iS^f^Zxr:::::-^ 
 
 i 
 
LIBRARY 
 
 OF THK 
 
 University of California. 
 
 Class 
 
t) 
 
 \ r 
 
THE 
 
 TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
FROUDE'S WORKS. 
 
 History of England, from the Fall of Wolsey to the Death 
 
 of Elizabeth. Twelve vols., i2mo, gilt top, . . $18.00 
 
 The English in Ireland in the Eighteenth Century. Three 
 
 \ols., i2mo, ......... 4.50 
 
 Short Studies on Great Subjects. Four vols. i2mo. Per 
 
 vol., 1.50 
 
 Life and Tinnes of Thonnas Becket. i2mo, paper, .50 
 
 Caesar. A Sketch. 121110, gilt top, 1.50 
 
 Luther. A Short Biography. Cloth. 75 cts. Paper, . . .30 
 
 Thonnas Carlyle. Library Edition. Four vols., 8vo, . . 8.00 
 
 Cheaper Edition. Two vols., 121110, .... 3.00 
 
 Jane Welsh Carlyle. Letters and Memorials of. Library 
 
 Edition. Two vols., 8vo, ...... 4.00 
 
 Cheaper Edition. One vol., 12010, .... 1.50 
 
 Thonnas Carlyle. Reminiscences by. Svo 2.50 
 
 Cheaper Edition. i2mo, ...... 1.50 
 
 Oceana. England and Her Colonies. Illus. Crown Svo, . 1.75 
 
 The English in the West Indies; or. The Bow of Ulysses. 
 
 Illus. Crown Svo, 1.75 
 
THE 
 
 TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY 
 
 OR 
 
 AN IRISH ROMAN'CE OF THE LAST 
 
 J. A. FROUDE 
 
 Under which King, Beaonian? Speak, or die. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
 1889. 
 
 \Authors Edition^ 
 
All rights reserved. 
 
 Press of J. J. Little & Co., 
 Astor Place, New York, 
 
J ^ 
 
 s 
 
 I 
 
 THE 
 
 TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 On the right bank of the Loire, two miles below the 
 town of Nantes, there stood in the middle of the last 
 century the extensive premises of the firm of Messrs. 
 Blake and Delany, Irish exiles who had been 
 naturalized in France, and were carrying on a large 
 business there as merchants and ship owners. The 
 relations between the great countries of Europe were 
 generally unsettled. The normal condition was war. 
 In the intervals of nominal peace the seas continued 
 insecure. The privateer of one year glided by an 
 easy transition into the pirate of the next, and the 
 pirate when war broke out again recovered by a letter 
 of marque his position as a legitimate belligerent. 
 The traders had to depend upon themselves for the 
 defence of their property. Their ships went armed, 
 and the yards where they were fitted out wore the 
 appearance of naval arsenals. The enterprises of 
 Messrs. Blake and Delany might be inferred from 
 the aspect of their stores to have been of an excep- 
 tionally dangerous character. The river side, where 
 
 I 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY, 
 
 their establishment was carried on, had been embanked 
 for several hundred yards ; the ground had been 
 levelled, large warehouses had been erected over the 
 water, and barges and larger vessels lay at the 
 wharves and quays below them to be loaded and 
 unloaded by projecting cranes. Rows of solid stone 
 buildings ran up over the area behind, shaded by 
 acacias and chestnut trees. In the intervals were 
 sheds and workshops containing sea-stores, chains 
 and anchors, spars, cables, canvas, and the miscel- 
 laneous requirements of vessels intended for ocean 
 voyages ; while an acre or more was littered with 
 guns and cannon balls piled into pyramids. An 
 isolated structure, apart from the rest, was evidently a 
 powder magazine ; and at half-a-dozen forges in an 
 engine-house, workmen were busy making or repair- 
 ing muskets and pistols, or hammering out sword 
 blades and boarding pikes. 
 
 At the time when our story opens, business was 
 in full activity. Large ships were moored alongside 
 the jetties — others, evidently belonging to the same 
 owners, were anchored outside in the river, whose 
 white painted but weather-stained hulls showed that 
 they had returned from distant expeditions in the 
 tropic seas, while coasting smacks, sloops and luggers 
 spoke of a trade near at home which could be no 
 less considerable. Mr. Blake, the chief owner and 
 manager, for Mr. Delany was but a sleeping partner, 
 furnihhed an instance — one among many to be ob- 
 served at that epoch — of what an Irishman could 
 do when transplanted from the land of his birth. His 
 father had been a gentleman of property in the county 
 of Galway. He was a Catholic and a patriot. He 
 had fought at Aghrim, and had caught St. Ruth in 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 3 
 
 his arms when the fatal cannon shot which killed the 
 French General decided the fate of Ireland. He had 
 retired upon his property, when the campaign was 
 over, being protected as he supposed by the Articles of 
 Limerick and Galway : but these Articles required the 
 consent of Parliament ; and receiving that consent 
 only in a mutilated form, they proved but a weak 
 defence. His estates were forfeited, and like so many 
 of the bravest of his countrymen, he fled to France, 
 became an active officer in the Irish Brigade, rose into 
 favour with the French Government, and won fame 
 and rank in the wars of the Low Countries. The hope 
 of his life had been that he might one day land again 
 in his own country at the head of his regiment, and 
 try conclusions once more with the ancient enemy. 
 More than once his wish seemed likely to be gratified. 
 In 1708 especially, when a Stuart rising was intended in 
 Scotland, an expeditionary force from France was to 
 have been thrown simultaneously into Galway. But the 
 project came to nothing, and in the year following 
 General Blake died, leaving little money behind him, 
 but bequeathing to his son Patrick a name which he 
 had made distinguished, and the favour of the Courts 
 of St. Germains and of Versailles, which had appre- 
 ciated his worth and his services. 
 
 Patrick Blake, thrown on his own resources at 
 the age of twenty, was taken charge of at first by 
 his father's friends, and was provided with his first 
 opportunities. He received a commission, but he dis- 
 played talents in another direction, which opened to 
 him a more promising career. Being accidentally 
 employed in some commissariat contract, he showed a 
 practical aptitude for business which was not to be 
 neglected. In other transactions of a similar kind he 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 was equally successful, carrying them through with 
 rapidity and success. His patriotism was as ardent 
 as his father's ; but his eye was keen, and he dis- 
 cerned that there were ways of assisting Ireland's 
 cause, in which he could combine his country's 
 interest with his own. He became the agent of the 
 Irish Brigade. He set on foot the organization for 
 recruiting the young Catholics who were impatient of 
 English rule, collecting them under the name of wild- 
 geese, and bringing them over into the French service 
 to learn their trade as soldiers. He was employed in 
 dispatching and recommending the French officers 
 who were sent over from time to time into Galway 
 and Kerry to keep alive the national hopes. While 
 thus engaged he discerned, in the unfortunate com- 
 mercial policy which destroyed the Irish woollen 
 manufactures, an opportunity for disorganizing the 
 Irish administration, of combining all classes and all 
 creeds there, peasant and landlord. Catholic and Pro- 
 testant, in a league to defeat an unjust law, and while 
 filling the pockets of his countrymen to build up his 
 own fortune at the same time. Irish wool, at the open- 
 ing of the last century, was supposed to be the most 
 excellent in the world, and commanded the highest 
 prices in the natural market. The English woollen 
 manufacturers, afraid of being beaten out of the field 
 if the Irish were permitted to compete with them, 
 persuaded the Parliament to lay prohibitory duties on 
 Irish blankets and broad cloth, which crushed the 
 production of these articles. Not contented with pre- 
 venting the Irish from working up their fleeces at home, 
 they insisted that the Irish fleeces should be sold in 
 England only, and at such a price as would be con- 
 venient to themselves. The natural price, which the 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 5 
 
 French were willing to pay, was three or four times 
 higher — and the effect was a premium upon smug- 
 gling, which no human nature, least of all Irish human 
 nature, could be expected to resist. The temptation 
 was evident to every one, and in all parts of Ireland a 
 contraband trade sprung up of itself — but Blake was 
 the first person who saw the opportunity of develop- 
 ing it into a system, and combining interest with 
 patriotism. He commenced operations with a country- 
 man who furnished the necessary capital. He was so 
 successful that, before the century had half run its 
 course, four-fifths of the Irish fleeces were carried 
 underhand into France, in spite of English laws 
 and English cruisers. Irish lawlessness for once 
 had justice on its side, and flourished like a green 
 bay tree. Patrick Blake became the wealthiest mer- 
 chant on the Loire, and his gains were sweetened 
 by the sense that they were the spoils of the op- 
 pressors. As he grew into a man of consequence, 
 his ambition grew along with it. The wool cargoes 
 were first paid for in specie. The amount of gold 
 and silver carried out of France in consequence, drew 
 the attention of the Government. The remedy was 
 easy. The business had only to be further extended. 
 The vessels that had brought the wool returned loaded 
 with brandy and claret. The revenue suffered a 
 further wound, and the corruption and demoraliza- 
 tion spread from farm-house to castle. Neither Peer 
 nor Squire cared to pay duty on his Bordeaux or 
 his Cognac, when he could have his cellars filled for 
 him at half price, if he cared to ask no unnecessary 
 questions. High and low became accomplices in an 
 all-spreading fraud. And this was not all. His busi- 
 ness brought Blake into a secret and confidential 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 correspondence with men of all ranks in all parts of 
 Ireland. His vessels continued to carry the wild- 
 geese. Being famous for speed, they were chosen by 
 the Bishops and unregistered Priests whose presence in 
 their own country was forbidden by law, and who had 
 therefore to avail themselves of irregular opportunities. 
 Transactions of this kind passed into politics. His 
 relations with the Court of the Pretender had continued. 
 When the French Government wished to disturb 
 England at home, it was through Blake that they 
 communicated with the disaffected Irish Catholics. 
 He became involved gradually in the conspiracies and 
 intrigues of the time, and when Charles Edward went 
 to Scotland in 1745, Patrick Blake not only provided 
 the brig in which he sailed, but himself accompanied 
 the Prince to the point where he landed, and fetchea 
 him back ac^ain after his defeat, at the end of his 
 wanderings in the Highlands. The Scotch adventure 
 had been undertaken against the advice of Blake, 
 who would have preferred that his own country should 
 be the scene of the first attempt of the Pretender to 
 recover his throne. Neither the disaster in which it 
 ended, nor the peace of Aix, which followed three 
 years after, had moderated his enthusiasm or quenched 
 his energy. The contraband trade and the exporta- 
 tion of wild-geese went on merrily as ever, and Patrick 
 at the age of sixty was still thriving and prosperous, 
 extending his legitimate commerce beyond the 
 Atlantic and into the other hemisphere, sending out 
 privateers to carry on depredations among the Eng- 
 lish colonies, and amidst all his other interests never 
 ceasing to scheme and plot to give the Saxon invader 
 an uncomfortable time of it in Ireland. In the midst 
 of his disappointment at the conclusion of the peace, 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 7 
 
 he could console himself with perceiving that year by- 
 year the Protestant Establishment was growing weaker, 
 that the fast-spreading anarchy was more fatal to 
 English authority and influence than the bloodiest 
 defeat in the field, that slowly but surely his own 
 people were recovering their hold on their own land. 
 
 The ship yards and the buildings connected with 
 the working establishment covered several acres. At 
 one end of them, and divided from the business 
 premises by a high wall and a plantation of trees, 
 was Mr. Blake's own residence. It was a solid 
 chateau, designed and erected by himself, on a scale 
 which corresponded with the position which he had 
 arrived at. Being a merchant prince, he chose to be 
 lodged like a prince, and his house was like a wing of 
 the Royal Palace at Blois. From the central door, a 
 wide flight of steps led into a garden two acres in 
 extent, which stretched down to the river, and was 
 divided by straight gravelled walks. The beds were 
 brilliant with flowers, exotics many of them, brought 
 home for him by intelligent captains of his own ships. 
 American aloes, then strangers in Europe, flung up 
 their tall yellow spires, oleanders waved their pink 
 and white blossoms in the wind, acacias of all kinds 
 threw patches of shade upon the paths. In the centre 
 of the grounds was a circular basin into which sea 
 monsters, carved in marble, poured streams of water : 
 a fountain threw showers of spray, and blue water- 
 lilies shone among the broad leaves which the drops 
 sprinkled as they fell. Mr. Blake was luxurious in his 
 horticulture, and spared neither expense nor study to 
 secure plants which were curious as well as beautiful. 
 Among the lilies, of which, as an adopted child of 
 France, he had an endless variety, one only was 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 excluded. His gardener, who observed that there 
 was a missing specimen, had rashly introduced an 
 orange lily among its sister tribes. He had been 
 rewarded by a cataract of oaths in such genuine Gal- 
 way vernacular, that although he lost the sense of 
 half the execrations which were hurled upon him, the 
 bewildered wretch discovered that he had committed 
 a fatal offence. The hated emblem of Protestant 
 ascendancy was torn out of the soil, and was hurled 
 ignominously over the walls into the tide-way. 
 
 On the river side the garden was bounded by a 
 terrace, which extended along the entire length of 
 it from end to end. This terrace was Mr. Blake's 
 favourfte walk, commanding as it did a fine view up 
 and down the Loire. A parapet wall three feet high, 
 and covered with roses and jessamines, kept off the 
 wind, and protected careless wanderers from danger 
 of falling into the water. At intervals old ships' 
 cannon had been mounted, rather for ornament than 
 use, and at either end a flight of boat-stairs descended 
 to the water side. Terrace, walks, and flower beds 
 were kept in scrupulous order by three or four 
 negroes, part of some privateer's spoils, who were 
 admonished practically by something sharper than 
 words, if dead blossoms, or weeds, or fallen leaves 
 were observed where they ought not to be. 
 
 CHAPTER H. 
 
 One morning, late in the summer of 175 — , the 
 owner of all this wealth and sumptuosity was pacing 
 the terrace with some impatience, watching the 
 movements of a brigantine which had just come in 
 with the tide from the sea, and was taking up her 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 9 
 
 moorings some two hundred yards distant from him. 
 He was a strongly built old gentleman, with a face 
 seamed and tanned by work and weather — but other- 
 wise apparently little the worse for the sixty years 
 which had rolled him along his busy life-way. He 
 was loosely dressed in a purple, square-cut coat, which 
 had seen service like its wearer ; originally it had 
 been of rich material, and was trimmed with gold 
 lace, but the braiding was tarnished by exposure and 
 the cloth stained and spotted with salt-water, A 
 long flapped waistcoat, breeches of black velvet and a 
 pair of long sailors' boots, made the rest of his cos- 
 tume. Round his waist was a leather belt, intended 
 for a sword, with which, however, he had not cared to 
 encumber himself, being content with a silver-headed 
 cane which was attached to his wrist. From his flap 
 pockets there projected the butts of a pair of pistols, 
 which he had thrust into them from force of habit, but 
 could not expect to have occasion for. On his head 
 he had an old three-cornered hat, with the remains in 
 it of a ragged ostrich feather. A whistle hung round 
 his neck by a cord, in which the thumb of his left 
 hand was mechanically slung. In his right was a 
 spy-glass, through which he was rather anxiously 
 examining the deck of the brigantine, as if he missed 
 something there which he expected to find. 
 
 The crew of the vessel had brought her sharply 
 round to the buoy. The topsails were clewed up ; 
 the mainsail lowered, and a boat was dropped from 
 the davits. A rough-looking seaman stepped into the 
 stern-sheets from the gangway, and was rowed in to 
 the stairs, at the head of which Blake was standing 
 to receive him. 
 
 " You are late, Dennis," he said, as the man came 
 
lo THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY, 
 
 up to meet him, " you are late. We looked for you 
 three days ago. You have a heavy cargo I see by 
 your water-line, but where are your passengers ? 
 Where are the wild-geese, and where are the two 
 French officers that were coming back with you ? I 
 see nothing of either." 
 
 " Well, your honour," answered the man whom he 
 called Dennis, " I don't know in the world what has 
 come to the boys. The could water has got into the 
 hearts of them. I suppose it is the peace that done 
 it. After Fontenoy, as your honour knows, they were 
 as plenty as swallows in the Spring. They were all 
 racing like to be at the next bating of the red coats. 
 The prettiest lads that ever wore uniform came about 
 us at that time for their passage. There was young 
 Mr. Burke, of Rhinvile, and young Bodkin, and a 
 dozen more of them, fighting which should have the 
 first turn. But the peace that is made has taken the 
 life out of them entirely, and old and young are lying 
 by to see what comes of it. 'Twas said they had 
 word from Paris to be keeping quiet just now — and 
 for the officer gentlemen you speak of, I have seen 
 nothing of them, good or bad." 
 
 " Hum ! " said Blake. " They might have judged 
 that I knew what was fit for them. You can put no 
 sense into a fool's head, beat it how you will. You 
 have only your lading then — well, and what has 
 delayed you on )-our way ? " 
 
 " Is it dela\', your honour ? Sure, I've brought your 
 ship safe home, and fine value in the inside of her. 
 That should be enough, any way. It is God's mercy 
 that we are here at all. Glory to His Holy name." 
 
 " Why, the weather has been well enough," Blake 
 said impatiently, " and the wind well in the west. 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOV. ii 
 
 What has been the matter? Tell me shortly." He 
 had been long enough out of Ireland to be less patient 
 of the roundabout ways by which his countrymen 
 come to their point. 
 
 " Well, your honour, we had a little trouble down at 
 the Seven Stones. The Dolphin, that is the big 
 cutter they have at Penzance just now, gave us a chase, 
 and we had to slip away at the back of the Islands." 
 
 " The Dolphin I " said Blake. " And what was the 
 Dolphin wanting, that she should be meddling with 
 you ? I thought the cruisers were off the station ? 
 The peace you speak of is tender just yet, and, till 
 it has hardened a bit, the English are careful of 
 meddling with the French flag in those waters, see it 
 where they will. What ailed you, to run from her, 
 man ? If ye had none on board but yourselves, they 
 might have searched you till they were tired of it. 
 As to the cargo, if they don't see it, they don't look 
 for it — and the ocean is as free to us as to them." 
 
 " I'll tell your honour how it was," Dennis answered. 
 " Your honour speaks nothing but the truth about 
 the cargo. I have two hundred tons of wool on 
 board, but it is all screwed away into pork and butter 
 barrels, and washed over with brine. They could 
 have made nothing of it, unless they had broken into 
 the casks, and they wouldn't be doing that. If they 
 had wit to think of it, we would have found the 
 means to make it easy with them. But when I told 
 your honour I hadn't the company with me that you 
 were looking for, I did not tell you that I had none. 
 There was a gentleman along with me, that was afraid 
 if they saw him it might be a little unpleasant." 
 
 " Oh, I understand you," said Blake. " You have 
 one of the holy bishops with you — or one of the 
 
12 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 fathers that are on the mission. You should have 
 brought him on shore, that I might pay my respects 
 to his reverence." 
 
 " A bishop or a priest is it," laughed Dennis. " A 
 mighty quare Father of the Church Mr. Sylvester 
 would be making. I thought best to leave him where 
 he was till I had seen your honour, but you shall see 
 and spake with him yourself I'll tell you how it was. 
 The gentleman had rason to think that if the British 
 Government had their hands upon him, there would 
 trouble come of it. He would be stopped on his 
 journey any way, and sorry we'd all be that it should 
 so happen, for there was much depending on it. The 
 wind was up to the North-west, and the Dolphin was 
 reaching out between us and the Land's End. I had 
 not seen the vessel yet that could touch the brig- 
 antine close hauled and in a sea way, so I thought I 
 would just fetch round the Islands out of the road. 
 May the Divil have the soul of the shipwright that 
 laid the keel of her. I had a four miles' start, and she 
 came up with us as if we had all the weeds in the 
 tropics growing on the bottom of us. The wind was 
 blowing half a gale. The Islands were under our lee, 
 and with the sea raging upon the rocks. The cutter 
 lay outside a mile to windward of us, waiting till we 
 tacked or went ashore, for that was all the choice she 
 thought we had. Mr. Sylvester w^as taking to his 
 prayers, it was time he should if all is true that is 
 towld of him. But just then we came off the opening 
 of Tresco, your honour will mind the place, where 
 Cromwell's ould Castle stands ; 'tis a blind harbour 
 with no second road out of it, and if you are caught 
 there, you are like a rat in a trap ; but there was no 
 choice for us if we didn't mean to go on the rocks, 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY, 13 
 
 for we could not weather the west point, so we up 
 with the helm and ran in through the breakers. A 
 narrow channel it is, and a foul bottom to it, none 
 knows better than your honour, and the waves were 
 boiling all across so that it was hard to see where the 
 passage was. In we went any way, and the cutter at 
 the heel of us. She didn't like the look of it, but she 
 thought where we could go she could go. Them craft 
 are well enough in the open water, but under the 
 cliffs where the squalls come any way their big spars 
 and heavy sails are ill to handle. The pilot did not 
 know his business, the Lord be praised for it. A 
 stroke of wind came the wrong way for him and 
 gibed his mainsail, the back stays went, the peak 
 halyard went, and all in a mess together she drove 
 on a sunk rock. She would not be moving out of 
 that for some hours at the least of it, if they got her 
 off at all. So seeing how it was, and as there was a 
 bit of slant in the breeze, we just turned about and 
 went out again close under her stern. She gave us a 
 shot, which cut a splinter out of the mainmast, but 
 we were out of range before she could clear a second 
 gun. I kept off to sea, for I didn't want to fall iji 
 with any more such company. We lost a day or two, 
 but here we are, the Lord be praised for it, and here is 
 the cargo, and it is worth a thousand pounds to your 
 honour this day, and that is the laste of it." 
 
