The Viceroy glared, and the chancellor bit his lip. Why could not Arthur Wolfe hold his stupid tongue? Lord Clare felt more than ever that this weak-minded friend must be got out of the way somehow. On him, as attorney-general, would of course fall the duties of crown prosecutor. Dear, dear! people seemed to throw obstacles in his way on purpose, as though his task were not entangled enough already! All this considered, these members of the Directory, over whose capture there had been such crowing, seemed disposed to revenge themselves by becoming white elephants. They could not be hanged _en masse_ without creating scandal; it was not even certain that they would be convicted if brought to trial, for against several of their number very little tangible evidence could be brought. Their names on a list--their presence at a meeting. This was not enough. Of course the Battalion could be brought forward with fictitious evidence--but Lord Clare shrank from this, except as a last resource. Besides, they were not to be hanged--that was settled. What then could be done with them? A light punishment, as for a misdemeanour, would drive the Orangemen to madness, who were shouting for blood, after the manner of religious bigots. Petty larceny and high treason could not be placed on the same level. Could not somebody suggest something? 'I have an idea,' mild Arthur Wolfe murmured, as he nervously gnawed a pen. 'Banishment might be proposed to them, on conditions which might be made to look like mutual accommodation. For instance, make them confess their offences and explain the ins and outs of their scheme, in order that it may be guarded against in future. By confession they would show the world that we've not been tilting against windmills. Surely the establishment of the traitorous conspiracy by the testimony of the principal actors in it might be fairly taken as an equivalent for the lives of a few men, without loss of dignity on our part?' The chancellor mused. The notion was ingenious. The Viceroy drew a picture of a gallows on his paper, and gabbled of court-martials in an injured tone. 'Very pretty, but they would not consent,' affirmed Lord Clare, at last. 'I think they would,' returned the attorney-general, blushing. 'In fact, the idea is not mine. Tom Emmett suggested it to me.' 'You've been to see them?' 'Yes. I've been to Kilmainham and to Newgate. It's a shocking sight,' answered Arthur Wolfe, kindling, 'to see decent men loaded with irons, mixed up with thieves, insulted hourly by the low janissaries of Major Sirr! The poor fellows are so shocked at the accounts which reach them, and see so plainly the futility of struggling now, that they would do anything, I think, to stop the effusion of blood.'