Adventure stories; England -- Social life and customs -- 18th century -- Fiction; Irish -- England -- Fiction
There was a scowl on Peel's face that somehow encouraged me, although
I liked the look of the ruffian from the first.
"You're an old friend of his lordship's, then?" said I.
"He has few friends in Rye or about Rye. If you're going to do
anything against Westport, I'll get you a hundred men for nothing if
there's a chance of escape after the fight."
"Nine men will do me, if they're the right stuff. You will have good
cover to sleep under, plenty to eat and drink, and then I expect you
to hold Brede House against all the men the Earl of Westport can bring
forward."
"That's an easy thing," said Peel, his eye lighting up. "And if worse
comes to the worst I know a way out of the house that's neither
through door or window nor up a chimney. Where will I collect your
men?"
"Assemble them on the road to Brede, quietly, about half a mile from
Rye. Which direction is Brede from here?"
"It lies to the west, between six and seven miles away as the crow
flies."
"Very well, collect your men as quickly as you can, and send word to
me at the 'Anchor.' Tell your messenger to ask for The O'Ruddy."
Now I turned back to the tavern sorely troubled what I would do with
Father Donovan. He was such a kindly man that he would be loath to
shake hands with me at the door of the inn, as he had still two or
three days to stop, so I felt sure he would insist on accompanying me
part of the way. I wished I could stop and see him off on his ship;
but if we were to get inside of Brede's House unopposed, we had to act
at once. I found Paddy almost recovered from the assault of the day
before. He had a bandage around his forehead, which, with his red
hair, gave him a hideous appearance, as if the whole top of his head
had been smashed. Poor Paddy was getting so used to a beating each day
that I wondered wouldn't he be lonesome when the beatings ceased and
there was no enemy to follow him.
Father Donovan had not yet appeared, and the fire was just lit in the
kitchen to prepare breakfast, so I took Jem and Paddy with me to the
eating shop of the town, and there a sleepy-looking shop-keeper let us
in, mightily resenting this early intrusion, but changed his demeanour
when he understood the size of the order I was giving him, and the
fact that I was going to pay good gold; for it would be a fine joke on
The O'Ruddy if the Earl surrounded the house with his men and starved
him out. So it was no less than three cartloads of provisions I
ordered, though one of them was a cartload of drink, for I thought the
company I had hired would have a continuous thirst on them, being
seafaring men and smugglers, and I knew that strong, sound ale was
brewed in Rye.
The business being finished, we three went back to the "Anchor," and
found an excellent breakfast and an excellent man waiting for me, the
latter being Father Donovan, although slightly impatient for closer
acquaintance with the former.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account