 " That is a fair account of yourself, Denny, my man," 
 said Blake, whose sharp ways made his praise the 
 more valued by those who received it. " You did a 
 smart bit of work, and never fear we will remember 
 it to you. I suppose I know who you mean by your 
 Mr. Sylvester. I have seen honester faces than his in 
 my time, and I could have spared the sight of him 
 
14 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 again. We shall Irarn by-and-bye what brings him 
 here just now. But how are matters going in 
 Galway ? " 
 
 " The country is well enough — never better. The 
 houghers have made a clean sweep of Sir Walter 
 Talbot's cattle, and the Scotch drover that came in 
 and took the land that's on the lakes has found a bad 
 bargain. The King's writ has not yet run in Conne- 
 mara. Devil a Sheriff's officer has served a warrant 
 in the land your honour came from, and never shall, 
 please God." 
 
 " The Protestants have hold of the estates for all 
 tliat," said Blake, gloomily, " and are likely to keep 
 them for all that I see to the contrary." 
 
 " They have lost the hould on Galway town any- 
 way," answered Dennis. " Barring the Mayor and 
 Aldermen that has to swear that they are Protestants 
 when they take office, and sure they mane it no more 
 than your honour would, there are not half a dozen 
 of the heretic blackguards left in the place, that is 
 the truth ; and for the Acts of Parliament, they just 
 laugh at them. Now and then they are frightened 
 like up in Dublin, and they swear they will clear the 
 Catholics out and bring in a colony of black Protes- 
 tants like the Ulster lads. There was a fine scare in 
 the '45 when your honour and the Prince went to 
 Scotland, and the French Fleet was to have come to 
 Galway. They set up schools, and they put the 
 Friars out that were coming to the ould Abbeys, and 
 they shut up the chapels. But what was the use of 
 that ? Ye may clip the aigle's wing, but unless ye 
 break the joint the feathers grow again. The Friars 
 are in again, God bless them, and there is a house for 
 the sisters too inside the walls. The childher wouldn't 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 15 
 
 » ~ 
 
 go to the Protestant school, so the Corporation sold 
 the school-room, and the Priest says Mass where it 
 stood. We are doing well, by the mercy of God, and 
 we will see the day yet when your honour will have 
 your own again." 
 
 " I heard," Blake said, " that the Government 
 meant to make Galway into a garrison town. Some 
 Colonel or other was to go there and take command 
 of the place. The walls were to be built up again, 
 and there was to be martial law." 
 
 " That is true, your honour," answered Dennis, 
 " they did so mane it, as long as the war lasted and 
 they were afraid of the French. But Lord ! what 
 they do one day they ravel out the next, like an 
 ould stocking. Your honour would laugh to see 
 it all. In the years before the '45 the land had 
 gone to sleep, and the Castle had gone to ruin, and 
 the poor people were taking the stones of the city 
 walls to fence their potato gardens. The roof of the 
 Protestant Church fell in, and when some of thim 
 craturs they call Dissenters would have had a Meet- 
 ing-house, the Protestant Bishop of Tuam that was 
 come down and put them out of it. The poor 
 soldiers in the garrison would have had no one to 
 care for their souls, but that our priests had pity on 
 them and made them into Christians. The Corpora- 
 tion were all our own people. Devil a sounder 
 Catholic in Ireland than Mr. O'Hara, the Mayor, 
 Lord Tyrawley's footman that was. If he dirtied 
 his mouth with a bit of an oath on taking office, 
 wasn't the Holy Church there to make it clane 
 for him ? The rivenue fellows considered that when 
 the country was not allowed an honest trade it was no 
 business of theirs to gather King George's customs 
 
i6 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 for him. So your honour's vessels and them from 
 Spain loaded and unloaded at Galway Quay in the 
 broad daylight, and never a question asked of them 
 good or bad." 
 
 Dennis it seemed liked to hear himself talk, and 
 Blake became rather impatient. " I know all that," 
 he said. " I want to know what has happened 
 since." 
 
 "Well," answered Dennis, "I'll tell your honour. 
 'Twas Fontenoy first gave them the fright, and they 
 said in the Parliament, and it was a true word for 
 them among all the lies that are spoken in that place, 
 that the French were coming to Galway. French 
 officers they said were about among the people, and 
 half the country would be up and marching upon 
 Dublin. So after they had put the Scots down the 
 turn came for Connaught. Your honour will mind 
 ould Colonel Eyre, him that got the lands that be- 
 long to your honour, where your honours lived and 
 reigned since the Danes built Galway town. The 
 Colonel ye will remember was Governor of Galway 
 forty years back, a sharp and cruel lad he was, and 
 the Eyres are a cruel race. Well, the Colonel left a 
 son behind him as like his father as a young wolf is 
 like an ould one." 
 
 " That is so," said Blake, " as I have reason to 
 know. The young Eyre you speak of was at Cul- 
 loden with the Butcher Cumberland. It was he, and 
 another officer, Goring the man was called, that 
 chased the Prince so hardly after the battle, and 
 caught Sheridan and Morty Sullivan who were on 
 the Prince's staff. They escaped, and it was well 
 they did, or they would have been shot the next 
 I have a mark in my books against that 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 17 
 
 gentleman, to be remembered one day. But what 
 about him now ? " 
 
 *' Well, your honour, the Duke had an esteem 
 for Mr. Eyre, for the reason your honour mentions. 
 He was a bould lad, as it were like he would be with 
 the Connemara blood in the veins of him. So the 
 Duke considering that Galway was lying open for 
 the French to come in, just appointed him to the 
 place his father held before him. 
 
 " Down they sent him to Galway with a fresh regi- 
 ment of red coats, and sorrow there was in town and 
 country the day he came among us. He was the 
 boy that would bring us all into order, as he called it. 
 
 " He calls up the Mayor and Aldermen, and makes 
 them swear them ugly oaths over again, and bring 
 their account books and show what they had 
 done with King George's money, as if honest men 
 were to be put to trouble for them dirty English. 
 Galway, says he, was a garrison town, and under 
 military law, and he out with the Penal act, and 
 reads a clause that no Papists were to be harboured 
 there, and away they were to go. And the walls were 
 to be built up again, and the gates were to be shut at 
 sunset, and the quays were to be watched all the 
 night long. The Lord Archbishop of the Province 
 was in the town one day. Sure, he hunted him out 
 as if his Reverence had been no better than a dog- 
 fox. You are not well pleased with the Peace, Mr. 
 Blake, but if the war had lasted, Colonel Eyre would 
 have made wild work in Galway. But Mr. O'Hara 
 knew how it was to be, like a clever lad as he is. 
 When the peace was proclaimed, over came the orders 
 from London, that nothing more was to be done to 
 displease the French, or give ofifence to His Majesty's 
 
 2 
 
i8 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 good Catholic subjects. And Mr. O'Hara went to 
 Dublin and complained that the Colonel was going 
 against the civil authorities with his soldier's law, and 
 he came back with the commands of the Viceroy for 
 the Colonel to sit still in the Castle, and mind his own 
 business. So the Colonel's hands are tied fast for him, 
 and the gates are put away, and forty yards of the 
 fortifications broken clean down and thrown into the 
 water, and poor people can go about their errands 
 with none to trouble them, and land the brandy and 
 stow the woolpacks in your honour's vessels. Och, 
 it is the English Government that understands the 
 road to the hearts of the Irish people. Only the 
 day I sailed, the beautiful new church was opened 
 where the school-house was I tould ye of, and his 
 Grace and fifty of his clergy came in for the occasion, 
 spite of Penal laws and Parliament. They marched 
 through the streets in their robes, with the Blessed 
 Cross carried before them, and the guns were fired at 
 the battery by the Mayor's orders, while the Colonel 
 was looking on out of the window. Ireland is a fine 
 country after all, God bless it. Them English will 
 have to drop us by-and-bye like a hot potato for all 
 they do and say, and I'll see the day yet when your 
 honour will be home again among your own people." 
 
 The prospect of changing his French chateau for 
 what was left of his ancestral castle on Lough Corrib 
 either seemed to Blake more remote than his officer 
 expected, or perhaps in itself not particularly desirable. 
 He was contented to know that the English were 
 falling back into their usual policy of weakening their 
 friends and attempting to conciliate their enemies, and 
 did not pursue his inquiries. He turned abruptly to 
 another subject. 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 19 
 
 " This passenger of yours Dennis, this Sylvester, I 
 must see him, but I would like to know what he is 
 after. How did you come by him ? and what did he 
 say to you to make you take him on board ? It will 
 be a round lie, whatever it was. The last time he was 
 here, he had come from Paris to beg a passage home. 
 He had been in trouble in Dublin, he told me, for 
 bringing back some of the college lads out of heresy to 
 Holy Church. Parliament law had made it felony, 
 and he had to run to France to save his neck, but he 
 wanted, so he pretended, to see his friends in Kerry, 
 and he begged me for the love of God to help him 
 over. This was his story then, and the fact of it was 
 that he was employed by Walpole, the English 
 Ambassador in Paris, to spy into our trading business, 
 and supply the Castle with information. He had 
 volunteered his services, the villain ! and he had a 
 protection in his pocket at that moment in case a 
 Government cruiser fell in with him." 
 
 " I had heard something of this, your honour," said 
 Dennis, " and it was in my mind when he asked for a 
 passage to take him out into deep water and drop 
 him over the side with a shot at the leg of him. To 
 hear him talk, you would suppose that there was no 
 truer Irishman in the four Provinces. If hetould lies it 
 was for the good cause, and for one lie that he tould 
 your honour he tould twenty to them in Dublin. 
 But I don't like the looks of him, and that is the 
 truth of it." 
 
 "You don't like informers, Denny. I don't like 
 them either. No good cause was ever served by 
 lying. He that is false to one is false to all, that is 
 my experience. Let a man once take to it, 'tis like 
 the whiskey. He never leaves it after. If I might 
 
20 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 take my way with the fellow, I would ship him off 
 to the plantations in Martinique. How came he 
 in Gal way ? " 
 
 " It was not in Galway I fell in with him at all, 
 your honour. Your honour was expecting wild-geese. 
 As there were none in Galway I looked into the 
 Ken mare River as I went by. I thought may be 
 there would be a flight of them in at Kilmakilloge. 
 Not a feather there either, but I found Mr. Sylvester 
 O'Sullivan in a wild way about the old Place at 
 Derrecn, and about the brother of him, Macfinnan 
 Dhu. Sure it is mighty proud they are of their 
 family thim Sullivans, come of the giants that was 
 before the great Flood they say, and if anything goes 
 wrong with the laste of the race they think the world 
 is coming to an end. Well, there is something going 
 wrong with Macfinnan Dhu just now. I could make 
 little out of his talking, but any way Mr. Sylvester 
 prayed me for the love of God and the Saints to take 
 him over where he could have speech with Morty Oge, 
 him that was with the Prince, that your honour 
 named just now ; he said he was in Paris." 
 
 " If he wants Morty Sullivan," said Blake, "we can 
 pleasure him that far. Morty is in Nantes at this 
 moment, and will be here at breakfast to-morrow. If 
 he is of my mind he won't believe too much of what 
 S34vester may say to him. But keep your man under 
 hatches, till I send for him. If the lads in the town 
 get wind of the rogue, they will tar and feather him, 
 and that is the least they will do." 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 In a small but handsomely furnished apartment in 
 the chateau, to the garden oi which the reader has 
 already been introduced, two gentlemen were sitting 
 the next morning, engaged in earnest conversation ; 
 one of them Mr. Patrick Blake, the owner of the 
 establishment, the other a spare sallow-complexioned 
 man, with short black hair, slightly grizzled, square 
 features, chin clean shaven, a heavy moustache, which 
 hanging from the upper lip concealed the mouth, and 
 the hard grey eyes of the dark Celt of the south of 
 Ireland. His age might be forty or a little over. 
 The lines of his face were firm and peremptory, as 
 of a soldier, or of someone accustomed to command. 
 He was not tall, and he was slightly built ; but seated 
 though he was the curves of loin and thigh showed 
 that he was sinewy and active like a leopard. His 
 small spare hands would have served as models for a 
 sculptor, and the long fingers and almond-shaped 
 nails indicated birth and breeding. He was dressed 
 in the morning costume of a fashionable Frenchman 
 of the day, who might be either officer or civilian, but 
 who, if in the army, reserved his uniform for parade 
 or active service, and when off duty appeared like an 
 ordinary gentleman. It might be unsafe to guess at 
 his calling, but it was easy to see that he was a person 
 of consequence, able, resolute, prompt alike with mind 
 and hand, and one whom a prudent person would 
 sooner have for a friend than an enemy. 
 
22 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 They had finished breakfast, and had drawn their 
 chairs to the window, which opened on a balcony and 
 overlooked the garden and the river. A long tele- 
 scope stood between them on a brass pedestal. They 
 had been examining through it a singularly beautiful 
 vessel which was lying in the tide-way at half-a-mile 
 distance. She was three hundred tons burden and 
 had been originally a brig, but Mr. Blake had dis- 
 covered that the fore-and-aft rig gave advantages in 
 working to windward which were of supreme import- 
 ance when speed was the first consideration. He had 
 altered her after a fashion of his own into something 
 like the modern schooner. She had attracted attention 
 as the only specimen of her class which was yet 
 afloat, and opinions had been divided about her merits. 
 The old seamen shook their heads. Those who had 
 sailed in her smiled and said nothing, but were always 
 willing to try their fortunes on board her a second 
 time. Her freeboard was low. In the waist she was 
 not more than four feet out of water. Her draught 
 was small, her bows hollow, her beam, which was not 
 perceptible as she lay broadside on, was evidently of 
 unusual breadth. Otherwise she could not have 
 carried the enormous spars with which she had been 
 furnished on the alteration of her rig, and the 
 dimensions of which appeared the more extravagant 
 as her sails were unbent ; her standing rigging was 
 not set up, and the huge sloping masts stood out 
 naked to the eye. She was called a trader, but that 
 trade was not her only business might be inferred as 
 well from her general aspect as from the gun-slides 
 which were plainly visible through the glass upon her 
 deck. The most ignorant landsman could have seen 
 at a glance that she was meant for mischief She was 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 23 
 
 laid up, as it was called ; but her paint was fresh and 
 her spars were scraped and varnished. An active 
 crew could probably fit her for sea in a few days, or 
 even, under pressure, in a few hours. 
 
 " You have decided then," said Blake in a tone of 
 disappointment, and at the close of what had been 
 a long argument. " There the vessel lies for you and you 
 will not take her, and you decline my offer. When 
 the Doutelle was a brig, no ship of her size in the 
 English service was a match for her, either running 
 or on a wind. You and I owe our lives to the style in 
 which she walked away from the frigate when I 
 brought you and Sheridan back from Scotland. In 
 her new dress she has added two knots to her speed. 
 The world is before you, and the world's enemy to 
 prey upon. You can serve your country, and you 
 can make your own fortune too. Speak the word, 
 and never rover sailed out of the Loire with such a 
 ship and such a crew as I can furnish you with. The 
 strength of England is in her commerce ; strike her 
 there, and you strike at her heart. Her traders are 
 in all seas — east and west they will lie at your mercy. 
 Her own Drakes and Morgans never made such a 
 noise in the world as you may make. Thousands of 
 our poor countrymen are working in the cane-fields in 
 Barbadoes and Antigua. At the sight of you they 
 will rise and cut the planters' throats. Had I your 
 years, Morty, by the Saints in glory ! do you think I'd 
 be dragging out my life over ledgers and bills of 
 lading, when I might be making a name for myself as 
 a hero, and breaking the merchants' houses in London 
 by the losses I'd bring them to? By my soul, I'm 
 half minded to go out myself, old as I am ! " 
 
 " I'd be sorry for your sake, Mr. Blake," said his 
 
24 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 companion, " to see you off on any such errand. You 
 are doing very well as you are. Let alone your fine 
 house, and your gardens, and the money you are 
 piling up, you are breaking a larger hole in the Eng- 
 lish Exchequer every year with your wool and 
 brandy trade than ever I could do with the Doiitelle's 
 guns. Your place is where you are, and long may 
 you live to fill it. But there is a question I'd like to 
 ask you. This peace that they have made at Aix ! 
 will it last, think you — you will be better acquainted 
 with the ways of the politicians than I can be." 
 
 " It will not last," answered Blake passionately, " It 
 cannot last. Richelieu says it cannot, so says D'Argen- 
 son, so says, in spite of herself that cooked it up, his 
 Majesty's painted Madam. It is only a breathing 
 time, and but half that. Peace or no Peace, Dupleix 
 means to have the British out of India, and the French 
 in Canada mean to take New England from them. 
 They will be fighting again before the ink is dry on 
 the signatures. Here at home there will be war once 
 more before five summers have gone round, and in 
 the storm that is brewing, that proud Island will have 
 the feathers plucked out of her at last." 
 
 " I trust you will prove a true prophet in that," 
 said Morty. '* But five years ! Here is peace but just 
 signed ; and you want me to hoist the Black Flag in 
 the old Doiitelle and go to sea as a pirate, in the hope 
 that when five years are gone the French Govern- 
 ment will look over my small irregularities for the 
 harm I may have done the English, let me keep my 
 plunder, and perhaps give me a commission. That is 
 the plain meaning of it, and piracy is not so reputable 
 a calling as it used to be. I have no conscience in 
 the matter. The partridge is the food of the hawk 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 25 
 
 wherever the hawk finds him, and the English are my 
 natural enemies. But peace is peace, and business is 
 business. Suppose I take a West Indiaman, what am I 
 to do with her — where am I to sell the cargo, how am 
 I to get rid of the crew ? " 
 
 " The sea is deep," replied Blake coolly, " and dead 
 men do not float with proper ballast. Send the ship 
 to the bottom and the crew along with her. If you 
 are across the Atlantic, they will buy the cargo of you 
 at Martinique or Hayti, and ask you no more questions 
 than you please to answer. If you are this side bring 
 it here ; or ye may carry it to Ireland, if you will. 
 Barring Cork and Kinsale, there is never a harbour in 
 Munster, well ye know it, Mr. Morty, where they 
 would not welcome the sight of you ; and if it was 
 chests of gold and silver ye put on shore, 'twould be 
 as safe for ye as in my own counting-house, and devil 
 a word would ye hear from high or low, save to wish 
 ye God speed. With their trade laws, and their navi- 
 gation laws, it is little help the English will find there, 
 from gentle or simple. They robbed us of our land, 
 they robbed us of our religion, or tried to do it. Now 
 they are robbing their own Protestant colony, and 
 they have brought it to this, that no Irishman out of 
 Ulster, Catholic or Protestant, will trouble any vessel 
 that may be dealing with the people there, to please 
 the British Government. 
 
 "My friend Blake," answered Morty, " you are a bold 
 man, and a sanguine, but your position and mine are 
 not precisely the same. You will risk your vessel. If 
 you lose her it will not break you. I, as you well 
 know, should go into the business with a halter about 
 my neck. Doubtless it is true, as you say, that there 
 is little love left for the English in the old country. 
 
26 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 But they can sail their ships, and they can fight their 
 ships, as the French know to their cost. Hawke is 
 not a fellow to play with, and as to those gentry of 
 ours in Cork and Kerry, perhaps I know them as 
 well as you do. You say I might land chests of gold 
 and silver, and the boys there might be trusted to 
 keep it safe for us. Ask the Danes what they think 
 about that. How many years is it since the Golden 
 Lion went ashore at Ballyhige, and the gentlemen of 
 Kerry shared the bullion chests that were on board 
 her among themselves? I will trust Irishmen as long 
 as their interest and mine run on the same track, but 
 not an inch further. Suppose I did as you would 
 have me, there would be a smart reward offered for 
 the taking of me, dead or alive, and with such a pro- 
 clamation out I'd be careful how I stayed very long 
 in an Irish harbour." 
 
 " You are an old comrade, Morty," Blake answered, 
 " or I wouldn't bear to hear ye speak like that. As for 
 them Danes, 'twas the Protestant Archdeacon and the 
 members of Parliament that stole the silver. It is 
 not yourself that I'd expect would be blackening th-e 
 character of your own race." 
 
