now. Ireland's soil is
sick with the blood of centuries. A little while, and please God she
shall bleed no more!'
'Mr. Cassidy!' the girl said, with heaving breast and such a joyous
confusion as prevented her from reading the giant's face, 'did I not
say to you just now that after darkness comes the morning? Surely
night must be at its blackest now, Terence. I take you at your word.
This change is a miracle wrought by heaven in the nick of time to
prevent Theobald's efforts from being frustrated. I see it, and am
grateful. A champion must be tried, you know,' she whispered, smiling,
'and pass through the ordeal which is to prove his faith. I give you
yours at once. It is urgently needful that some one should start
forthwith for France, to act in concert there with Theobald. Can you
make up your mind to this? Yes or no--there is no time for
hesitation.'
Terence, a prey still to overmastering agitation, clasped the brown
hand that was like a leaf in both of his, while the giant's frown was
fixed on one and then the other.
'I told you one day,' the young man whispered, 'that for one reward I
would set at naught the traditions of my family. If I succeed in the
task which you assign to me----'
A shade passed across the sunlight of Doreen's enthusiasm. How
persistently people tried to rehearse love-passages on the floor of
the charnel-house!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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