The repast was over. The countess was sweeping the crumbs out of her lap preparatory to leaving the gentlemen to the superior attractions of the bottle, when she perceived Cassidy, glass in hand, making his way along to the upper end where she sat enthroned. Doreen perceived him too, and losing all self-control, dropped her head upon the table with a moan. 'Mr. Wolfe Tone, I think?' Cassidy shouted out in his big voice. 'Bedad, ye're welcome home! It's long since we met.' The shade of Banquo broke up with no greater quickness the feast of King Macbeth than did this guileless little speech the party of Lord Glandore. The squireens rose to their feet with one accord; craned out their necks, with jaws dropped and eyes goggling. Hesitating but for a second, Theobald threw down his cards. 'My name is Theobald Wolfe Tone!' he admitted calmly, and stood waiting for what would follow. 'What a pity!' sighed the English admiral; then, holding forth his hand, 'Ignorance is bliss sometimes,' he said, scowling at the importunate giant. 'Ye're a brave young man. I won't say what I think of _him_. I can't help it--can I?' But Cassidy, having assumed his role, was not to be so easily scowled down. 'I've done my duty to his Majesty,' he said, very loud; 'and I call on you, Sir Borlase Warren, to report the fact that I denounced that traitor!' The squireens twittered like scarlet birds. A vanquished foreign brave was one thing, a proscribed rebel--the very head and front of the Directory's offending--quite another. Their temporary gentleness was past; their native savagery bloomed forth again. 'Bind him!' one bawled, 'lest he thry to drown himself, and rob good Mr. Cassidy of the reward.' 'When we get him to Letterkenny,' howled another, 'we'll put irons on him before he starts south. Ah! the spalpeen! the rogue! the beast! the pig!' A chorus of expletives poured forth. Even the presence of Medusa was forgotten. One fetched a rope and bound it roughly round his limbs. With a burst of indignation he turned for protection to the English admiral. 'I wear the uniform of the Great Republic. Let it not be disgraced!' he pleaded. 'I can't help it, poor lad!' returned Sir Borlase, with disgust. 'If you're Wolfe Tone, ye're a subject of Britain, in arms against the King, and will surely suffer as a traitor. As for these ruffians, I am powerless. They, and such as they, have long ago shamed their country and their cloth.' 'Then their bonds,' Theobald answered calmly, as he took off his coat, 'shall never degrade the insignia of the free nation I have served.'