 " I say no more than the truth of them," said Morty. 
 " There never was a plan for a rising in Ireland yet, 
 but what an Irishman was found who would sell the 
 secret of it. More shame to the English who have 
 made us what we are. Many a wrong they have 
 done to me and mine, but that is the worst of the 
 whole ; and if I care to live at all, it is to pay them 
 back some part of that debt at any rate. You can 
 bear witness for me, Blake, that I have not flinched 
 yet. I left the Austrians, to fight the English at 
 Fontenoy, when Lacy would have given me a 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. Tj 
 
 regiment. I went with Prince Charles to Scotland 
 because you would have me go, and because you said 
 I should make the Prince a friend to Ireland. I was 
 at his side at Preston Pans. I followed him to Derby, 
 and if the Scots would have let him take my counsel 
 we might have ridden together through the streets of 
 London. I went with him on his retreat. I fought 
 for him at Falkirk. I fought at CuUoden. I will say 
 for you that you saved me from the consequences of 
 following your advice. Had you not come to my 
 help my head would be blackening at this moment 
 over the doors of the Tolbooth at Edinburgh. But 
 what was the use of it all. If we had helped the 
 Prince to the Throne our poor country would have been 
 none the better. There is no truth or honesty in him. 
 He is just an Englishman like the rest. When we 
 sailed together out of this river, who was readier with 
 his promises than he? Who talked more glibly of 
 justice to Ireland ? Who were dearer to him than the 
 Irish Brigade ? It lasted till Preston fight and no 
 longer. He was then in a fool's paradise. He thought 
 the game was won. He told me himself again we 
 should have justice. Oh, yes ! justice. But he could 
 not offend the Scots. He must not frighten his well- 
 affected subjects in England, by diminishing the 
 dignity of the Crown. Nay, only last year, when 
 Louis was ready to venture the landing of an army 
 in Galway or Limerick, on condition that if the 
 English could be driven out, Ireland was to be an 
 independent country, who but this precious Prince 
 stood in the way, and refused his consent ? Fair and 
 false were all Stuarts. The First James planted the 
 accursed colony in Ulster. Charles sent Strafford to 
 clear us out of Con naught, and when we stood up for 
 
28 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY 
 
 him against the ParHament, he played fast and loose 
 with us till he schemed his own head off his shoulders 
 and brought on Ireland the curse of Cromwell. 
 Charles the Second engaged at Breda that we should 
 have our lands again, and all we got for serving his 
 father was the Act of Settlement, which made us 
 beggars. The next James ran at the Boyne like a 
 whipped cur, and if we had won at Aghrim the 
 English yoke would have sate never the lighter upon 
 us. No, Mr. Patrick, you were an ill counsellor to me 
 that day, and though you mean well I fear you are a 
 worse now in this thing you are advising me to do. No, 
 no. France will beat the English one of these days. 
 She will dictate peace on her own terms, and the first 
 of them will be Ireland's freedom. There is no other 
 road to it." 
 
 " If I want to build a wall," Blake answered, " I use 
 the stone that is nearest me. It may not be the best, 
 but it is the handiest to come by. Them Stuarts may 
 be all you say, but it was the best card we had to 
 play, and if the Prince had taken my advice and 
 gone to Ireland, maybe he would have had better luck 
 with him. But that is neither here nor there. You 
 trust now to France. So do I, but the French will 
 only help us if we help ourselves, and how are we 
 to do that ? We can't fight England in the field, we 
 arc too divided : but we can be a thorn in her side. 
 We can worry her, we can laugh at her laws and 
 break them. We can keep the fire smouldering till 
 we choke her with the smoke of it. She can't let 
 loose her dragoons to cut us to pieces as she used to 
 do. Her own hands are not clean enough, and the 
 world would cry shame on her. She is mighty 
 sensitive about the world's opinion. Well, then, let 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 29 
 
 us show France that, peace or no peace, there will be 
 ahvays war between us and the EngHsh ; and then, as 
 you say, our turn will come. But we must do our 
 part first, and I want you to do yours. Therefore I 
 say to you again, take the Doiitelle. There is not a 
 man-of-war or frigate in the English navy that can 
 catch her, try it how they will. Hang about the 
 mouth of the Channel. Lie off Liverpool, or off the 
 Thames if yo-u will. If they chase you, laugh at 
 them. If you lose a spar by ill-luck, or want 
 repairs, come back here. If there is trouble about it, 
 we will give you notice to be off in good time. Go to 
 the West Indies and set the islands on fire. Go to the 
 Cape of Good Hope and look out for the East India 
 men. Sink, burn, destroy — you will find plunder 
 enough that you can carry off to fill your own coffers 
 and mine, and send the rest to the bottom. You will 
 drive the London merchants mad. Sail under the 
 French flag, and never fear that you will be in trouble 
 for it. I tell you again, the peace won't hold, and 
 you yourself will help to break it." 
 
 " And swing in chains myself on a Deptford gallows," 
 said Morty, " for that is what your pirate work ends 
 in, and a fit end it is. Times are changed, my good 
 friend. Buccaneers don't conquer kingdoms any 
 longer and get thanked by their sovereign. Your 
 pirate now is a public enemy. To call him a patriot 
 does not alter his character." 
 
 'Tis not the Devil's crest. 
 
 " I have been proclaimed traitor in England, for 
 joining the Prince, and there has been a price set 
 on my head ; but, though I made a mistake. I did 
 
30 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 nothing which dishonoured me as a gentleman, and, 
 at my age, I don't wish to begin. We Irish have no 
 good name in the world, and I won't make it worse, if 
 I can help it. And besides, my dear friend, I don't 
 like the work in itself — killing and robbing is not a 
 pleasant occupation. And the crew you offer to pro- 
 vide me with will cut my throat, unless I make myself 
 as great a savage as themselves." 
 
 " And what do you intend to do with yourself, most 
 excellent Morty, since you will not take my offer ? 
 You give up the Stuarts — you will not fight the 
 English on your own account — and you know very 
 well that an open rebellion in Ireland, just now, is im- 
 possible. France and England will fight again by-and- 
 bye, perhaps to-morrow, perhaps not for four or five 
 years. How is it to be meanwhile ? Shall I take )'OU 
 into my counting-house and teach you to mend pens 
 and keep ledgers ? " 
 
 " Thank you," said Morty. " But we are on good 
 terms nov/, and, maybe, as you would have me turn 
 thief, I'd be practising my lessons on your cash-boxes, 
 and thus we might quarrel. No, no. I am a soldier, 
 and I shall follow my own trade, as my betters are 
 doing. Lacy offers me a place on his staff, in 
 my old army. Lally is going to India to help 
 Dupleix, and will take me with him, if I like. In 
 America, as you tell me, there is work going on, 
 or again, there is the Don, willing to engage any 
 number of us. These are opportunities. I can 
 choose my own employment, and we shall be doing 
 best service to our own country and to our own cause, 
 by earning fame and credit under the great Catholic 
 powers." 
 
 " You stand much upon your honour, Morty 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 31 
 
 Sullivan," answered Blake ; " and it would be un- 
 fitting in myself to be blaming you for that same. 
 Honour is a fine feather when it is not draggled, like 
 the plume in my old hat here. Indeed as the world 
 goes it is a rare commodity, and them that has it are 
 right not to let it go. By the same token, there is 
 one of your name, and small credit is he to the family, 
 if all tales are true, that is at this moment in Nantes, 
 and is asking to see you. Dennis, the master of the 
 brigantine, yonder, brought him over from Kenmare. 
 He is in bad favour in the town, about some informing 
 business. I don't properly know the rights of it. I 
 told Dennis to keep him on board, to wait your con- 
 venience, for fear harm should come to him. If you 
 please, they shall bring the fellow on shore." 
 
 " A Sullivan from Kenmare ? " said Morty, " and 
 to see me ? Who, and what is the man ? " 
 
 " Sylvester is what he said was the name of him 
 when he came to me some }'ears back, and that is 
 what he calls himself still." 
 
 " Sylvester O'Sullivan ! Sylvester the Scholar ! 
 Why, he must be my own kinsman — my father's first 
 cousin ; he that taught me Latin when I was a boy at 
 Derreen. What know you of him, that you speak so 
 coldly ? " 
 
 " It is some ten years now," said Blake, " since he 
 was here looking for me. He told me he had been a 
 teacher in Dublin. He had fallen into trouble under 
 the laws a";ainst the Catholics, and had been in danger 
 of his life. He had since been in Paris. By that 
 time, he supposed all would be forgotten, and they 
 would not be thinking of him any more, so he wanted 
 a cast back to see his family. Dennis, yonder, took 
 him to Valencia. The lads cam.e on board to hoist 
 
32 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 out the brandy casks, and as Mr. Sylvester was 
 shuffling about among them, he dropped a paper on 
 the deck. Somebody picked it up, and it was found 
 to be a pass from the Enghsh Minister at Paris. The 
 boys thought he was an Informer, and I believe that 
 is what he was, for all the oaths he swore ; and they 
 would have given him Kerry law, only for some of the 
 O'SuUivans who happened to be in the way, and went 
 bail for him, and took him off to Killarney. The 
 next I heard of Tp,y gentleman was, that he had been 
 caug;ht sendinc: a letter to the Castle, tellino; all that 
 he had learnt about our trade down there, and who 
 the persons were that were concerned in it. There 
 was a fine noise ; and your cousin, as you say he is, to 
 save the life of him, went to the Protestant Minister, 
 and got received, as they call it, into the heretic 
 Church. Not a good record, as ye will see. How it 
 ended I don't know ; but they said my Lord Fitz- 
 maurice set him in the stocks for a vagabond, and the 
 Killarney lads would have had their will upon him, 
 but that he found friends in the place. Some of the 
 young Councils from Derrynane beat them off, and 
 took him out and carried him away over the moun- 
 tains, and that is the last I heard of him till he turned 
 up again yesterday." 
 
 " Any story is good till you hear the other side," 
 said Morty. " I will believe that a Sullivan has been 
 selling his country and his soul when I have it proved 
 to fne, and not sooner — let alone one so near in blood 
 to the chief of the clan. Sylvester had a long head 
 of his own, as I remember him ; and it will not have 
 grown shorter upon him with age. If the Councils 
 were his friends, I'll give my own bail that he was 
 after nothing but putting the exciseman off the track. 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 33 
 
 It must have been Maurice Connell that stood by 
 him. Dan is with me at this moment, and is Hke an 
 own brother to me. No better lad breathes than 
 Dan, and Maurice is the twin to him. Sylvester will 
 have come to speak with me about my poor mother 
 that is gone. He'll be bringing me some word from 
 her, it is likely. God rest her soul ! Kith and kin 
 hold fast when other ties are broken. Mother, sister, 
 the old place, the old days ! How clear and bright 
 the picture of it all hangs in the memory, when all 
 else is gone to dust and vapour." 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A WHISTLE from the window summoned Dennis from 
 the stairs below the garden. Receiving a brief order, 
 he paddled back to his vessel, and presently re- 
 appeared, bringing his guest, or his prisoner, for he 
 more nearly resembled the latter, along with him. 
 The look of the man as he was introduced into 
 the room, entirely justified the ill opinion of him 
 which Blake, notwithstanding Morty's protestations, 
 evidently continued to entertain. He was an under- 
 sized, mean-looking being, perhaps sixty years old, 
 and he appeared more abject than he really was, from 
 the manner in which he carried himself Dennis had 
 wrapped him in a pilot ccat, which was too large for 
 him, and came almost to the ground. Only half his 
 countenance was visible above the collar, as if the rest 
 was afraid to show itself, and his feet shuffled about in 
 his heavy sea-boots like shrivelled nuts in their shells. 
 His hair, which in spite of his age was still coal black, 
 fell straight and thin over his forehead. His features, 
 once clearly and delicately cut, had become shapeless 
 
 3 
 
34 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY, 
 
 and unmeaning. His mouth was a slit or gash across 
 the face, and Hps he had none. His eyes of greenish- 
 brown were vacant and lustreless, as if staring into 
 space, and seeing nothing, and only an occasional un- 
 easy glance betra}'ed that he was conscious of what 
 was round him. He gazed stolidly for a moment at 
 Morty, whom he did not expect to find, and therefore 
 naturally did not recognise. He then turned to Blake 
 like a convicted criminal. 
 
 " Well, Mr. Sylvester," said the merchant, " so here 
 you are again. You are a cunning old fox, but you 
 may run j^our head into a noose once too often. Do 
 you remember the last occasion when you were in this 
 room ? " 
 
 " I do, and well, your honour, and a beautiful room 
 it is. And good your honour was to me that same 
 time." 
 
 "Good was I," said Blake, "and what are you I'd 
 like to know ? You came to me with a fine story of 
 all ye'd done and all j-e'd suffered for your country. 
 You wanted me to send you home to Kerry, to your 
 family there, and all the while there was black trea- 
 chery in the heart of you. You were an informer, 
 man, and had sould yourself to them in the Castle of 
 Dublin." 
 
 " Your honour speaks nothing but the truth," said 
 the man, " so far as the truth is known to ye. Sure 
 enough I had the bit of paper Mr. Walpole giv me, if 
 it is that ye mane. I'd be none the worse for such a 
 thing if the magistrates got hold upon me, as it was 
 like they might with the errand I had taken upon me. 
 But the way of it was this. I was wanting to go 
 home to my own people, and there was a stir just 
 then about the trade, and the Danes' treasure, and the 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 35 
 
 wild-geese, and the French going over ; and they were 
 saying in Paris the Enghsh would be sending the led- 
 coats to sweep the country clear of the whole of us, 
 and I thought I would be useful decaving them a 
 little, and making distrust between them and the 
 gintry like." 
 
 " That might suit with ye as a rogue's trick," said 
 Blake, " but if that was what ye were after, why did 
 you not speak plainly to me ? I don't believe ye. 
 There was that letter ye wrote from Killarney to the 
 Castle. How do you explain that ? telling them how 
 ye had come over, and how the cargo was run." 
 
 " Sure and if I tould them," said Sylvester, " there 
 was never a word of truth in the whole story I tould 
 them. It was little they could learn from me, clever 
 as they might be ; and as to speaking out to your 
 honour, there is an old saying that one may keep 
 counsel, but never two, and I thought maybe some of 
 them Paris people might be asking ye questions about 
 me, and your honour would not tell what yo. did not 
 know." 
 
 Blake looked at the wretched being, hardly know- 
 ing whether to laugh or be angry. 
 
 " And how about your turning Protestant ?" he asked, 
 " and forsaking the faith you were born in ? One of 
 my own people saw you in Killarney church, swearing 
 away your religion before the Archdeacon." 
 
 " Sure and if I did, your honour, there is no sin in 
 telling a lie to a heretic. It is no more than every 
 poor fellow is obliged to do in these bad days, each 
 time he signs a lease on him, or takes an office. Don't 
 the Catholic counsellors in Dublin swear they arc 
 Protestants before they can practise ; Glory be to God 
 for that same ; for where would our poor people be 
 
 3* 
 
36 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY, 
 
 without the help of them in the courts of law ? When 
 the laws are against us we must just slip through 
 them as we can ; the Lord help us and be gracious 
 to us." 
 
 " So you mean you were lying all round ? " said 
 Blake. " You gave information and it was false, and 
 they paid you money for it which you put in your 
 pocket ? " 
 
 " Indeed, and I did, your honour, and where is the 
 harm for the good cause ? I went back to live at my 
 old place, and it is a little reward that I had from the 
 Castle to send them word when the boys were abroad. 
 Never a lad came to hurt or a cargo to be taken for 
 anything they ever learnt from me, and the money was 
 good anyway. But your honour is making me speak 
 out mighty plain before strangers," and he looked un- 
 easily at Morty, in whose face contempt and disgust 
 were strongly mixed with interest. 
 
 " Have no fear of my friend," the merchant said. 
 " What is the business which has brought you over ? " 
 
 " I was wishing to spake a word with a relation of 
 my own," Sylvester answered. " Your honour knows 
 him. Morty Oge, I mane. Him that went with the 
 Prince. They say he is in Paris, and I supposed may 
 be your honour might help me to the sight of him." 
 
 " Morty Oge is not in Paris," replied Blake. " He 
 sits there in front of you." 
 
 Sylvester started as if he had been shot. The dull 
 listless manner disappeared. The decrepit figure 
 quivered with life. The eyes fastened hungrily on the 
 face before him as if he would read every line of it. 
 For a few seconds he doubted, then flung himself on 
 his knees, clasped Morty in his arms, threw his head 
 upon his breast and sobbed convulsively. 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 37 
 
 " It's himself," he cried. " It is my own boy after 
 all these years. The Saints preserve us ! Who ever 
 saw the' like of it ? But speak to me, Morty. Speak 
 to me that I may hear the voice of ye, for you are 
 strangely changed." 
 
 " Twenty years have changed us both," Morty said, 
 " but your kinsman it is, or all that you will ever see 
 of him ; by the same token you'll remember how you 
 taught me my Classics on the old rock at Derreen, and 
 carved the sundial in the stone for me that will be 
 there to this day ; how you tied the brown fly for me 
 that caught the big salmon in Glanmore Lake, when I 
 was a small spalpeen no higher than my leg." 
 
 " It is— it is his very self," sobbed Sylvester, 
 devouring Morty with eyes from which the tears were 
 running. " Twenty-five years ! and you look so grand 
 and powerful like, and you have been in the wars with 
 the princes and the generals ; and your own mother, 
 that is in glory, wouldn't have known ye till ye spoke ; 
 and now you are given back to us, and the Blessed 
 Virgin will bring ye safe home." 
 
 "Home?" said Morty. "Well, I don't know. I 
 have need of m.y head for my own uses, and there is 
 a price upon it since that Scotch business. I am 
 much attached to my countrymen, but if they like 
 nothing else that is British they like British gold ; 
 they might serve me as they served the Desmond." 
 
 " I won't say, your honour, but such things there 
 may be in Ireland. It comes of having the Saxons 
 among us. They are infected like with the plague, 
 and honest men catch it of them. But your honour 
 will be as safe in Kerry as in the King's palace at 
 Versailles, and safer, too, if all tales are true ; and 
 oh! Morty, you are sorely needed. It is broken- 
 
38 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 hearted we are for the want of you, and yourself the 
 chief of the name. If ye stay longer from us the 
 last Sullivan will soon be gone out of Tuosist." 
 
 " Not while Macfinnan lives and reigns at Derreen," 
 said Morty, " and he would be a bold lad that took 
 the lands in Kilmakilloge, if they put Macfinnan out. 
 And sure they can't put him out. He holds under 
 the lease, and he had a son, I heard. They called 
 him Mick. He will be growing into a man by 
 now." 
 
 " Indeed, then, that is what we fear Mick will never 
 grow into, at all at all. Macfinnan is well enough, 
 but Mick was changed at the cradle, or there is water 
 in the heart of him where blood should be. He is a 
 stout youth to look at, but he goes about the woods 
 hanging the head of him, or whistling to the seals or 
 the like, and never a stroke in his arm for play or 
 anger. We had better hopes of him last Michaelmas. 
 'Twas Fair day up at Kenmare, and the gentry were 
 eating their dinner at the Inn, and Mick along with 
 them. Mr. Orpen was saucy like, and Mick (he had 
 a glass of whiskey in him that time, and he wasn't 
 used to it) gave him back the words he used. So it 
 was settled there was to be a fight on the bridge the 
 next day, and all the town was to be there to see. 
 Macfinnan was pleased to see the lad had mettle in 
 him, but he had no great expectation of how he would 
 come out of it. He gave him his own pistols that he 
 shot the Councillor with at the Assizes at Tralee. 
 There are twenty notches in the handles of them, and 
 each notch stands for a man's life. But he feared the 
 worst. He had his wake made ready for him against 
 he was brought back. And he was near needing 
 it, poor Mick ! Orpen shot him through the foot, 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 39 
 
 and he came limping back and carries his head no 
 higher, and it is a sore trial to the family." 
 
 Morty laughed. " You see, Blake," he said, " an 
 O'Sullivan must do credit to his breeding or they won't 
 acknowledge him. His father must send him over to 
 me. I will make a man of him yet. Or, if the worst 
 come, an old race does not go out because a single 
 boy is born with a woman's soul in him. One eyrie 
 may be empty, but there will be eagles still soaring on 
 Knockowen." 
 
 " You're mistaking me, entirely," Sylvester said. " If 
 that was the worst of it, we'd do yet, but there is a 
 black purpose against the whole of us. Ye will mind 
 the colonies of Protestants old Sir William Petty set 
 along the Kenmare River. He was trying to plant 
 Kerry as they planted the North, and fine work we 
 had to clear them out again after Sir William was 
 gone. Ye were yourself a child when the end came 
 to all that, and ye will not remember it ; but you will 
 recollect the fish houses Sir William left at Colorus, 
 and the watercourses up the valley, and the great 
 heaps of slag where the furnaces were. 'Twas many 
 years the strangers were among us, but they got no 
 help from home, and we were at them day and night 
 to make the place uneasy to them." 
 
 " Well, and what of it ? " said Morty. " They were 
 got rid of, and there was an end. They are not 
 coming back, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Indeed, but they are, and the Divil's work m the 
 train of them," Sylvester answered. " There is to be 
 a new Colony, and either the Colony will clear the 
 Irish out, or the Irish must clear the Colony out again, 
 and this is what I'd be wishing to speak to ye about. 
 I'll tell you how it is. When Sir William's people 
 
40 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 went out they gave the Macfinnans back the glen with 
 the lase for the three lives. Well, the ould Macfinnan, 
 he that had the lase first, your grandfather that was, 
 got a ball through his body at Mallow races. 
 Your uncle, that was the next, your mother's brother, 
 shortened his life with the whiskey. Then came Mac- 
 finnan Dhu, that now reigns, may the Lord spare him 
 to us ! but he is growing old, and has not long to 
 remain. Well, as you know, they have been a careless 
 race. The agent was always telling them to fill in 
 names for those that had dropped. Your uncle was 
 troubled in his conscience for the oaths that he had 
 sworn, and didn't like to be repeating them, and when 
 my cousin came there were fines to be paid if the lase 
 was renev/ed, and the m^oney was not over plenty with 
 him. The people were talking that the laws would be 
 changed, and he would have his own back again, and 
 where would be the use of his calling himself a 
 Protestant, when in a few years they would be all 
 gone out of the Island ? So he put it off, and let the 
 time go by, and now what does the ould Earl do ? — 
 that is Petty's son they have made a Lord of — but 
 sends word that when Macfinnan dies and the lase 
 falls, they will take the place into their own hands." 
 
