Adventure stories; England -- Social life and customs -- 18th century -- Fiction; Irish -- England -- Fiction
Now his lordship, the great Earl of Westport, spoke, but not to me.
"Drive to the village," he said to the postilions; then horsemen and
carriage clattered down the hill.
We kept watch all that night, but were not molested. In the southern
part of the house Father Donovan found a well-furnished chapel, and
next morning held mass there, which had a very quieting effect on the
men, especially as Oxenbridge had not walked during the night. The
only one of them who did not attend mass was Jem Bottles, who said he
was not well enough and therefore would remain on watch. Just as mass
was finished Jem appeared in the gallery of the chapel and shouted
excitedly:
"They're coming, sir; they're coming!"
I never before saw a congregation dismiss themselves so speedily. They
were at their posts even before Tom Peel could give the order. The
opposing party was leaving the village and coming down the hill when I
first caught sight of them from an upper window. There seemed
somewhere between half a dozen and a dozen horsemen, and behind them a
great mob of people on foot that fairly covered the hillside. As they
crossed the brook and began to come up, I saw that their leader was
young Lord Strepp himself, and Jem whispered that the horsemen behind
him were the very men he had encountered on the road between London
and Maidstone. The cavalry were well in advance, and it seemed that
the amateur infantry took less and less pleasure in their excursion
the nearer they drew to the gloomy old house, so much so that Lord
Strepp turned back among them and appeared to be urging them to make
haste. However, their slow progress may be explained by the fact that
a certain number of them were carrying a huge piece of timber, so
heavy that they had to stagger along cautiously.
"That," said Tom Peel, who stood at my elbow, "is to batter in the
front door and take us by storm. If you give the word, your honour, we
can massacre the lot o' them before they get three blows struck."
"Give command to the men, Peel," said I, "not to shoot any one if they
can help it. Let them hold their fire till they are within fifty yards
or so of the front, then pass the word to fire into the gravel of the
terrace; and when you shoot let every man yell as if he were a dozen,
and keep dead silence till that moment. I'll hold up my hand when I
want you to fire."
There was a deep stillness over all the beautiful landscape. The
bushes and the wood, however, were an exception to this, although the
songs of the birds among the trees and singing of the larks high in
the air seemed not to disturb the silence; but the whole air of the
country-side was a suggestion of restful peace, at great variance with
the designs of the inhabitants, who were preparing to attack each
other.
Father Donovan stood beside me, and I saw his lips moving in prayer;
but his eyes were dancing with irredeemable delight, while his breath
came quick and expectant.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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