“You 're on a wrong scent this time, O'Reardon; he is no rebel. I wish
he was. I 'd be better pleased than yourself if we could keep him fast
where he is, and never let him leave it.”
“Well, he's out now, and it'll not be so easy to get him 'in' again.”
“How do you mean?--out!”
“I mean he's free. Mr. Balfour came himself with two other gentlemen,
and they took him away in a coach.”
“Where to?”
“That's more than I know.”
“And why was I not kept informed on these matters? My last orders to you
were to write to me daily.”
“I was shut up myself the morning your honor left town. When I swore the
informations they took me off, and never liberated me till this evening
at eight o'clock.”
“You 'll soon find out where he is, won't you?”
“That I will. I 'll know before your honor's up in the morning.”
“And you 'll be able to tell what he's after,--why he is here at all;
for, mind me, O'Reardon, I tell you again, it's not rebellion he's
thinking of.”
“I 'll do that too, sir.”
“If we could only get him out of the country,--persuade him that
his best course was to be off. If we could manage to get rid of him,
O'Reardon,--to get rid of him!” and he gave a fierce energy to the last
words.
“_That_ would be easier than the other,” said the fellow, slyly.
“_What_ would be easier?” cried Sewell, hurriedly.
“What your honor said last,” said the fellow, with a knowing leer, as
though the words were better not repeated.
“I don't think I understand you,--speak out. What is it you mean?”
“Just this, then, that if it was that he was a trouble to any one, or
that he 'd be better out of the way, it would be the easiest thing in
life to make some of the boys believe he was an informer and they 'd
soon do for him.”
“Murder him, eh?”
“I would n't call it murdering if a man was a traitor; nobody could call
that murder.”
“We'll not discuss that point now;” and as he spoke, they came out from
the shade of the avenue into the open space before the door, at which,
late as it was, a carriage was now standing. “Who can be here at this
hour?” muttered Sewell.
“That's a doctor's coach, but I forget his name.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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