 " And what does the Earl want in Tuosist ? " said 
 Morty. "Has he not lands enough in England? 
 Has he not tens of thousands of acres among the 
 lime-stone pastures of Meath and Dublin, that he 
 grudges the Sullivans the rocks and bogs of Kilma- 
 killoge ? Will he plant his wheat-crops on Knockatee 
 or make a deer park in Glenrastel and Glenatrasna ? 
 Poor man ! It is a short life any Earl's steward 
 would have at Derreen." 
 
 " Ye are not believing me, Morty, but ye will have 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOV. 41 
 
 to believe me before all is said. It was the English 
 Government that first complained, at the time when 
 the fright was about the French coming. They said it 
 was a scandal that Lord Shelbourne's estate should 
 be a harbour of rogues and Rapparees. They bade 
 him remember his father, and what Sir William had 
 done on these same lands. Maybe ye now don't 
 know rightly how it was. When old Petty got the 
 great grant from Cromwell, ninety years back, and 
 our people were driven out, and there were red coats 
 in Killarney, and none left in Tuosist save a few poor 
 creatures in the Glins, Sir William was thinking 
 how he would turn to profit what he had got, and a 
 clever man he was — may his sins be remembered to 
 him ! The country was covered then with forest. A 
 squirrel could run from Glanmore to Glanatrasna and 
 never touch the earth. Sir William brought down 
 hundreds of strangers, English, Scotch, French, 
 Flemings, all sorts, and all were welcome if they were 
 heretics and knew how to work. He had a settle- 
 ment at Kenmare, and a settlement at Iverach and 
 Blackwater, and a great settlement down in Kilma- 
 killoge. He set up smelting furnaces to melt the 
 copper ore. He made a harbour at Buna. He had 
 a cod and herring fishery, and a ship and boat yard, 
 and all the place was full of vessels coming and 
 going. There was a power of money made that time, 
 and the settlers had their wives, and the children 
 grew like rabbits in the sand-hills. Divil a yard of 
 ground would have been left for any poor Irishman if 
 old Petty had had his way. The war came and the 
 troubles, and the O'Donoghue lads cleared them out of 
 Kenmare, but they held on down the bay, till the 
 Dutchman landed and we lost the day." 
 
42 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 "This is a long story," interrupted Blake, im- 
 patiently. " What is the use of croaking like a sick 
 raven ? If the English could do all that in Killma- 
 killoge, why don't you set to work yourselves, and do 
 as well or better ? Tell us what the Earl as you call 
 him is after now, and be short with it." 
 
 " 'Deed it is hard to be short with the country's 
 sorrows ; they are long enough any way. But I'll let 
 you have the whole of it as ye will. Sir William died 
 that had set going all this industry as they called it. 
 His son went to England, and had other things to think 
 about. The Protestants in the colony now felt quite asy 
 like, unless that a Catholic Prince might come back after 
 ail and turn them all out. They held on. They had 
 a fine trade. They had mills on the rivers, and they 
 made cloths and blankets ; and they built their own 
 ships, and they were too strong for us altogether. 
 But the Lord in His mercy put into the hearts of the 
 London Parliament to do for us what we could not 
 have done for ourselves. They were afraid the 
 people that they had sent over would be doing better 
 than was convenient to them to allow, so they shut 
 their mills up and their yards. /\nd the Parliament in 
 Dublin was not behind-hand. Good for the soul it is 
 to watch how the Lord plays the Divil with them 
 heretics. You'd think that living here, among a 
 people that have no liking for them, they would keep 
 the peace among themselves. Sure they are as like 
 one another in the eyes of a Catholic as thim black 
 boys in your garden, Mr. Blake. But the Protestant 
 Bishops, and the Lords and Gentry in Parliament didn't 
 choose to be confounded with Puritans and such like. 
 So they shut their chapels and their schools up, and 
 treated them as if thjy -vere no better than dogs. I 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 43 
 
 was a lad then, but I remember it well. There was a 
 glad heart in every honest Irishman that day." 
 
 Patience was not one of Blake's virtues. " Get on 
 with you and come to the point," he said. "What 
 has all this to do with the Sullivans at Kilma- 
 killoge ? " 
 
 "Just this, your honour, if you will plase to listen 
 to me. Them Protestants Sir William brought were 
 all mechanics, and farmers, and fishermen, and the 
 like. They thought that the Bishops that the King 
 makes were not bishops at all, and the Bishops' 
 Church no better than the Catholic. They had 
 their own ministers and their own churches, and the 
 law came and said they should not have them any 
 more. And so, with the one thing and the other, they 
 wouldn't have it, and the most of them left all they 
 had and took themselves away. They were to go to 
 the Parish Church, the law said, and how would they 
 be doing that I wonder, when there were not half a 
 dozen churches in all Kerry with a roof over them ? " 
 
 " There is a Protestant Church at Killarney that 
 yourself has made acquaintance with, Mr. Sylvester," 
 said Blake maliciously. 
 
 " Ah now, Mr. Blake," said Sylvester, " what's the 
 use of delaying me with speaking of what is no 
 concern to anybody, and his honour waiting all this 
 while to hear what I have to tell him ? " 
 
 " You have told me nothing yet," Morty observed, 
 " beyond what I have heard in my cradle." 
 
 " Ye are right in that. 'Twas in 5^our cradle you 
 were at that time, and maybe }'0U never rightly un- 
 derstood how it was. There were five hundred 
 Protestants on the land that the Sullivans had. And 
 they were growing every year stronger, and you 
 
44 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY, 
 
 would have thought we would never be rid of them 
 more, when thim laws broke them up, and the 
 settlement came to an end. They went away fifty 
 years back now, and they left nothing behind them 
 but their mill walls and their watercourses. The Earl 
 that came after Sir William was for a quiet life, and 
 he put your grandfather back in the old place ; and 
 the Sullivans came home again, and from that day to 
 this there has not been a Barony in all Ireland where 
 the true friends of the country find a better welcome 
 or a pleasanter life. There }'Our grandfather reigned, 
 and your uncle that was, and now Macfinnan Dhu, 
 and never an exciseman shewed the face of him in 
 Tuosist, nor constable coming to trouble poor fellows 
 about what may be they couldn't answer convaniently, 
 nor Informer either." 
 
 " Always excepting yourself, Sylvester," said Blake. 
 
 " Be asy with your joking, Mr. Blake. Well, I say 
 since that day no servant of the Castle has set foot in 
 the Barony ; and the rint was paid, and fair and easy 
 it was, and if it was not ready to the day or the year, 
 no question was asked, for it was gintleman daling 
 with gintlemian. And, barring Galway, there is not a 
 Bay in the whole country where more wool has been 
 run out, and more brandy and claret run in, and 
 where the French officers that have come recruiting 
 have found better entertainment ; and that yourself 
 knows, Mr. Blake. Nobody better." 
 
 " I have nothing to say against that," Blake 
 wearily answered. " But your story is as long as the 
 big snake whose tail v/as in Gougaun Barra Lake when 
 his head was going out of Cork harbour." 
 
 " We have come to the tail now, and that is where 
 the sting is you will find. You have heard belike of 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 45 
 
 the great Annesley law case, ths.t made the fortunes 
 of half the lawyers in the Four Courts. They took 
 our property away because we were not fit to hould 
 it, and I'd like ye to find in the wide world such a set 
 of blackguards as some of them they put in the 
 places of us. Lord Annesley had the lands that 
 reached from Bantry out to Dursey Island, with a deal 
 besides elsewhere. He died and left a son, but the 
 brother of him took the estate, for he said the boy 
 was a bastard, and he had him kidnapped and sold as 
 a slave in the American plantations. He comes back 
 fifteen years after and claims the lands, and it was up 
 and down, one Court saying one thing, and another 
 another, till the Counsellors had eaten the worth of it, 
 and the little that was left came to be divided. 
 
 " The best part of the Bantry estate went to Mr. 
 White, that you will have heard of The lands at 
 Berehaven and Dunboy Castle, your own place, Morty, 
 and the home of your fathers, fell to one Goring, 
 connected in some way with the Northern Irish, 
 and a relation of the lord that was gone. It was 
 little he got by it, for the Annesleys were a thriftless 
 set, and it was all tied up in leases and mortgages ; 
 but he was a harmless creature. He just let things go 
 as they were, and no one had a word to say of him 
 good or ill, till four years ago he died, and Dunboy 
 fell to his brother, the Colonel." 
 
 At the name of Colonel Goring, Morty and Blake 
 exchanged glances of some surprise, and listened with 
 increased interest as Sylvester continued : 
 
 " The Colonel (he was captain then) was in the 
 same regiment with Colonel Eyre, and as like they 
 were as a pair of sparrow hawks. They were at 
 Culloden togetherj^gatHrh^fi>>l;he Duke sent Eyre to 
 
46 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOV. 
 
 Galway, Goring went* with him, and fine work they 
 made between them, restoring order as they called it. 
 The English had the fright on them, and, by-and-bye, 
 when Goring gets the Berehaven Estate, they told 
 him he was to do the same work down there. So they 
 made him a revenue officer. They gave him a power 
 of men under him, with command of a hundred miles 
 of the coast ; and who but he was to make a sweep of 
 the whole country ? The brother that was before him 
 was a soft kind of gentleman. Never a boy or man was 
 troubled for running his bit of cargo while he lived 
 and ruled. But the Colonel, so they called him, after 
 he came down among us, he was like one of Crom- 
 well's troopers, the Lord confound them ! with a sword 
 in one hand and a pistol in the other, and the Bible 
 on the lips of him. Ye will mind yourself how it 
 was, Mr. Blake, four years back. Never one of your 
 vessels could be seen off the coast, but what Goring 
 would be looking out with his boats and his English 
 divils along with -him. And the worst was what came 
 to your own flesh and blood, Morty, for Dursey Island 
 was part of the property that came to him. The old 
 Castle was standing at that time on the Sound, and 
 'twas there your own mother was living, and }^our 
 sister with the child she was left with when her 
 husband, Donnell Mahony'3 son that was, died. And, 
 Morty, you know your mother is gone, but you will 
 not have heard, maybe, how it was that she was 
 taken. The Colonel put her out under pretences that 
 she was sheltering the smugglers there, and he mvs^ 
 have the Castle pulled down ; and they had to go in 
 the winter storms to the ould place at Eyris, and 
 that is all that is left to you, Morty, of the lands that 
 were your fathers'. There your mother died, God 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 47 
 
 rest her soul ! and there your sister lives now all alone 
 with her boy ; and a rough place it is for her that was 
 bred like a lady, with the wild lads that come and go 
 there." 
 
 Sylvester had no longer to complain of want of 
 attention in one, at least, of his hearers. Morty was 
 hanging passionately upon his words. 
 
 " My mother ! " he muttered between his teeth. 
 " And I far far away that should have sheltered her 
 last years. Strange," he said, " that this same man 
 should cross my path again. He it was that caught 
 me and Sheridan, and would have shot us ; and he 
 now reigns at Dunboy and makes war on women and 
 children ! Why is the wretch alive } Why have none 
 of you put a ball through him ? " 
 
 " The Colonel is a crafty lad, as well as a bould 
 one," said Sylvester, " and it is none so easy to reach 
 him. He had a dozen men with him up to last \'ear 
 from a man-o'-war that is at Kinsale. They have 
 taken half of them away now, but soon he will be 
 holding his own and want the help of none of them. 
 He is at the ould devilry again, bringing in Protestants 
 to live among us. The Parliament changed the law, and 
 they can stay now, worse luck ! He has found copper 
 in the mountains ; mighty fine they say it is ; and he 
 has fetched over great gangs of miners from Cornwall 
 who dig the copper for him, and are settled about the 
 place. Psalm-singing rogues they are ; but they work 
 as Sir William's people did, and there is a dale of 
 money going among them. And just in the same 
 way again he won't leave alone the poor fish in the 
 sea. He has brought some more of them Cornishmen 
 with boats and lines and long nets. They are making 
 money, too, and there are so many of them that they 
 
48 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 are not safe to meddle with at all. The country is 
 going to the Divil with them all. The gentry about 
 Bantry are just mad, for they have lost the market 
 for their fleeces, and they have no claret in their cellars. 
 But what does the Colonel care for that, so long as he 
 is doing the Lord's work, as he calls it. And I have 
 not told ye the worst yet." 
 
 " You have told me bad enough," said Morty 
 sternly ; " but go on with the rest." 
 
 " Well, you will mind the shape of the long strip of 
 land that runs down from Kenmare to the Durseys 
 The mountain line that is in the middle of it paits 
 the counties of Cork and Kerry. The streams on one 
 side fall into Bantry Bay ; on the other, into the 
 Kenmare River. The Colonel's lands and the Earl 
 of Shelbourne's lands meet on the ridge ; but because 
 they are in two counties, and the authority is different, 
 the boys slip across the borders when trouble rises. 
 The Colonel saw that he could never stop the trade 
 as long as the boys had Glanmore and Kilmakilloge 
 free for them. So he gets the ear of the old Earl 
 that is in London — kin of blood they are, I am 
 informed. He has tould him there is no English law 
 in Kerry. He has minded him of what his father 
 did, and the power of money that he made, and the 
 Protestants that he put in up and down the river for 
 the peace of the country. It had all gone to waste, 
 and to the old race, for want of care, and the inter- 
 ference of thim Bishops ; but the law was altered, and 
 now there was no fear for them. He tells the Earl 
 how he has found the copper close by and handy, and 
 if the furnaces are opened in Glanmore again, they 
 can smelt it on the spot and make a brave trade. 
 The Government had been complaining about the 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 49 
 
 Wild-geese and the Rapparees, and the French coming 
 and going. So the Earl has come into it, and he has 
 sent the notice I told ye of, that when Macfinnan Dhu 
 drops, and he has not long to remain with us, the 
 lase will not be renewed, and the agent will take 
 possession of Derreen ; and the bad work we thought 
 we had done with will begin over again. So now you 
 know how it is, Morty. It is for you to save us if 
 you can ; and if you fail us now and ill comes of it, 
 you have had your warning. If you let the Colonel 
 have his way, divil a drop of brandy will ye ever land 
 again in Tuosist, Mr. Blake, or fetch a woolpack from 
 the caves." 
 
 Harder and sterner Morty Sullivan's face had 
 grown as he listened to his kinsman's story. He 
 had lost faith in Irish insurrections. His long and 
 distinguished service in foreign armies, his intimacies 
 with Princes and Statesmen, his occupation with large 
 interests and national concerns, had given him a disgust 
 for local conspiracies and crimes, and for the cowardly 
 patriotism which disguised disaffection behind perjury, 
 and accomplished nothing save an increase in the 
 general misery. Even for his own cousin he had felt 
 little, except contempt, as he listened to his candid 
 confession. But after all, he was himself the chief of 
 a race whose existence was now in peril. He was 
 touched in his pride, for the English Colonel who was 
 doing the mischief was in possession of the Castle of 
 his ancestors. He was shocked at the violence which 
 had been offered to his nearest and dearest relations. 
 He had his o\\\\ personal grievances in connection 
 with the flight from CuUoden, and Goring's share in 
 the pursuit. Some fate seemed to force him into 
 collision with a man who knew nothing of him, save 
 
 4 
 
50 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 as an outlawed follower of Charles Edward, yet at 
 every step of his life was inflicting upon him wound 
 after wound. He sprang from his chair and strode 
 up and down the room while Blake watched the 
 working upon him of a story which had come so 
 opportunely to support his own arguments ; he had 
 forgotten his impatience at the length to which the 
 tale had been drawn out, and only wished that 
 there might be more of it behind. 
 
 " You say this business is coming close upon us," 
 he observed. " What ails Macfinnan Dhu ? He is no 
 older than myself" 
 
 " We age quickly in Ireland, your honour, with the 
 whiskey and the broken heads ; and Macfinnan had 
 his share in both, honest man. But indeed it is the 
 thought of all this, and he the cause of it by his own 
 carelessness, that is like to be the end of him. The 
 Earl's notice about the lase came down the week before 
 I left. A mighty pleasant letter came along with it. The 
 Earl wrote to him with his own hand. No complaint 
 had he to make of Macfinnan, who had always 
 paid his rent like a gentleman. The family should 
 suffer no wrong. They should have the best of his 
 farms, and if the oath Macfinnan would have to swear 
 was unpleasant to him, he would hold him clear of the 
 law : and indeed it would be hard for Macfinnan Dhu 
 or his children to swear they were of the Established 
 Church, and never a church service within reach 
 of them for these forty years. But the Earl said 
 he was going to take up Sir William's colony again, 
 and drain the bogs, and open foundries and fisheries 
 and ' benefit the poor people on the property,' as he 
 was plased to call it. He had all respect for Mac- 
 finnan Dhu, small thanks to him for that same. No 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 51 
 
 alterations were to be made in his life-time, and as a 
 token of his regard and esteem for his old friend, as he 
 called him, he begged leave to send Macfinnan a case 
 of wine, the best he had in his cellar. 
 
 " Macfinnan was in bed with the faver when the 
 letter come. Mighty ill he was at that time, and he 
 calling for the whiskey, and the more we guv him the 
 worse it was with him, but when the letter was 
 brought, and the wine case along with it the Earl 
 spoke of, he up with himself with a spring as if he was 
 shot out of a gun. He flung his old cloak about 
 him. Down the stairs he went, and out at the door, 
 and up the big rock that's there w^ith the sundial on it 
 that Morty spoke of just now. 
 
 " ' Bring up the basket,' says he. Sure if it had 
 been whiskey, he would have been in no such hurry, 
 for it is a sin to throw good liquor away. But for 
 wine, sure it is no drink for a man at all at all. ' Bring 
 it up,' says he again. ' Bad cess to you, what are 
 ye delaying for?' There were six dozen bottles in the 
 case. He out with the first. In a voice which ye 
 might have heard at Colorus, for Macfinnan had ever 
 a wild cry in the throat of him, he called the curse of 
 St. Finian on the stranger that was driving the Celt 
 from the land of his fathers. Then he smashed the 
 bottle on the stone, and the red stain ran down the 
 side of it. Out with another, and then with another, 
 till he had finished the whole of them. Every curse 
 that ever fell from a saint's lips in Ireland, and the 
 holy men, as ye know, had a fine gift that way, he 
 poured out on the Earl's head. In his sickness he 
 had been reading Father Colgan's lives of them, and 
 he had it all ready on his tongue. For all the world 
 he was like an Archbishop ringing his bell and 
 
 4* 
 
52 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 putting the candles out, and for every candle that 
 he quenches sending a soul to hell. Hathen or 
 Christian, prose or verse, 'twas all one to Macfinnan, 
 and at each curse down went a bottle, till the rock 
 was all in a stream, and never a creature touched 
 a drop of it, not even the poor dogs that came run- 
 ning at the noise to keep the master company with 
 their howling. We helped him down when he had 
 done, and if he had relieved his sowl, it seemed as if 
 he had relieved his sickness along with it, for he 
 called for his horse and his pistols, and he swore 
 he would ride to Kenmare and make onasyness for 
 the agent. But we held him quiet that time, and 
 by-and-bye he grew faint-like, and the faver came 
 back upon him, and we got him to bed, and I tould 
 him I would take a cast over in Mr. Blake's brigan- 
 tine that had looked in from the sea, and I'd talk to 
 yourself about it, Mr. Morty, for they said you were in 
 Paris ; but by good luck I have found ye here, and 
 now you know the whole, and you and Mr. Blake 
 can see between ye which ye will be best able to do." 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The reader has been Introduced to the mansion of an 
 Irish exile on the Continent. He must imagine him- 
 self now at the modest home of an Irish landlord resid- 
 ing on his own domains. At the western entrance of 
 Dunboy harbour, a mile from the village of Castle- 
 ton, and at a little distance from the shore, there 
 stood, at the date of our story, a manor house, or 
 something between a manor house and a cottage, 
 which formed an agreeable contrast with the usual 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 53 
 
 forbidding aspect of Irish dwelling-houses. It was 
 low, on account of the storms which in winter sweep 
 round Bantry Bay with peculiar violence. The roof 
 was of purple Valencia slate ; the body of the build- 
 ing was constructed of the grey stone of the district, 
 but was almost concealed by ivy and flowering creepers 
 which covered the walls and clustered about the win- 
 dows. A verandah stretched the entire length of the 
 front, supported on wooden pillars, over and round 
 which twined China roses, with- occasional fuchsias, 
 then newly introduced into Ireland, The back of the 
 house was sheltered by a grove of large trees. Right 
 and left, and scattered about the grounds, were young 
 plantations of pine and oak, and lime and larch, 
 which, if they had the luck to grow, would be protec- 
 tion from every gale that could blow. The lawn was 
 brilliant with the rich green of the after-grass : a light 
 fence, through which there was a gate, divided it from 
 the beach ; and beyond was a landlocked cove where 
 a dozen stout fishing boats were riding at their 
 anchors. On one side, on a rising ground, were the 
 whitewashed barracks of the Coast Guard, with a 
 mast on which flew the white English ensign. On 
 the other, were a row of stone cottages of late erection 
 occupied by a few West of England families, who had 
 been tempted over by reports of the extraordinary 
 wealth of Bantry Bay in every kind of fish. The 
 long brown nets spread to dry upon the shingle, were 
 sparkling with silver scales, for the herring had come 
 in, and the pickling tubs were running over from the 
 heavy catch of the previous night. A large, high 
 island shut off the view of the open water. To the 
 left, was the dark mass of Hungry Hill. To the right 
 a range of heather-clad mountains, which fell in 
 
54 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 precipices to the sea, with creeks and hollows running 
 up among them, fringed, when the tide was cmt, with 
 banks of yellow seaweed. Almost within gun-shot was 
 a grassy promontory on which the ruins stood of 
 the old Dunboy Castle, the confiscated home of the 
 O'Sullivans, which was famous in Irish history for 
 the splendid defence made there against Sir George 
 Carew and an English army. The castle was then 
 taken and destroyed, and had never been rebuilt. 
 The lines of the fortifications were marked by grassy 
 mounds, interspersed with bushes, and a flock of sheep 
 were lazily feeding where the bones of the garrison 
 lay a few feet below them. 
 
 Here lived and here reigned, in the Irish phrase. 
 Colonel John Goring, whose presence and whose 
 actions had drawn so much comment, favourable and 
 unfavourable, in the two counties of Cork and Kerry. 
 The house and the settlement had been erected and 
 created by himself For the first three years after his 
 arrival, he had received some assistance from the 
 Government. The French scare was then fresh, and 
 he had been allowed a small sloop and a dozen men. 
 When peace was signed, the sloop was withdrawn, 
 and as the smuggling had been diminished by the 
 Colonel's energy, the establishment had been reduced 
 till he had barely hands enough remaining to man a 
 long boat. On the other hand the fishing station 
 throve admirably ; the mines in the mountains were 
 of high promise ; and thus, independent of the Coast 
 Guard, the Colonel had men enough of his own who 
 were ready always for any useful sei-vice when he 
 found it necessary to call upon them. 
 
 It was a mild morning early in September in the 
 same year, 175 — , in which we have seen Morty Sul- 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 55 
 
 livan and Sylvester at Patrick Blake's chateau at 
 Nantes. The windows leading into the verandah 
 were open, and in the dark dining-room behind could 
 be seen a second breakfast table, at which were seated 
 the Colonel himself, with his lady and another person, 
 a gentleman, either a visitor or an inmate of the 
 family. Mrs. Goring may have been eight-and- 
 twenty, wnth dark blue eyes, and regular feature.^, 
 just mellowed into mature w^omanhood. She was tall, 
 slightly but strongly shaped, figure and expression 
 bright, lively, and energetic, and a complexion which 
 had rather gained than suffered from Irish weather. 
 She was dressed in the plain serge of the country, 
 home made for home consumption, which English 
 law could not interfere with. 
 
 The Colonel was three or four years older. He, 
 too, was tall and slender. His face, once strikingly 
 handsome, had been disfigured by a sabre cut, which, 
 however, if it spoilt the symmetry of his features, had 
 added to the manliness of his expression. His eyes 
 were dark grey, like a falcon's, with fire flashing in the 
 bottom of them. His mouth was firm and well 
 closed, with a quick play in the lips, which indicated 
 a temperament where emotions might give the law to 
 the mind. Though he was not much past thirty, his 
 chestnut hair was already touched with streaks of 
 silver, as if life had brought anxieties already, which 
 were leaving their marks upon him. 
 
 The third member of the party was less noticeable. 
 He was a quiet, middle-aged man, dressed in plain 
 black, perhaps a scholar, perhaps a minister, gentle 
 mannered and low voiced, and answering when spoken 
 to with a deference which indicated some kind of 
 dependence. His name was Fox. That he was a 
 
56 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 clergyman of some kind, appeared from the address of 
 a letter which the Colonel had just thrown across the 
 table to him, with another to his wife. Before the 
 Colonel himself lay a large heap, which had just been 
 emptied out of the post-bag, a weekly luxury which 
 his various duties compelled him to allow himself. 
 The nearest post-office was at Bantry, and until the 
 Colonel's arrival, the letters for Dunboy had lain 
 there in the window till they were called for. 
 
 On this particular morning his correspondence 
 seemed of exceptional importance ; more than one 
 letter requiring to be read a second time. While he 
 examines them one after another, the opportunity 
 may be taken to fill in and correct the account of 
 him given by Sylvester O'Sullivan at Nantes. The 
 forms of objects, whether persons or things, depend 
 on light and shade. What in one aspect is dark and 
 forbidding, in another is engaging and attractive. 
 
 John Goring had been a boy of fourteen when his 
 brother succeeded to the Dunboy estate. Inheriting 
 from an aunt an independent property of his own, 
 he himself had joined the army on leaving Eton. 
 He had been distinguished on every occasion when 
 the chance had been offered him. He had served in 
 the Low Countries. He had been on the staff of the 
 Duke of Cumberland in the Scotch Campaign. He 
 had been named in the Gazette again and again ; and 
 while making a name for himself in his profession, he 
 had been equally popular in private, and had been 
 respected and admJred by his brother officers. His 
 especial friend and intimate had been Stratford Eyre, 
 with whom he had been sent in pursuit of the insur- 
 gent Highland chiefs after Culloden. When Eyre 
 was sent as Governor to Galway, Goring went with 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 57 
 
 him thither, and it was while he was thus engaged 
 that the news reached him of his brother's death, and 
 of his own succession to the property. He was 
 attached to the service, and was unwilHng to leave it. 
 He was well off, and a neglected estate on the borders 
 of Cork and Kerry was more likely to be an expense 
 to him than an advantage. His first impulse was to 
 have nothing to do with it, and to pass on the un- 
 inviting inheritance to the next heir. But it was one 
 of the occasions when English statesmen had awakened 
 for a brief interval to the disorders of Ireland, and 
 thought it necessary that something should be done. 
 It was represented to Goring that if he wished to 
 serve his country, here was an opportunity thrown 
 especially in his way. The Government offered him 
 the brevet rank of Colonel, with the command of the 
 Coast Guard from Cape Clear to Dingle. Colonel 
 Eyre strongly urged him not to refuse a position so 
 exceptionally honourable and useful. 
 
 They were both convinced, from their experiences 
 in Galway, that the contraband trade was intimately 
 connected with the revolutionary disorder of the 
 country, and that until it was checked in some way, 
 no permanent improvement was possible. His own 
 work, Eyre said, could be carried out far more easily 
 and effectively if a brother officer on whom he could 
 rely was co-operating with him in the creeks and bays 
 of the South. 
 
 The revenue service had a bad name in Ireland. It 
 was odious in itself, because it was an interference 
 with an occupation which nine-tenths of the people 
 regarded as innocent and praiseworthy. A revenu3 
 officer who did his duty generally came to a rough 
 end. If he escaped, it was by dishonest connivance 
 
58 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOV. 
 
 with operations which it was his business to prevent. 
 Even Eyre's representations would not have overcome 
 Colonel Goring's reluctance to meddle with so un- 
 popular a calling. In vain his friend laid before him 
 that the service was discredited by the character of 
 the persons engaged in it, that because gentlemen had 
 declined to exert themselves, the demoralisation had 
 spread till it had becom^e a political danger. Colonel 
 Goring was aware of this, and fully admitted that the 
 business of maintaining order attached to the owners 
 of the land. But he hesitated to admit that he was 
 himself bound to become one of them if he liked to 
 decline, and his reluctance would probably have 
 carried the day if Eyre's entreaties had not been 
 reinforced by arguments of another kind. 
 
 It has often been observed that if a soldier falls at all 
 under spiritual influences, the effect upon him is pecu- 
 liarly strong. At that moment a religious revival was 
 spreading over England and Wales. Whitfield and 
 the two Wesleys were the leaders whose names were 
 brought specially before the world. But these dis- 
 tinguished men appealed to feelings which were 
 already alive and awake. A wave of belief was 
 passing through the minds of men like the sap in 
 trees which lies dormant as if it was dead, and rises up 
 again and clothes the branches with leaves and flowers. 
 The Protestant spirit of the Seventeenth Century, 
 which had shaken the British Constitution, overthrown 
 the Church, and for a king had given us a Protector, 
 was come back to life ; come back in a milder form, 
 no longer threatening wars and revolution, but with 
 power to seize hold on the consciences of hundreds 
 of thousands of human beings, and to make out of 
 evangelical Christianity a practical rule of life. Colonel 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 59 
 
 Goring was one of those who became sensible of the 
 new impulse, and becam_e sensible of it as a call to 
 devote himself to anything which presented itself as a 
 duty. He had always been what is called a religious 
 man, in the sense that he believed that he would be 
 called to account hereafter for his conduct. But his con- 
 victions had ripened from a consciousness of respon- 
 sibility to an im mediate and active sense that he was a 
 servant of God, with definite work laid upon him to do. 
 He carried his habits as a soldier into his relations with 
 his Commander above. Under Cromwell he would 
 have been the most devoted of the Ironsides. In 
 default of an appointed leader to give him orders, he 
 looked out for direct instructions to himself in Provi- 
 dential circumstances, and in any accident which 
 might befall him, he looked habitually to see whether 
 perhaps, there might be a guiding hand in it. 
 
 By this test he had to try finally, when other con- 
 siderations were exhausted, the question whether 
 he was or was not bound to accept the Dunboy 
 property. He had studied Ireland anxiously. He had 
 observed with disgust the growing weakness of the Pro- 
 testant settlement and the reviving energy of the Catho- 
 lics. To him, an Englishman of the old Puritan school, 
 the Pope was anti-Christ. He absolutely disbelieved 
 that Irish Popery could be brought either by conni- 
 vance or toleration into loyal relations with the English 
 Crown. He did not like Penal laws. He knew that 
 the relations of his own country with the Catholic 
 Powers of Europe made the enforcement of such 
 laws impossible, except spasmodically and uncertainly, 
 and he thought that laws which were not rr eant to be 
 obeyed were better off the Statute Book. But he was 
 convinced also that Ireland could only be permanently 
 
6o THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 attached to the British Crown if the Protestants were 
 there in strength enough to hold their own ground. 
 Cromwell's policy of establishing Protestant settle- 
 ments South as well as North was the only rational 
 one. 
 
 It had been too long forgotten. Gal way had, for a 
 few years, been more than half Protestant. Now 
 scarce a Protestant was left within the limits, and as 
 Galway was so were most of the principal towns in 
 Munster. This inheritance, as he thought of it, might 
 possibly be a direction of Providence to him to stem 
 the stream. The longer he reflected the more the 
 conclusion was borne in upon him. The estate had 
 fallen to him as a Divine call, which he was not at 
 liberty to disobey. The revenue office he would 
 accept for the time, and either keep or relinquish 
 it as might seem expedient. As a landowner he 
 would try whether it was possible to do what Crom- 
 well designed, and to make the small section of the 
 country which had fallen to himself cosmic and 
 orderly. He did not deceive himself into expecting 
 help from his neighbours. The gentry of the South 
 were either absentees, living on their rents in London 
 or Bath, or, if residents, adopting the ways of the 
 " Canaanites " for the sake of peace. He was perfectly 
 aware that if he acted differently from those by whom 
 he was surrounded, he would be regarded, if not as 
 a hypocrite, yet as a disturbing and inconvenient 
 clement. But he was willing to run the risk, and he 
 trusted to time to bear him through. 
 
 With these motives and with these purposes Colonel 
 Goring left the army and settled upon his estate at 
 Dunboy two years after the battle of Culloden. 
 He had thus been established there for several years 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 6i 
 
 at the time when our story opens. Fortunately for 
 himself, he was wealthy. He had property in England 
 and property in other parts of the world, which made 
 him independent of his Irish domain. He could carry 
 out any rational plans which he might form without 
 fear of expense. He was respected if he was not 
 popular, for the gentry of the county were out at 
 elbows and admired, in spite of themselves, a man 
 who possessed what they suffered from the absence 
 of In all ranks in Ireland, from highest to lowest, 
 everybody was hungry for something. Mendicancy 
 was the universal rule. Goring wanted nothing, and 
 such spoils as might be going he left to his neigh- 
 bours to divide among themselves. He was super- 
 stitious. He believed himself to be living under God's 
 orders, as a subaltern lives under the orders of his 
 general. But to be superstitious in this sense was 
 only to accept what the Bible told him, and implied 
 nothing dreamy or unreal. Such a Providence be- 
 friended him signally soon after his arrival. He dis- 
 covered copper ore in the mountains in considerable 
 abundance, and it seemed as if intended specially to 
 encourage him in the purpose which he had in view. 
 An experienced engineer from Cornwall having re- 
 ported favourably on the surface indications, he 
 brought over a company of miners — able, energetic 
 workmen, who had been hearers of Whitfield, and 
 shared in his own convictions. A large part of his 
 land was unoccupied, but only required capital and 
 industry to carry crops and cattle. To make his 
 settlement self-supporting and independent of the 
 Catholic farmers and peasantry, he invited Presby- 
 terian labourers and artizans out of Ulster. He was 
 confident that the coast fisheries could be worked to 
 
62 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 profit. Cornwall again supplied him with a dozen 
 boatmen and their families. He had built cottages for 
 them and provided nets and lines and all necessary 
 tackle ; and the common bond among them all was 
 their religious earnestness, which not only made them 
 a single congregation, but united them in a virtual 
 brotherhood. 
 
 Among his tenantry Colonel Goring made no 
 distinction between Catholic and Protestant. No 
 well-behaved occupant was disturbed from his hold- 
 ing. Such as he found connected with the smugglers 
 he resolutely expelled ; the rest he protected to the 
 best of his ability from the effects of their own habits 
 and the pernicious customs of the country. The 
 Established Church had made no converts among 
 them. It was heard of only in the periodic exactions 
 of tithe for the support of a rector whom they had 
 never seen. But convinced as Goring was of the 
 truth of what he himself believed, he could not despair 
 of the effect upon them of a genuine presentation of 
 the Evangelical creed. The Celts of Cornwall and 
 Wales and the Isle of Man had been converted ; why 
 not the Celts of Ireland ? He was wise enough however 
 to trust to time and natural influences. He was indiffer- 
 ently just and indifferently generous. If he could win 
 the Catholics at all, he could win them only by acting 
 consistently on the principles of his own creed. He 
 knew every family on his estate. He was landlord, 
 magistrate, doctor, adviser ; and, aided by the natural 
 instinct of the Irish to look up to their superiors, he 
 gained, first, the confidence, and, more slowly, the 
 actual regard of his own native-born dependents. 
 
 The colonists whom he had introduced, however, 
 were his chief interest, for it was on them and on their 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 63 
 
 well-being that he depended. They had joined him, 
 not merely or principally for the worldly advantages 
 which they might expect, but having been recently 
 converted (as the phrase was) into a certain missionary 
 enthusiasm, they were Protestants of an advanced 
 type, inclining, as was generally found among 
 the most impassioned and most earnest believers, 
 into Calvinism and Independence. Colonel Gor- 
 ing personally had strong sympathy with these 
 forms of thought. He had been born in the Church 
 of England, and as a commissioned officer he had 
 necessarily remained within its pale. But the Church 
 of England with a Catholic Liturgy had Calvinistic 
 Articles ; Whitfield had left it with reluctance, and 
 rather because he was driven out than because he 
 conceived that he was under an obligation to break 
 away. Colonel Goring, being a layman, saw the less 
 reason for withdrawing from the communion to which 
 he naturally belonged, and had there been any parish 
 church with a service in it within riding distance 
 of Dunboy he would have continued to attend. 
 But his sympathies were with his Presbyterian and 
 Independent comrades. In essentials, he thought as 
 they did, and being a man much in earnest, he thought 
 little of things which were not essential. The laws 
 which had ruined so many of the other Protestant 
 settlements had been modified. Nonconformists, 
 whose opinions were not deemed inconsistent with 
 the safety of the State, were now allowed their own 
 chapels, under certain conditions of registration. The 
 Established Church having no existence in those 
 parts, save where it showed its vitality by the demand 
 for tithes. Colonel Goring built a meeting room, 
 attached to his house, where his people could have 
 
64 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 such a service as suited their own convictions. He 
 had invited over a mildly eloquent Falmouth minister, 
 the Mr. Fox who has been already mentioned, to help 
 him. In this extemporized chapel the congregation 
 collected on Sunday mornings and evenings, said 
 their prayers without the help of a liturgy, sang their 
 hymns together, and listened to Mr. Fox's exhorta- 
 tions. They were best pleased, however, when the 
 Colonel himself would take the minister's place, and 
 say a few plain words to them in a soldier's dialect — 
 words which, if without ornament were absolutely 
 sincere, and therefore going straight to hearts as 
 sincere as his own. 
 
 Some difficulties remained with marriages and 
 baptisms and burials, but as the settlement was young 
 these had been so far inconsiderable. A school was 
 a more intricate problem. The serious Protestant 
 communities insisted always on a careful education of 
 their children, and the Act of Uniformity still forbade 
 instruction of any kind in Ireland, except by the 
 clergy of the Establishment. But in this respect the 
 Colonel had borrowed a leaf from the book of Irish 
 anarchy. He had established a school of his own, in 
 the confidence that no one would interfere with him. 
 
 Both school and chapel had their attractions for 
 the Catholics in the neighbourhood. One and 
 another would drop in and listen to the Colonel's 
 preaching. The peasantry till they were taught 
 better saw no reason why their boys and girls might 
 not learn to read and write from the Protestant 
 master, and the Priest of Castleton might have seen 
 his sheep stray away from him, had not circum- 
 stances come to his help. He was interested himself, 
 in being on good terms with Goring, for he had been 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 65 
 
 introduced from abroad, and might have been sent to 
 prison, if Goring had pleased. The Colonel instead 
 of molesting him invited him to dinner on holydays, 
 and the Priest was willing enough to go. For a year 
 or two all friction had been avoided ; Catholics and 
 Protestants worked together in the mines and in the 
 fishing, and in spite of theories of Anti-Christ were 
 very tolerable friends. So perhaps they might have 
 continued, had the Colonel been no more than an 
 improving landlord of Evangelical persuasion. Un- 
 fortunately he had other duties, which brought him 
 into collision with the usages of the neighbourhood. 
 
 On his first arrival, when the war alarm was at its 
 height, his activity in suppressing the smugglers was 
 understood and allowed for. He was strongly sup- 
 ported by the Government, and his official position 
 increased the respect that was paid to him. After 
 the peace things relapsed into their natural condition. 
 The anxiety in high quarters passed off, and local 
 officials, like Colonel Eyre, in Galway, were given to 
 understand that measures which irritated the people 
 were no longer desirable. So long as the contraband 
 trade was not connected with plots for invasion and 
 insurrection, the Irish gentry in Parliament and out of 
 it preferred for reasons of their own that it should not 
 be officially interfered with. The larger smuggling 
 craft, which in war time had cruised as privateers 
 with letters of marque, returned to their old occu- 
 pation as cargo runners. The revenue cutter was 
 simultaneously recalled from Dunboy, the coastguard 
 was reduced in number, and if the Colonel had been 
 contented to look through his fingers while things 
 reverted into their natural channels, he would have 
 only done what was desired and expected from him. 
 
 5 
 
66 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 by the general inhabitants of the country and by the 
 chief authorities in Dublin. 
 
 His conceptions of his duty made such a course 
 impossible to him. He thought that he had effectively 
 put the smuggling down. He saw it suddenly revive 
 while his means of contending with it were reduced. 
 His letters to the Castle were at first coldly replied to, 
 and were then left unanswered altogether. The gen- 
 tlemen in the neighbourhood held aloof in mild 
 surprise that he was unable to do like the rest of them. 
 The terms of his commission were extensive. It 
 was the peculiarity of Irish administration that in 
 theory Protestant officials possessed extravagant 
 powers. Protestant inhabitants had not only the right 
 to possess arms while Catholics had none, but were 
 bound to possess them and to support the magistrates 
 when called on. 
 
 Colonel Goring being an Englishman failed to draw 
 the distinction which he ought to have drawn between 
 theory and practice. Finding the smugglers returning 
 upon him, increased in numbers and audacity, and his 
 own coastguard entirely unequal to encountering 
 them, he drilled and armed his own boatmen, and as 
 many of his other hands as cared to volunteer. With 
 their assistance he again swept the bay, seized half a 
 dozen cargoes, boarded and sank a large French 
 lugger which had been deserted b)' her crew, and 
 made himself more feared than ever. But his success 
 was fatal to the popularity both of himself and his 
 settlement, which came to be looked on as a Saxon 
 garrison. Anger and ill-will took the place of the old 
 friendliness. The priest came no more to dinner. 
 Peasants from the village or the mountains were no 
 longer seen at the chapel, nor Catholic child at the 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 67 
 
 school. A few of the Colonel's smaller tenants re- 
 mained grateful to him for former acts of kindness. 
 Every one of them who wanted anything came 
 clamouring for it, and was profuse in protestations 
 of affection. But the Colonel had sorrowfully to feel 
 that among his Catholic subjects he was rather losing 
 ground than gaining it. Their master he might be as 
 long as he was strong enough to hold his ground ; 
 they would fear and in a sense they would respect 
 him. But they would not accept him as the friend 
 which he had wished and hoped to be. 
 
 Colonel Goring, however, had seen too much of 
 hfe to give way after a first disappointment. He was 
 sure that he was doing right. He was con- 
 stitutionally of a buoyant nature, absolutely fearless, 
 well aware that no good thing was ever achieved 
 in this world without a struggle, and determined that 
 as far as lay in himself he would do his own duty in 
 the department which had been assigned to him. The 
 gentry might be cold to him at first, but they would 
 come round to him by degrees, for self-preservation 
 would drive them to it. Thus he went steadily 
 on, careless what the world might say or do. He 
 never quarrelled with his people about their rents. 
 In such matters he was as indulgent as they had 
 the conscience to ask him to be, and Irish con- 
 sciences will ask a good deal. But any of them 
 whom he detected in correspondence with the 
 smugglers he persevered in sending inexorably about 
 their business — among them the two ladies at 
 Dursey Island, about whom Sylvester O'SuUivan 
 had been so eloquent. He knew nothing of them. 
 He knew only that their " Castle " was the ren- 
 dezvous of dangerous and desperate men, that the 
 
 5* 
 
68 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOV. 
 
 caves in Dursey Island were magazines of arms 
 and stores. 
 
 Letters enough reached him after this, with a 
 sentence of death in them. The officer who had 
 preceded him at Castleton had been shot, and he 
 was to be sent the same road. But the chance of a 
 bullet does not stop a soldier from obeying his 
 orders, and Colonel Goring had received his, as he 
 understood it, direct from his commander-in-chief 
 For the present he was fighting his battle single- 
 handed, but he had been in correspondence with 
 Lord Shelbourne. He had gone to London to see 
 him in person, and explain his situation to him, and 
 the Earl had been so impressed with what he heard 
 that he had taken the steps of which the reader has 
 been already informed, to revive his father's operations. 
 Colonel Goring could look forward confidently and 
 hopefully to the time when these engagements would 
 be carried out. When a second Colony like his own 
 was established a few miles from him across the 
 mountains, the mines could be brought into fresh 
 activity. A large trade would follow, and the wild 
 spirits of Bantr}^ and Kenmare could then be bridled 
 effectivelv and for ever. 
 
 CHAPTER VL 
 
 But we keep waiting the post bag and its contents. 
 Throwing his wife the single letter which he found in 
 it addressed to herself, and another to the minister. 
 Colonel Goring had proceeded to attack the con- 
 sideiable heap which fell to his own share. The 
 first which he took up was from his agent in London. 
 He opened it with the nervousness that men often 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 69 
 
 feel on receiving letters from their agents. The news 
 they contain is generally important, and not always 
 agreeable. His face, however, lighted up as he read. 
 He looked across at his wife. " Elizabeth," he said, " if 
 you are not too much occupied with your own 
 correspondent, I have good news for you about our 
 estate in Jamaica." 
 
 " What a strange coincidence," she said. " My 
 correspondent writes to me on the same subject. 
 She is a good, excellent woman, and she says 
 that being ' professing Christians,' as she calls us, 
 we have no business to own slaves, and that we 
 ought to set them free. I think as she does, John. 
 If any fresh profits have come from that quarter, 
 I don't want to hear of them." 
 
 '' All good people are not of the same opinion on 
 that subject," answered the Colonel quietly. " I have 
 heard it maintained that the slaves on an English 
 West Indian plantation are better off than the poor 
 labourers of Cork or Kerry. God help them if 
 they are not ! But we need not argue about it. The 
 estate is sold." 
 
 " Sold ? " 
 
 " Yes, sold. I told my agent that I wanted to get 
 rid of it. He has found a purchaser, who gives me 
 double what I expected. We can use the money in 
 making our poor people here a little less miserable, 
 and you and your friend can now denounce slavery 
 as much as you please without reflecting on your 
 husband. But here is better and better," as he read 
 on without waiting for an answer, which might not 
 have been completely acquiescent. " The ore from 
 the new shaft which we sent over to be analysed is 
 declared to be the richest in Ireland. One of the 
 
70 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOV. 
 
 largest copper merchants in Swansea is ready to 
 smelt any quantity of it, if we can find vessels to take 
 it over. But we have a way out of that. Hear 
 what comes next. * I have seen Lord Shelbourne's 
 solicitor and I have shown him the report of the 
 analyst. He says the Earl remains determined to 
 restore his father's furnaces at Kilmakilloge and 
 recover his estate from the disorder into which it has 
 lapsed. He waits only for the falling in of the 
 lease, which cannot now be distant. The timber 
 still standing in Tuosist will be amply sufficient to 
 smelt all the copper which you can raise. On the 
 death of the present tenant, which is reported to be 
 imminent, the work is to be immediately proceeded 
 with, and, advanced in years as he is, the Earl 
 hopes, before he leaves the world, to see the barony 
 in the prosperous condition in which his father 
 left it.' 
 
 " What do you think of that ? " the Colonel said, 
 rubbing his hands. " Here is a ray of sunshine in the 
 darkness ; and the West India money comes pat 
 to the purpose. We will drive another galleiy into 
 the mountain, and find work for fifty more of the 
 starving creatures in Castleton." 
 
 Mrs. Goring's conscience might not have been 
 entirely satisfied with the manner in which her 
 husband had cleared himself of the guilt of slave 
 owning. But the results of the sale were to be well 
 applied at any rate. The minister was delighted, 
 and if he saw nothing amiss the harm could not 
 be great. 
 
 Again the Colonel read over his agent's com- 
 munication, making the most of what was agreeable 
 before proceeding to his other letters, the contents of 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY, 
 
 which might not be so pleasant Then, with a grave 
 face, yet struggling with a smile in spite of himself, 
 he perused the next which came to hand. It was a 
 solemn-looking packet, sealed with the episcopal 
 arms of the diocese. 
 
 " This concerns you. Fox," he said. " It is from 
 the Bishop's secretary ; you will hardly believe it 
 genuine. Listen." 
 
 " ' His Lordship has heard with extreme concern 
 that Colonel Goring has been setting an example of 
 disobedience to the law, which his Lordship is unable 
 to characterize in language sufficiently severe. His 
 Lordship understands that Colonel Goring has intro- 
 duced into his estate, from England, a number of 
 persons calling themselves Protestants, professing 
 opinions offensive to God and dangerous to the State ; 
 that he has erected a conventicle, attached to his 
 dwelling-house, where these persons assemble for 
 what they term Divine worship, that he has with 
 him as a minister, a follower of the Schismatic and 
 Sectarian George Whitfield ; nay, that on certain 
 occasions Colonel Goring has himself assumed a 
 preacher's office. His Lordship is informed, further, 
 that Colonel Goring has opened a school for the 
 instruction of the children of these persons, to which 
 also other children of his Irish tenants are allowed 
 access. Colonel Goring, as a magistrate, cannot be 
 ignorant that, in so acting, he is violating the Canon 
 Law of the Church and the Statute Law of the Land. 
 His Majesty has, indeed, with the advice of Parlia- 
 ment, been pleased to concede a liberty of using their 
 own forms of worship to certain classes of Dissenters 
 from the Established Religion, but only under strict 
 conditions, which, in the present instance, his Lordship 
 
72 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 cannot find to have been complied with. The Bishops 
 of Ireland, in reluctantly consenting to this concession, 
 took security that the Indulgence should be extended 
 only to societies in whose orthodoxy in essentials, 
 and in whose lo\'alty to the Crown, assured con- 
 fidence could be felt. It is not to be construed as 
 permitting the introduction of novel forms of belief, 
 which may lead again, as they have led before, to 
 rebellion and civil disturbance. The Act of Parlia- 
 ment therefore permits no meeting-house to be opened 
 for Divine worship which has not been licensed, 
 either by the Bishop or the Archdeacon, or by the 
 magistrates of the county in Quarter Sessions. No 
 such license has been granted to Colonel Goring by 
 either of these courts, nor, if the tenets of Colonel 
 Goring's congregation have been rightly represented 
 to his Lordship, is it possible that such a license will 
 be granted. 
 
 " * The opening of a school is an irregularity of a 
 yet more serious kind. The education of children 
 has been confided entirely to the care of the Church 
 of Ireland. Under the Act o{ Uniformity, no school 
 of any kind is allowed among us which is not under 
 the direction of the ordained clergy. 
 
 " ' His Lordship, therefore, while regretting the 
 painful duty which his office imposes upon him ' (Hang 
 the fellow ! what does he mean by painful duty ? It 
 is never painful to do a duty if it is a real one.) His 
 Lordship, in short, requires me to shut up my conven- 
 ticle, and send my people, if they choose to remain in 
 Ireland, to their Parish Church. — The doors and win- 
 dows were broken out a hundred years ago, and 
 there has never been service in it since. — If no Church 
 school is within reach, the children are to be sent to 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 73 
 
 the Charter School at Cork, where they will be in- 
 structed in the principles of the pure and apostolical 
 faith established in this land. 
 
 " ' His Lordship trusts that Colonel Goring will 
 comply at once with these directions, and spare the 
 Bishop the necessity, which may otherwise be im- 
 posed upon him, of bringing the subject before the 
 Primate.' 
 
 " Did any body ever hear the like ? "' Goring 
 growled. " I do believe Luther was right, when he 
 said that Satan seemed sometimes to enter into these 
 Bishops as he entered into Judas Iscariot. They will 
 be the ruin of this country yet." 
 
 " John, John, don't talk like that," said his wife ; 
 " I can't bear to hear it. Why didn't you listen to 
 me, and ask for the license ? I was sure harm would 
 come of it." 
 
 " No harm can come of it. I have only to write to 
 the magistrates. As far as doctrines go, we might all 
 be members of the Church of Ireland, if there was 
 any church for us to attend. And as to loyalty, our 
 friends, the Presbyterians, showed something of it at 
 Derry and Enniskillen. I don't mean Satan, really — 
 1 mean Ireland's Evil genius — say what you will." 
 
 " Nonsense, John," 
 
 " But it isn't nonsense. License, indeed ! The 
 Catholic Priests ought to take out licenses. Not one 
 in a hundred has a license, or is ever asked for it. 
 There are 500 Protestant Chapels in the North, which 
 have been opened under the Toleration Act. I don't 
 know that in one instance there, either, a license has 
 been applied for. The Law having been once passed, 
 it goes as a matter of course — and, as to the schools, 
 in every village there is some poor Catholic scholar 
 
74 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 teaching shoeless urchins, under a bridge, to read 
 Ovid and Virgil. It is astonishing, by-the-bye, how 
 well they do it. They may break the law, all the 
 country over, and I must not have our poor boys and 
 girls taught reading and writing, for fear I make 
 rebels and heretics of them." 
 
 " You must write to the Bishop, for all that, or I 
 will do it for you," said Mrs. Goring, as she rose and 
 went out under the verandah. 
 
 " I'll tell him, what is quite true," he called after 
 her, " that I had intended to build a little church at 
 Glengariff for the Protestant families that are about 
 there, and that I will do it yet, unless he worries me 
 into turning Dissenter in earnest. Of course I will 
 write to the Grand Jury, and I will see that you are 
 put in a right position," he went on, turning to Fox. 
 " They will be sending their Police down and arrest- 
 ing you else. But you see what a stream we have 
 to struggle against. I really mean it, about the Glen- 
 gariff church. It will not cost very much, and I 
 should prefer the old service for my wife and myself. 
 Some of the others may like to go with us— and you, 
 too, for all that I know. Wesley goes to church, I 
 believe." 
 
 " And I, perhaps, may apply to the Bishop for 
 ordination," said Fox, laughing. " I believe I could 
 satisfy him of my orthodoxy." 
 
 " We will hear what the Primate thinks about it. I 
 can spare the Bishop the trouble of referring to him, 
 for I must go myself, one of these days, to Dublin, 
 and I will hear what his Grace has to say. But it is a 
 lovely morning — we have stayed in too long. I will 
 just glance over the rest of my letters, and we will 
 follow Mrs. Goring." One only called for much atten- 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 75 
 
 tion. It was written in a hand which was evidently 
 disguised, and ran as follows : 
 
 " Sir, 
 
 " I have not had the pleasure of seeing you 
 since ye came to your Government at Dunboy — but 
 I'll see ye once more before all is over, and set ye 
 on your way off the stage to the Elysian fields. 
 This is to give you notice that your coffin is making 
 ready. 'Tis all your own fault, and — for the slaughter 
 ye committed on poor people after CuUoden fight — 
 you'll be served as Lord Lovat's agent was. God be 
 merciful to your soul." 
 
 " Ireland again ! " said he, throwing it down with a 
 sigh. " I am glad Elizabeth is not here. Don't mention 
 it, for these letters always agitate her. I have had so 
 many that I have mostly ceased to attend to them. 
 They mean something or they mean nothing. No 
 one can say. Pat can be a dangerous fellow. He 
 knows no better, and one must be ready for anything. 
 But this is peculiar. Who here knows about Culloden 
 fight or Lord Lovat's steward ? There is some stranger 
 about, and there is mischief in the wind beyond the 
 common. But come out now. It is my morning's 
 levee. You have never yet seen the genuine Irishman, 
 and I can show you the real article," 
 
 On the lawn before the window was gathered a 
 motley congregation of men, women and children, 
 sitting crouched upon the grass ; the women in blue 
 or madder-coloured cloaks, the hoods drawn over 
 their heads, rocking their bodies to and fro and moan- 
 ing half-intelligible sounds ; the men in tattered coats, 
 unbuttoned breeches and hats, once with rim and crown 
 
76 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 and now with neither, the little ones bare-footed, 
 bare-legged, with ragged, uncombed hair, savages but 
 not '' noble savages," whose human nature had to be 
 admitted, but admitted reluctantly. Each one of them 
 wanted something of his honour or the good lady. 
 All had their tale of misfortune, probably most of it 
 lies. But it was low water with the whole of them, 
 you could see that plainly enough, waifs and strays 
 as they were of Irish destiny, helplessly passive as the 
 draggled jelly-fish left dry by the tide. 
 
 The nearest of them, an old man he seemed, but age 
 and youth were not easily to be distinguished, was 
 sitting on a stone step, sipping leisurel}^ the remains 
 of some liquid at the bottom of a wine-glass. 
 
 " Why, Tim," said the Colonel, " I gave you 
 the castor-oil two hours ago. Not done with it 
 yet ? " 
 
 " Ah, your honour, the Lord be good to you for that 
 same, the blessed drink that it is. Would I be swal- 
 lowing it all to the onst? Sure it's drop and drop I 
 take it, and I wish your honour's health and long life 
 to ye, at ache taste." 
 
 "Your honour is a kind master, and you will be 
 good to me," said the next. Your honour '11 mind 
 the little haffer ye giv me the last fall. Och, it was a 
 beautiful little haffer that she was, and it has 
 plased the Lord to take her to himself ; and what will 
 we do with the rint day coming round and the 
 childern crying for the milk ? " 
 
 "Ah, thin, hould your tongue with ye for a dis- 
 contented crature as you are," interrupted a fellow 
 whose head was bound up with a handkerchief 
 "It is little the likes of you hav to complain of, 
 with the best landlord over ye that ever came to 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 77 
 
 Ireland, and himself direct upon ye, and none to come 
 between. It is not one of your own tinants that I am 
 your honour. Glad would I be for that same if it was 
 the Lord's will with me. It is on Mr. White's land 
 that I am, and it was hoping that your honour would 
 spake a word for me, that I am troubling ye this 
 day. Sure there is five that is between me and him. 
 There is Mr. Darby that is in London that has the big 
 lase, and the big lase is parcelled out to three more, 
 and thim again to others before they come to us that 
 put the spade into the ground ; and each one of thim 
 all will have his profit before I'll find so much as a 
 potato to put into the mouths of thim that belongs to 
 me. I was thinking maybe your honour would tell 
 Mr. White that if he would just dale directly with 
 meself that's on the land, and would put thim inter- 
 lopers out of the way, I'd giv him the double any way 
 of what he receives from Mr. Darby, and better it 
 would be for the both of us." 
 
 " That is true for you, my man," said the Colonel, 
 " but it is little I can do for you or Mr. White either. 
 The land comes to us tied up in these leases. There 
 is half my own that I can do nothing with. They 
 will say there was no compulsion on you to take the 
 farm. If you could not live upon it you might have 
 gone elsewhere." 
 
 " And where would I go, }'our honour ? And 
 where would we live at all except upon the land, and 
 where would I find a bit of ground for me except in 
 the place where I was born ? They tell me if I have 
 so much to pay I must work the harder. 'Deed then 
 it is little encouragement we have to work when if I 
 dry a bit of the bog they raise the price upon me, and 
 he that farms the tithes comes and takes the tinth 
 
78 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 of the crops when the nine-tinths have gone already 
 for the rint." 
 
 " Which of them was it that broke your head for 
 you, my good fellow ? " the Colonel said. " You seem 
 to have got a bad hurt there." 
 
 " I'd be none the worse for a bit of the plaister, 
 your honour, and that is true, if the good lady would 
 be plased to help me to such a thing. We wint up in 
 a turf-boat to Bantry, me and Bridget, that is my 
 wife that's here ; " he said, pointing to a big bony 
 woman that sat on the grass near him. " There was 
 more of the boys with us. We had gone to see Mr. 
 White's agent and learn if he would do us any good. 
 And the agent was in Dublin, and we could not see 
 him at all. So we had a taste of drink with the lads 
 of the town, for we were tired after the long row. 
 How it was I don't know, but they got disputing, and 
 from that to joking with Bridget there, and she didn't 
 like it, and she thought I was not standing up for her 
 as I ought ; and indeed what need for me ? for there 
 is not a stouter woman in the county of Cork, and it 
 is nine children that she has, barring one that's with 
 the Lord, for it's overlaid he was. W^ell, Bridget she 
 got angry, and she whipped the stocking off the foot 
 of her and dropped a ground apple into the toe. 
 Och, but she laid about her that time, and the first 
 person she hit was her own husband, and so your 
 honour my head was broke, but troth, it is many times 
 she has broke it, the darlin', and a good wife she is to 
 me. The Lord receive her into glory." 
 
 Goring took down the man's name and address, for 
 there were many more petitioners waiting to be at- 
 tended to, and then passed him over for his wounds to 
 be looked to. He was the arbiter of all disputes in 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 79 
 
 the barony and the universal doctor in all diseases 
 and accidents. Women had come to denounce each 
 other for scandal-mongering — somebody's pig had 
 broken the wall of the next garden — somebody's 
 donkey had eaten a neighbour's cabbage — neighbour- 
 ing cottiers were wrangling over their boundaries — 
 babies had been changed in the cradles by the " good 
 people " — and the Colonel had to advise whether the 
 changeling should be thrown into the sea or into 
 the fire. The commonest demand was for medicine 
 to cure ailments for which no cure was possible, as 
 they had grown out of neglect and poverty. Children 
 had burnt their hands and legs, or upset the kettle 
 and scalded themselves. Croups, fevers, broken limbs, 
 and wounds — the Colonel was to prescribe for them 
 all. He had but to speak the word and it would be 
 enough. They would hang a draught about their 
 necks and believe the effect would be the same as if 
 they swallowed it. 
 
 " You see these poor people," Goring said to his 
 companion when the lawn had been almost cleared, 
 " they have absolute confidence in me. They trust me 
 with their lives and their properties. Everything that 
 I tell them they do. Every judgment that I give they 
 respect. They know that I mean them well. They 
 believe in me, and I suppose that in their way they 
 have a regard for me. Yet of all the men you have seen 
 here to-day there is hardly one who would not try to 
 shoot me if he was so ordered by the Secret Societies ! 
 There is not one, man or woman, who, if I was killed 
 by the smugglers, would help to bring the murderers 
 to justice. They are taught from their cradles that 
 English rule is the cause of all their miseries. They 
 were as ill off under their own chiefs ; but they would 
 
So THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 bear from their natural leaders what they will not 
 bear from us, and if we have not made their lot more 
 wretched we have not made it any better. There is 
 not a race in the world who would be happier or more 
 loyal if they were governed with a firm and just hand. 
 England has tried every other remedy. This, which 
 is the only one which can succeed, she has never 
 tried, and I fear she never will." 
 
 Such comfort, help, admonition, as was possible, 
 had been distributed to the various applicants, and 
 they had been dismissed for the day. The women 
 had fallen chiefly to Mrs. Goring, and her share of 
 the morning's labour had not been the lightest. But 
 the tongues were at last silent, and the owners of them 
 had gone away, to return most of them with fresh 
 complaints on the morrow. There lingered only a 
 girl, barefooted, but neatly dressed, who had crouched 
 patiently at the back of the rest, waiting till their 
 clamour was over, as the Irish al\va\'s do when they 
 have a real sorrow. 
 
 " And who may you be ? " said the lady. " I never 
 saw you before — you are a stranger ! " 
 
 " I am called Moriarty, your ladyship. I am from 
 Glenbeg, beyond the mountains yonder," the girl 
 answered in a low, modest voice. 
 
 "And what do you want with us?" Mrs. Goring 
 enquired with interest, for this last petitioner was un- 
 like any of the rest. '' What can we do for you ? " 
 
 " Oh, my lady ! You have a kind face, and you will 
 not be angered with me for coming to you ! Maybe 
 I shouldn't be here, but where I'd go else in the wide 
 world 1 don't know, and it's not for myself that I'm 
 seeking you. My father— his honour the Colonel will 
 have heard the name of him — has the farm at the 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 head of the glen that's above x^rdgroom. There is 
 none but meself to hve with him, and none but him 
 to take care of me, for my mother is dead, the Lord 
 be good to her soul ! and my brothers are gone 
 away beyond the seas, and we know nothing what 
 may have become of them ! And my father has got 
 the sickness upon him, and he is upon his bed and he 
 speaks never a word ! And Father McCarty came 
 up from Eyris and give him the Blessed Sacrament 
 and tould him he need come no more, for it was six 
 miles away, and my father would soon be in glory. 
 But that was two days back, and he is moaning yet, 
 and he has been a kind father to me, and I'd heard 
 speak of your ladyship and of his honour that there 
 was none like ye. You'll know, maybe, what we 
 should do, and you will give him back to us ! " 
 
 The Colonel had by this time joined his wife, 
 
 " What is the matter with your father ? " he asked. 
 " What does he complain of? " 
 
 " 'Deed, your honour, how can I know what is the 
 matter with him ? He just lies on his back and never 
 spakes a word, but he puts his hand upon his breast 
 and moans, and looks wild out of tlie eyes of him ! " 
 
 " Does he take any food ? Wliat have you given 
 him to eat? Perhaps he has swallowed something 
 that has gone amiss with him ! " 
 
 " Sorra bit of anything has passed his lips since the 
 priest came," she sobbed, " and, indeed, there has been 
 little in the house for either of us, since the drivers 
 came and took the cows away, barring a few spades 
 of potatoes that is left in the bog ! " 
 
 " My good girl," said Goring, " I cannot prescribe 
 for a sick man in such a state as you describe with- 
 out seeing him. How far off do you live ? " 
 
 6 
 
82 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 " 'Tis eight Irish miles by the road, your honour, 
 and it is a wild place and a wild track to it ! And it 
 is time I was on the \^'ay home, for I left a friend from 
 a cabin that is not far off to watch if he wanted any- 
 thing while I was away, but he can ill bear me out of 
 his sight, and I must be getting back before the sun is 
 under the hill. It is not for your honour to be putting 
 yourself out for the likes of us that don't belong to 
 you. I thought ma}^be }^e'd give me something to take 
 home with me that would do him good ; but if ye 
 cannot, God save your honour and your ladyship, and 
 kindly thank ye ! " 
 
 She gathered herself up, curtsied, and was going 
 away, but she staggered after a few steps and sank 
 again on the grass. 
 
 " God help them ! " the Colonel said, *' I believe they 
 are both starving ! Take the girl in and give her 
 something to eat. She has come all this way on foot 
 this morning and tasted nothing. I will go to 
 Glenbeg myself ; it is but a morning's walk. A boy 
 can lead a pony with a basket and food, and this poor 
 young creature can ride." 
 
 Faint as she was she again struggled to her feet 
 and insisted that she was strong enough to walk and 
 must set out at once. " There was no need," she 
 said, " for his honour to be toiling over the hills, and 
 maybe he might meet with those he'd be sorry to fall 
 in with." 
 
 But she had overrated her powers. She was utterly 
 exhausted, and was obliged with many tears to 
 own it. 
 
 Rest and food were indispensable before she could 
 even sit upon a horse, while if her father was to be 
 saved, there was not a moment to be lost. 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 83 
 
 Goring, who by this time knew something of Irish 
 character, discovered in her objection to his going 
 that there was something which she had not told 
 him behind. There was a shorter path to Glenbeg, 
 over the mountains, entirely solitary, with which he 
 was perfectly familiar. In quieter times he had shot 
 over the moors on the ridge, and knew every turn and 
 point among them. The moors would be safer than 
 the road, and walking would be safer than riding, as 
 he would be less likely to be observed if dangerous 
 people were abroad. He. determined to go alone 
 taking his gun and dog with him, as if his object was 
 but a brace or two of moor fowl. Putting a flask, 
 with some sandwiches' and restoring medicines, in his 
 pocket for immediate use, he whistled to his favourite 
 pointer and started up the hillside, leaving orders with 
 a servant to follow on horseback with the girl by the 
 road as soon as she should be able to move. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 It was a glorious September morning, and still 
 wanted an hour of noon when Colonel Goring set 
 out from his house. Glenbeg lay the other side of 
 the watershed, on the slope towards the Kenmare 
 River, and the way to it was across the dividing ridge. 
 The scenery is treeless, and utterly wild and desolate. 
 After reaching the top of the mountain range, you 
 walk for miles among heathery moors and swamps, 
 where the streams rise which fall east and west into 
 one or other of the two bays. Half-a-dozen ragged 
 peaks break the outline of the range, buried in clouds 
 in wild weather, on such a morning as the present, 
 standing sharp and clear against the azure sky. From 
 
 6* 
 
84 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 Lackawee, which is one of the loftiest of them, you 
 look immediately down upon Glenbeg Lake, two 
 thousand feet below you. Beyond it is Ardgroom 
 Harbour and Kenmare River, and far away the 
 Killarney Reeks and the Purple Mountains and 
 Mangerton. 
 
 Leaving Hungry Hill far on his right. Colonel 
 Goring ascended the brook which fell into the sea 
 behind his house. After climbing sharply for a couple 
 of miles he reached the cradle of the stream in a 
 wide morass. The peat was dry in the clear autumn 
 weather. The air was fresh and delicious, and per- 
 fumed with heather. On the banks, between which 
 the tiny rivulet trickled along, were patches of rich, 
 green grass, where sheep and cattle ought to have 
 been feeding, but there were no signs of either, nor of 
 any human creature. Nature was left alone in her 
 wasteful beauty, and as there was no wind, the silence 
 was unbroken, save by the croak of a passing raven, 
 the sharp bark of an eagle, or the whirr of some old 
 cock grouse, whom the dog had scented out among 
 the moss hags. Goring's thoughts were so much 
 occupied that more than one fine point had been 
 neglected, and the dog had looked round in reproach- 
 ful surprise as the bird, whose presence he had 
 indicated so skilfully, flew away unharmed. The 
 Colonel had been a famous shot in his youth. To 
 please his poor companion he brought down a brace of 
 birds as he walked ; but he was in a hurry and could 
 not linger. He had crossed the bog, and reached the 
 hillside the other side of it. A few hundred \'ards 
 distant rose the highest point in all the neighbour- 
 hood, with a cairn of stones on the top of it. He was 
 examining the shape of it, and speculating on the 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 85 
 
 origin of its singular name, Maulin, when he ob- 
 served the dog questing round in a way which showed 
 that he scented something, but was not satisfied as to 
 what was before him. The dog stood, then broke his 
 point and ran on again in the direction of the cairn, 
 then stopped again, as if puzzled and uncertain. He 
 supposed at first that a pack of grouse might be 
 running on in front, but instead of carrying his head 
 up as he would have done had there been birds before 
 him, the animal was snuffling uneasily along the 
 ground, but always making towards the top of the 
 hill. 
 
 The manner was so peculiar that Goring followed, 
 curious to know what it could be. As he advanced, 
 a couple of ravens rose just out of gunshot, apparently 
 from among the stones of the cairn. Another rising 
 immediately after, he concluded that, scanty as the 
 sheep on the hills seemed to be, one of them must 
 be lying there which had come in some way by its 
 end. He turned, called the dog off, and was going on, 
 when he heard himself suddenly hailed by a human 
 voice. From behind a grey rock a few yards from 
 him there stepped out a tall, slight, athletic, active- 
 looking man, who might be some five-and-twenty 
 years old. Eccentric as was the costume of the Irish 
 Squireens of the period, it was evidently not to them 
 that he belonged. He had a hat like a Spanish 
 muleteer, a short, braided jacket, breeches supported 
 by a belt about his waist, and light boots and leggings' 
 He carried a gun upon his arm, and looked like a 
 sportsman — a gentleman and a foreigner. 
 
 Goring observed him with some surprise and some 
 suspicion. The stranger, however, seemed perfectly 
 unembarrassed. " Good morning, sir," he said in 
 
86 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 correct English, though with a slightly foreign 
 accent. *' It is a fine day among the hills. You 
 have had sport ? I heard your gun half-an-hour ago." 
 
 " There are a few birds on the lower ground," 
 answered the Colonel, " but not many. There is 
 little game in this country to tempt visitors. You 
 came this morning from Kenmare, I presume ? " 
 
 " I came from the place where I spent last night," 
 replied the stranger smiling. " I am on a mountain 
 walk with my gun, like yourself. That is all which 
 we at present know of each other. May I ask to 
 whom I am speaking ? " 
 
 " I am Colonel Goring, of Dunboy, sir, the 
 principal magistrate in this district — for want of a 
 better." 
 
 " I supposed as much," the stranger said. " There 
 cannot be two persons in such a neighbourhood so 
 distinguished in appearance as I have always heard 
 that officer to be." 
 
 " Having told who I am," Goring said, not choosing 
 to notice the compliment, " it becomes my duty to 
 enquire in turn who you may be ? " 
 
 " It matters little, sir," the stranger answered. " I 
 call myself a foreigner. I was born yonder, I believe," 
 and he pointed toMacGillicuddy's Reeks, " but I have 
 passed most of my life abroad. I am here but for a 
 few days, and am using my time to look about me in 
 your mountains. In a week I shall be gone. This, 
 perhaps, is information enough." 
 
 " I am sorry to seem discourteous," said the 
 Colonel, " but it is not enough, and since I have 
 told you that I am a magistrate, you will understand 
 why it is not enough. You carry a gun. Have you 
 a license for it ? 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 87 
 
 " I have such license as I give to myself," the youth 
 coolly replied. '' In the country that I came from 
 that is sufficient and must suffice here." 
 
 ** It will not suffice here, sir," the Colonel said 
 sharply. '' I must suppose that you are ignorant of 
 the rules. No person is allowed to carry arms in this 
 country who has not satisfied the authorities that he 
 is entitled to carry them. The law requires me to 
 insist that you give a fuller account of yourself." 
 
 '' The law may require you, sir," the stranger re- 
 joined, with the same mocking calmness. " The law 
 requires many things in Ireland which it does not get 
 I am told. I may ask too, what law ? Kerry law, I 
 have heard, is to do no right and to take no wrong. 
 We are in Cork now, I believe. The border is within 
 a few yards of us, but we are on the eastern side. 
 What the law is in Cork you may see a few yards 
 from you." 
 
 He pointed to the cairn. Goring looked and he 
 saw, if it was not a dream, something like a human 
 head projecting above the stones. The eye-sockets 
 were empty ; the skin and flesh were torn from the 
 bones. The beaks of the ravens and the teeth of the 
 mountain foxes had broken through the skull. Half 
 the brain had been devoured and the rest was oozing 
 down in a ghastly stream over the neck. Goring's 
 nerves had been hardened on the battlefield, but a 
 sight so horrid and so unlooked-for for a moment 
 entirely overcame him. He recovered himself and 
 sprang up the cairn. Through the chinks between 
 the boulders he could make out the body of a man 
 but lately dead, for the clothing was unsoiled and dry, 
 and no rain had fallen since it had been placed in its 
 present position. It was fast bound to a stake which 
 
88 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 had been driven into a crack in the rock and the 
 stones had been heaped up round it. 
 
 " That, sir," said the stranger, " is, or was, two da}'S 
 since, what they call here a tithe proctor. The tithe 
 is a tax which the law, of which you spoke, requires 
 the Catholic peasants of this country to pay to a 
 minister whom they have never seen, in support of a 
 religion in which they do not believe. The collection 
 of this tax being dangerous, the minister is content 
 with half of it, which he enjoys in safety five hundred 
 miles away. The proctor keeps the other half in 
 return for the risk which he runs, and now and then, 
 as you see, it goes hard with him. I am told the 
 proctors, as a body, do not object to an accident now 
 and then, as it keeps up the price of their services." 
 
 " Whatever else I see," replied Colonel Goring, " I 
 see a very dangerous person before me at this 
 moment. A foul murder has been committed ; I find 
 you, sir, upon the spot, and by your own confession 
 you know something of the assassins. There must be 
 an instant inquir}-, and I cannot lose sight of yourself 
 There is a poor man, a mile or two beyond this, in 
 danger of death, to whom I am carrying relief, and I 
 will not leave him even for this frightful business ; you 
 will have to accompany me, sir, and will then return 
 with me to Dunboy." 
 
 " I shall be sorry to disappoint you. Colonel," the 
 stranger rejoined, still with unbroken composure. 
 '* My engagements and my pleasure require my 
 presence elsewhere. I am armed, as you perceive, as 
 well as yourself. I am as light of foot as you are, 
 and possibly lighter. I am ready, if }'OU please to 
 listen to me, to give )'ou such information as I think 
 expedient. You will choose whether you will hear 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 me quietly, and then leave me to go my way, or take 
 your chance of what you can get by violence. I tell 
 you distinctly that of this man's death I knew nothing 
 till last night. I came hither merely to see with my 
 own eyes an example of Irish revenge. Possibly 
 his death was not intended. Those who brought him 
 hither may have meant to give him a warning which 
 he would not forget, and the cold and the terror may 
 have killed him. For the sick man you speak of, if 
 you mean Moriarty of Glenbeg, you may spare your 
 anxiety. Help has already reached him." 
 
 Colonel Goring could not refuse a certain admira- 
 tion for the coolness with which he was defied. But 
 his duty was still plain. " I choose nothing and I 
 promise nothing," he said. " I must arrest you in the 
 king's name." 
 
 " It matters not," the stranger answered. " I will 
 tell you what it is good for you to know. Attempt to 
 touch me and I am gone ; but you are said to be a 
 friend to the poor Irish, or as much a friend as any 
 Englishman can be, and I will save you, so far as I 
 can, from running into danger. The old man- whom 
 you are on the way to visit has held the farm of 
 Glenbeg for forty years, and his father held it before 
 him. The rent they paid was light and the Annesleys, 
 or whoever they were that owned the land, gave them 
 no trouble. The estate passed to others. The 
 Moriartys held by custom, and custom was forgotten. 
 It was let and underlet again, according to the 
 modern usage. The occupying tenant's rent was 
 trebled, and on such terms he could not live. The law 
 allowed these things and the courts maintained them. 
 He would have starved or have been driven out, but 
 he found friends where the owners and the middle- 
 
90 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 men were content that he should find them. He 
 found traders who would give him twice the market 
 price for his fleeces. He dealt with them. He paid 
 his exorbitant rent with the profits which he was thus 
 able to make, and all went well again till you, sir, 
 came into the country and ordered that the trade 
 which had saved him should cease. You drove off 
 the foreigners who came to buy ; you shut the har- 
 bours against them ; you seized their boats ; you 
 insisted that the law should be obeyed. The effects 
 of what you have done you may see in the fate of 
 this Moriarty of Glenbeg. Your laws were unjust. 
 Natural justice refused to recognise them, and natural 
 justice you will not allow. It proves too strong for 
 you. This poor man could no longer meet the 
 middleman's demands. His rent fell in arrears. For 
 two years he paid nothing because he could not. The 
 middleman, an attorney at Kenmare, seized his sheep 
 and cattle. He struggled on with his oat patches and 
 potatoes. On the top of all came the proctor, a 
 month since, in the name of religion, swept off his 
 crops, carried away the poor furniture of his cabin, 
 and left him, with his child, to perish. That natural 
 justice, sir, which your laws set aside, would not allow 
 such an act to go unpunished. 
 
 " There were persons, individually unknown to me, 
 who heard what had been done. The instrument of 
 legal tyranny had himself sought his occupation, 
 and lived by the exercise of it. They concluded 
 that such a wretch required to be dealt with. They 
 caught him, it needs not to say how or where, they 
 brought him hither, close to the scene of his crime, 
 that they might make an example of him to the 
 country round. They fastened a stake in the 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY, 91 
 
 middle of yonder cairn, they bound him to it, and 
 they bound his arms to his side. They piled the 
 stones round him to his neck and left him with the 
 eagles and the ravens. 
 
 "As for Moriarty, other friends, who had traded with 
 him in better days, heard last night that he was dying 
 of hunger. Relief was sent to him immediately, and 
 it arrived soon after the poor man's daughter had gone 
 for help to you. They were in time to save him, and 
 you need have no further anxiety on his behalf. I 
 further assure you, since you may have to make 
 enquiries into the execution of this proctor here, that 
 Moriarty was in his bed and unconscious when the 
 wretch received his due, and is as ignorant as myself 
 by whom the punishment was inflicted. Do not 
 therefore trouble further an innocent and injured man. 
 For yourself, sir, let me give you a friendly warning. 
 I bear you no ill will, but there are others who do. 
 I advise you expressly to go no further on your 
 present errand." 
 
 With these words, and politely touching his hat 
 when he had done, the youth sprang lightly behind 
 the rock against which he had leant while he was 
 speaking. Goring darted forward to detain him, 
 only however to see his late companion bounding 
 down the hill like a cricket ball, and passing out of 
 sight round a spur of the mountain. Pursuit was 
 useless, and he was left alone to consider what he 
 would do. The stranger he was satisfied must be 
 one of the officers of the French Irish Brigade who 
 had come on a recruiting expedition. They had 
 disappeared after the Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, but 
 some of them had been reported to him as being 
 again in their old haunts ; and if they were not 
 
92 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 personally concerned in the local outrages of the 
 district, it was evident that they were in confidential 
 relations with the insurgent leaders, were acquainted 
 with their secrets and in active sympathy with their 
 objects. That a crime so audacious should have been 
 perpetrated within four miles of his own residence 
 and almost within sight of it, was a frightful evidence 
 of the revival of a lawless spirit. He connected it 
 with the letter which he had received in the morning. 
 The sensational features of it had been borrowed from 
 the Whiteboys of Tipperary, and indicated a concert of 
 action. That the people had real wrongs to com- 
 plain of, that the agrarian administration had been 
 careless and cruel, was as well known to Colonel 
 Goring as to the most furious Irish conspirator. 
 But acts of lawless ferocity would only irritate the 
 English Government into spasmodic severities, which 
 would leave things worse than they were, and place 
 any rational remedy for the chronic misery of Ireland 
 at a greater distance than ever. 
 
 He forced himself to climb again to the top of the 
 cairn and examine the condition of the being who 
 had perished there. The blocks of stone had been so 
 disposed round his body that no injury to a vital 
 organ could have hastened the conclusion of his 
 sufferings. There he must have stood, motionless, 
 helpless, on that desolate height while the sun had 
 risen and had set into the sea, the power to cry 
 taken from him by a gag forced into the mouth, 
 while the carrion birds gathered round and stood 
 watching with deliberate eyes till life and strength 
 had waned sufficiently to allow them to begin their 
 repast. 
 
 Every detail which Goring could observe confirmed 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 93 
 
 the stranger's story. The body was bound to a stake 
 as he had said. The arms had been pinioned to his 
 side. The flesh, though torn by the ravens, had not 
 begun to decompose. At the utmost, life could not 
 have been extinct more than 48 hours. He piled 
 stones on the head to protect what was left of it till 
 the remains could be carried down and buried. The 
 discovery ought immediately to be published. The 
 loss of two or three hours however, was of no serious 
 consequence, and Goring decided to go on first, in 
 spite of the warning, to Moriarty's farm house. The 
 danger with which he was threatened was itself 
 inviting, for it implied that he might come on the 
 traces of the murderers before the scent was cold. 
 As to the risk to himself, it was not that he was 
 exceptionally brave, but he never thought about the 
 matter. He was convinced that nothing could 
 happen to him except what was ordained by his 
 Master. This he was equally con\'inced would 
 happen whether he troubled himself about it or 
 not. 
 
 Leaving the Cairn, with its horrid contents, he 
 strode rapidly along the high ground in the opposite 
 direction from that in which the stranger had dis- 
 appeared. After walking for half an hour he turned 
 the shoulder of Lackawee, and saw the peaceful 
 waters of the Lough stretched out at his feet. Often 
 when grouse shooting, a few )'ears back, he had 
 stopped for his luncheon at that spot, lying on the 
 -perfumed heather, and watering his whiskey from a 
 spring which bursts there out of the mountain side. 
 
 Beautiful it was as ever, the quiet Islands at the 
 mouth of the Kenmare River, dark and solid, and the 
 far off Skelligs rising blue on the horizon as if shaped 
 
94 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 out of transparent mist. But Goring was too anxious 
 now to think about the landscape. The cabin which 
 was the object of his visit, stood on a green bank on 
 an Island formed by a river, which divided behind it, 
 then joined again in a single stream, and flowed out 
 into the Lough. It was eighteen hundred feet below 
 him, but the slope was grassy and clear of stones, and, 
 partly sliding, partly running, he was soon at the 
 bottom. The cottage itself was not superior to the 
 ordinary Irish cabins. The walls were of mud, the 
 roof of thatch, half of which had been torn off by 
 the wind. A hole in the middle of it blackened with 
 soot served for a chimney, and a hole in the wall for 
 a window. Glass it had none, and a wisp of straw was 
 thrust into it to keep out cold and rain. The door 
 had fallen off its hinges and lay on the ground. Out- 
 side were half a dozen small green enclosures divided 
 by stone walls, where sheep and cows and geese and 
 pigs had once fed, and perhaps fattened, but all were 
 now deserted. 
 
 Four acres of yellow stubble clean of weed, showed 
 where an oat-crop had grown and had been cut and 
 carried. Four weeks since those oats had been 
 yellowing for the harvest. The oats were gone, and 
 the man who had taken them away was rotting on 
 the hill-top. 
 
 In wet weather the cabin itself could only be ap- 
 proached by wading. The water was now low, and 
 there was a line of stones which were dry. Looking 
 sharply on all sides, for he could not tell who or what 
 might be near, Colonel Goring stepped across, and 
 went up to it. Not a symptom was to be seen of 
 any living thing ; the sunshine streamed in freely 
 through the open door ; he entered ; a spinning- 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 95 
 
 wheel lay overturned on the floor, with the fragments 
 of a broken stool. There were ashes on the hearth, 
 but they were cold. The scanty earthenware, the 
 iron hook and kettle, which the poorest Irish house- 
 hold cannot do without, were all gone. At first it 
 seemed as if there was not so much as a bed, for none 
 could be seen, not even the rush heap or peat stack 
 which occasionally serves for one, nor did it seem as if 
 there was space for any second room. Looking care- 
 fulh', however, Goring discovered at last a latch in the 
 inner wall. Lifting it he found himself in a narrow 
 shed, into which light made its way feebly through the 
 holes in the roof. Here as his eyes grew accustomed 
 to the darkness, he perceived a frame of boards 
 nailed together and strewed with fern. This had been 
 the old man's sleeping place, and there was a pallet 
 in a corner for the girl who had come to him in the 
 morning. But the bed was empty, the occupant of it 
 was gone. Everything was gone. For any sign that 
 could be traced, no human creature need have been 
 near the place for days or weeks. Part of what he 
 saw was easily explained ; the small comforts, the 
 bare necessaries of life, had been seized for the 
 rent. But where was the old man himself, and 
 where were those who had brought him help ? The 
 utter desolation was more startling to him than if 
 he had found himself in a nest of Rapparees ; for 
 all that he could tell they might be hidden under 
 the river banks, and might spring out upon him at 
 any moment. 
 
 The pointer, however, who would scent the 
 presence of man more easily than he could do, gave 
 no sign, but looked composedly in his master's face. 
 B)' degrees he assured himself that he and his dog 
 
96 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 were the only living creatures on the spot. And he 
 presently found a partial clue to the mystery. There 
 was a post on the shore with a chain, to which a boat 
 had been attached. The chain was loose, the boat 
 was gone, and there was the mark of the keel on the 
 shingle where it had been run down into the water. 
 The party who had brought the food had afterwards 
 carried the old Moriarty down the lake, perhaps to be 
 out of the way when enquiry came to be made into 
 the murder. What was he to do now ? 
 
 The horse track from Dunboy by which the girl 
 would be coming with his servant followed the shore 
 to the bottom of the Lough. There bending to the 
 left it had been carried up another valley, and by 
 a lower pass through the mountains. He thought at 
 first that he had better return this way and meet them. 
 But he reflected that the persons from whom the 
 stranger had warned him that he might be in danger 
 had gone in that direction. They would be on the 
 look-out for the girl, for they knew where she had 
 been, and he could be satisfied that she would be 
 taken care of His groom would be safe enough, for 
 the Irish did not commit gratuitous crimes, and thc}- 
 could gain nothing by injuring a servant. He himself 
 might be throwing his life away to no purpose. So 
 he concluded that his wisest course would be to go 
 back by the way that he had come, and to send a 
 party as speedily as was possible to bring down the 
 body from the cairn. 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 97 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A YEAR had passed over the settlement at Dun- 
 boy since the incident described in the last chapter, 
 a year which had brought with it the ordinary vicissi- 
 tudes of good and evil, but had made no distinct 
 alteration in Colonel Goring's purposes or pro«6pects. 
 The event to which he looked forward as so im- 
 portant to his complete success had not yet taken 
 place. Macfinnan Dhu's constitution continued to 
 bear up against age and fever, and whiskey, and Lord 
 Shelbourne's intended reforms at Kilmakilloge were 
 not to be commenced till he was gone. The body of 
 the man who had been murdered had been brought 
 down from the mountain. An inquest had been held 
 upon it, but no evidence could be had to identify the 
 perpetrators, and the verdict found was against persons 
 unknown. The old Moriarty had reappeared after a 
 time at his cabin, and with signs of improved circum- 
 stances. Cows again browsed upon his meadows 
 and sheep upon the hills. The house itself was 
 enlarged and comfortably furnished. But the 
 suspicions which might have attached to his pros- 
 perity as connected in some way with the crime were 
 dispelled, first by the Priest who had visited him, and 
 swore that at the time of the murder he was unconscious 
 and was then supposed to be dying ; and secondly, 
 by the accidental discovery that his re-establishment 
 on his farm under so much happier conditions was due 
 to no one but to Colonel Goring himself, who had 
 purchased the lease of Glenbeg and bought out the 
 
 7 
 
98 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 middlemen, and had taken the poor old man for his 
 own immediate tenant. 
 
 Gradually the nine days' wonder was forgotten, and 
 things fell back into their old groove. Agrarian 
 crimes were too common in Ireland to produce any 
 lasting impression. The story generally believed was 
 that the murder had been committed b\' the crew of 
 some smuggling vessel which had afterwards vanished 
 off the coast. That this was the true account of it 
 was Goring's own opinion. Moriarty could have told 
 something had he chosen, but he pleaded absolute 
 ignorance. He professed to have been too ill to have 
 discovered \\\\o the persons were who had brought 
 him food and carried him down the lake. He could 
 not even explain where he had been in the interval 
 before he reappeared in the Glen. Goring under- 
 stood his silence and did not press him. The moun- 
 tain tenants had been barbarously oppressed. His 
 aim was rather to win their confidence than act upon 
 their fears. He had broken down the system under 
 which they suffered on his own property. He bought 
 in the leases of the farms on his border, Moriarty's 
 among the rest ; he tried to attach them to himself by 
 personal attention and kindness, and he hoped that 
 he was not failing altogether, and that, if fail he did, 
 it was not due to any fault of his own. 
 
 Meantime his own settlement continued to prosper. 
 The yield of the fishery was abundant. The fish 
 houses on the Island were crowded with herring 
 barrels, and the dried cod and ling stood in stacks 
 upon the shore till French and English dealers came 
 in for them. The mines pro\'ed richer and richer as 
 fresh lodes were opened. They furnished employ- 
 ment to large numbers of the native Irish, and a kind 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 99 
 
 of intercourse was still maintained, not wholly un- 
 friendly, between the old inhabitants and the new. The 
 young English lads were not insensible to the charms 
 of the mountain girls, and the girls if left to them- 
 selves might have not been entirely irresponsive. 
 But prejudices and circumstances were too strong for 
 superficial inclinations. As the variously coloured 
 waters of two rivers when they meet in a single channel 
 flow on side by side before they will consent to mix, the 
 difference in race, in character and in creed, continued 
 to keep apart the Cornish Calvinist and the Catholic 
 of Cork and Kerry. They were independent of 
 each other, for they had each their separate farms. 
 The contraband trade was a fatal and constant 
 occasion of anger among the Irish. The English 
 looked down on them as half-savages, and could not 
 be prevented from showing it ; and thus the intimacy 
 did not extend beyond the work which they did 
 in common. 
 
 Goring was not entirely sorry. Too close a union 
 with the Irish had produced degeneracy both of 
 character and creed in all the settlements of English 
 which had been made in previous centuries. It was 
 on this rock more than any other that they had split, 
 and he was the more anxious on this point from the 
 unexpected difficulties which he found in obtaining a 
 license for his chapel. The magistrates of the county, 
 when he applied to them under the statute, gave him 
 to understand, without directly refusing, that they 
 would prefer that he should make his application to 
 the Bishop ; the Bishop referred him to the Primate ; 
 he could get no reply either positive or negative ; 
 and scornful and indignant as he might feel, his 
 position became more and more embarrassing as time 
 
loo THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 went on, for he knew that half the famihes, and those 
 the best amoni;" them, whom he had introduced 
 would leave him if deprived of their rights of 
 conscience. 
 
 There was the further embarrassment that the 
 Statute of Toleration itself applied only to the right 
 of meeting for worship. The children could only be 
 baptized, the dead could only be buried, the young 
 people married and the boys and girls taught reading 
 and writing, by a clergyman of the Establishment. 
 Some of these inconveniences he had foreseen, and 
 had intended all along, when he had leisure, either 
 .to restore a ruined church at Adrigoole, or to build 
 another at Glengariff. There being a few Protestant 
 families left in the neighbourhood of Glengariff, he 
 decided on the latter. Having ample funds at his 
 disposition, he built a small stone church at his own 
 expense. He provided an endowment for a Minister, 
 and having given so satisfactory an evidence to the 
 Bishop of his own loyalty to the Church, he supposed 
 that the objection would be withdrawn to the 
 registration of his Calvinist meeting house. He 
 found himself mistaken. The Bishop acknowledged 
 his liberality with stinted praise. He consented to 
 consecrate the church at Glengariff, on condition that 
 he might himself have the nomination of the in- 
 cumbent. But he said that since there was now a 
 Church service within fifteen miles of Dunboy, the 
 excuse for the demand for a Nonconformist place 
 of worship no longer existed. 
 
 Colonel Goring kept his temper, though with 
 difficulty. He himself, with his family, usualh' 
 attended the Church service, with a small number 
 of his people who were willing to accompan\' him. 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. loi 
 
 For the rest, he let things continue as they were on 
 his own responsibility, till he could have a personal 
 explanation with the Primate, and ascertain how far 
 a Dissenting congregation could be legally deprived of 
 the benefit of the Act. Meanwhile the neighbourhood 
 of an ordained clcrg\'man made the situation in other 
 respects more easy, and enabled him to cover under 
 the clergyman's name the irregularity of his school. 
 
 But the unrest which always prevailed in 
 the South of Ireland when there was a prospect of 
 a French landing, was growing with alarming 
 intensity. Peace was not yet avowedly broken ; but 
 the French and English were fighting in India and 
 America, and the signs of the approaching war were 
 visible on all sides. Privateers were known to be 
 fitting out at Nantes and Rochelle, expecting their 
 letters of marque. Some were said to be at their work 
 already, knowing that when war broke out their 
 doings would not be closely looked into. Vicious- 
 looking craft, of various sizes, had been seen hovering 
 about the Irish coast under P'rench colours, anywhere 
 between Cape Clear and the mouth of the Shannon. 
 The Bantry smugglers had multiplied so fast, that, 
 without larger support than the Government allowed 
 him, he found he would soon be unable to hold them 
 in check. He had some information that muskets 
 and powder had been landed in large quantities in 
 Roaring Water Bay, and while he was straining his 
 utmost to protect the coast, he was assailed by a 
 hundred petty acts of persecution, each of which, if 
 taken singly, might ha\e seemed an accident, but 
 coming close together showed that a combined 
 attempt was being made to drive him out of the 
 countr)\ He had relieved the poorer tenants of the 
 
I02 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 neighbourhood by buying in the ground leases ; he 
 provoked the resentment of the petty t}'rants of the 
 Baronies ; and claims of all sorts and kinds upon his 
 own property were started out of the ground under 
 his feet. Pretensions dating from the last century, 
 under the Articles of Limerick and Galway, leases 
 professing to have been granted by the Annesleys, 
 complications introduced by contradictory legislation 
 into Irish tenures, rights of which he had never 
 heard, and which those who had advanced them had 
 never thought of till Goring with his philanthropies 
 and his activities was found a nuisance. All these 
 were discovered, revived and brought out to annoy 
 him. A claimant was even found for his own 
 house at Dunboy, under some antiquated deed. He 
 was entangled in a lab\Tinth of law-suits, each of 
 which when it came on for hearing was found too 
 flimsy to be sustained. But a worrying and ex- 
 asperating correspondence with solicitors was no 
 small addition to his other anxieties. Again and 
 again he represented his situation to the Government 
 in Dublin. He described the alarming revival of the 
 contraband trade, the apathy if not the enmity of 
 the gentry of the country to himself, and the organised 
 persecution of which he was made the object. The 
 hostility to him was due entirely to his resolution to 
 do his duty ; and he said plainly that without assist- 
 ance, or at least without some open countenance from 
 the Castle authorities, it would be impossible for him 
 to hold his ground. 
 
 The ruling authorities alternated between panic 
 and deliberate inaction. When frightened they 
 were precipitate and violent. When the alarm 
 passed off, or before it arose, they refused to be 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 103' 
 
 moved. The contraband trade they were content 
 to let alone. As to war, it had not yet come, 
 perhaps it would not come, and there was no 
 need to be in a hurry. Colonel Goring's letters 
 received no official answer. As he persevered in 
 writing, it was intimated to him indirectly that the 
 Customs duties formed a part of the hereditary 
 revenues of the Crown. The Government in London, 
 finding Irish constitutional liberty beginning to be 
 troublesome, were contemplating the abolition of the 
 Irish Parliament, and the carrying on the adminis- 
 tration with the hereditary revenues alone. Patriotic 
 Irishmen, therefore, ought not to wish that revenue to 
 be too completely collected. 
 
 Whatever might be the cause of the apathy. Colonel 
 Goring had to be convinced that he had nothing to 
 look for from the Powers at the Castle, beyond his 
 half-dozen Coastguard men. The one hope which 
 burnt bright in him was in his expected help from 
 Lord Shelbourne, and here, too, it was not impossible 
 that he might again be disappointed. 
 
 In spite of the rude treatment of the wine basket, 
 the Earl could not be brought to disturb the last 
 years of the old Chief at Derreen. No change 
 was to be made till Macfinnan Dhu had been 
 gathered to his fathers. The Earl himself was 
 far advanced in years. His son, who was to have 
 succeeded him, and resembled his grandfather. Sir 
 William, had died suddenly. The heir to the great 
 Shelbourne estates was now his sister's son. Lord 
 Fitzmaurice, a scion of the old Geraldines, who was 
 suspected of entertaining no favourable disposition 
 towards aggressive Protestant colonies, and, like the 
 generality of the Jacobite Anglo- Irish gentry, pre- 
 
I04 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY 
 
 ferred a Papist to a Calvinistic Republican. It was 
 said that while Fitzmaurice was in command at Ross 
 Castle, the duty paid on the claret and brandy con- 
 sumed in Killarney had been \-ery inconsiderable. It 
 is a sin to wish any man out of the world, but when 
 two persons are running in to the goal, side by side, and 
 will both reach it any way, the most innocent observer 
 may have his favourite for the race without serious 
 offence. Colonel Goring would have been more than 
 mortal if he had not desired that Macfinnan should 
 be the first to go, and leave the Earl time to set his 
 plans in motion. For once fortune seemed to stand 
 his friend. After being restored to vigour by his 
 wrath, Macfinnan went back to the habits out of 
 which his illness had imperfectly frightened him. 
 After draining a pint of whiskey at a draught, in a 
 bet with a neighbouring squireen, he was carried help- 
 less to bed. In his life he had been an unwilling 
 Protestant, to qualify himself to hold the lease of 
 Tuosist. The priest, when he was in articulo mortis, 
 set his conscience straight for him. His sin had been 
 inconsiderable, for in his whole life he had never set 
 foot inside a Protestant church. His spiritual affairs 
 having been arranged, he called his son Mick to his 
 bed-side, cautioned him to stand by the old place 
 through good and evil, and drink and fight when 
 opportunity offered, as a gentleman should do, and so 
 made a good end, after the manner of his fathers. A 
 letter from the agent at Kenmare brought the news 
 to Dunboy. The Earl's instructions to him, he said, 
 had been to lose no time in entering upon pos.session. 
 He proposed to go in person to Derreen, to show 
 proper consideration for the family who were now to 
 be removed. Several g-entlemen of distinction would 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 105 
 
 accompany him, at the Earl's desire, to give im- 
 portance to his action, and he trusted that Colonel 
 Goring himself would join their party, since he was 
 likely to be so much interested in the future manage- 
 ment of the property. The agent had decided, after 
 some uncertainty, that the day of the funeral would, on 
 the whole, be the fittest for their visit. It would be a 
 sign of respect which was demanded by the custom of 
 the country, and an evidence of an intention to deal 
 generously in the change which was to be made. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The death of Macfinnan Dhu made a sensation 
 throughout Kerry. The O'Sullivans of Dun- 
 kerron, the chief branch of the old race, had 
 been long gone. Their castle was in ruins. The 
 water-spirits who had wailed in the moonlight 
 upon the shore on the death of each of its inmates, 
 had sung their last dirge when Elizabeth was 
 Queen of England, and they had been seen or heard 
 no more. Morty Oge, the next in rank of the famil}-, 
 had carried his sword into the service of the foreigner, 
 and the Lord of Derreen was the last of their chiefs 
 who had resided on the scene of their old dominion. 
 The Earl of Shelbourne's intentions were no secret, and 
 it seemed as if the curtain was about to fall over one 
 more of the ancient Irish Septs. Under any circum- 
 stances the last honours would have been paid punc- 
 tiliously to a man who had been personally popular, 
 and who had filled so conspicuous a place. The 
 revolution known to be contemplated had on this 
 occasion called out a peculiar feeling. The smaller 
 squires, the sons or brothers of some of the 
 
io6 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN ROY. 
 
 more considerable families in the country, the 
 multitudes of Sullivans, for half the peasantry bore 
 the name, and all the Catholic population of the 
 adjoining baronies on both sides of the Kenmare 
 River, decided to be present at the funeral, both out of 
 natural respect and to show the dissatisfaction and 
 jealousy with which they regarded the threatened 
 return among them of English strangers. 
 
 The nature of the Irish is a singular compound of 
 tenderness and levity. In their popular melodies 
 there is often a pathos too deep for words, 
 which can only be expressed in music ; the 
 agony is drawn out as if the long sorrow of 
 the Irish nation were all gathered into the notes 
 which thrill upon the harp-strings. Then suddenly, 
 as with a bound, the air starts off into motiveless 
 hysterical merriment, and dies away into idle laughter. 
 The same combination can be traced in the conduct 
 of their lives, and displays itself most conspicuously 
 of all when they lay their dead in the earth. Births 
 and marriages are allowed to pass comparatively un- 
 noticed. A " burying " is at once a dirge and a 
 festival — an epitome of the national character. Mac- 
 finnan Dhu was waked with the usual honours. The 
 buckeens who had been his boon companions sate the 
 night through drinking whiskey in the hall at Derreen, 
 the coffin standing on trestles in the middle of them, 
 with the candles burning round it. The blind piper 
 in a corner played the keen of the O'Sullivans, and 
 those who were not too drunk to listen professed to 
 have heard the Banshee wail outside the window. 
 
 In the morning — it was again a bright September 
 day — the grounds were early thronged with thousands 
 of people who had gathered there by land and water. 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 107 
 
 From Berehaven by the pass over the mountains, 
 from Glengariff and Bantry, from Sneem, across the 
 bay, and even from Killarney and Tralee, old and 
 young had come together for a hoHday, and for a 
 patriotic demonstration. They had brought their 
 food with them to spare the purse of the injured heir, 
 and had distributed themselves in picturesque groups 
 over the lawn and under the trees in the orchard. 
 Stern old women, with features trenched deep with 
 furrows and wrinkles, sat on their haunches on the 
 rock where the dead man had broken the Saxon's 
 wine bottles, smoking their short pipes, and mum- 
 bling over again the curses which he had thundered 
 at him. The scarlet cloaks of the younger ones shone 
 brilliantly against the dark foliage of the oak wood 
 from which the place took its name. The men lounged 
 about, some smartly dressed, with riding whips in 
 their hands, others in the best rags they had, in 
 respect of his honour's glory. Others there were who 
 seemed to have come in some vessel from abroad, and 
 not to belong to the neighbourhood, seamen tanned 
 by southern suns, officers in the undress uniform of 
 the Irish Brigade ; or dubious-looking gentlemen with 
 Spanish sombreros, slashed velvet jackets, and pistols 
 and stilettoes at their belts. High or low, native or 
 foreign, sailors, soldiers, or civilians, they had collected 
 all on the same errand, and were waiting for the 
 formation of the funeral procession. 
 
 The old church of Kilmakilloge — church of the 
 lesser St. Michael — where the younger branch of the 
 O'Sullivans had been buried since the time of the 
 Danes, stood on a grassy hill above the harbour, a 
 mile and a half distant from the house. Who the 
 lesser St. Michael was, how he differed from the Arch- 
 
lo8 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 angel, and what brought him to Ireland, local Irish 
 tradition, for once modest, does not pretend to know. 
 The harbour which bears his name is an inlet, two or 
 three miles deep, on the eastern side of the Kenmare 
 River. It is shaped something like a starfish, with 
 open water in the centre, and long arms piercing into 
 the land all round, between which are projecting 
 ridges of rock, wood, and meadow. It is surrounded 
 by high mountains. At the furthest extremity a deep 
 dark valley leads up into the hollow of Glanmore, 
 and is closed in at the back by the high crests, the 
 other sides of which overhang Bantry Ba}*. A con- 
 siderable river falls into the harbour out of the.se 
 mountains, and another and a smaller one descends 
 from the eastern range towards Glenatrasna and 
 Glengariff The peninsula of Derreen, in the midst 
 of which the O'Sullivans had their dwelling, is skirted 
 on one side by this second stream, on the other b\- a 
 long, deep, creek of salt water, and it is itself thickh- 
 covered b\- a wood of stunted oak trees, yews and 
 hollies. 
 
 Here from immemorial time, from the days when 
 Ireland was the home of the Saints, the little St. 
 Michael had been the spiritual chief and ruler, having 
 inherited his domain, perhaps, from some earlier 
 heathen Divinity, for the land all round the inlet had 
 been evidently the home of human beings in an age 
 far behind the conjectures of histor\-. Tall stone 
 pillars scattered freely along its shores, mark the 
 spots where chiefs or heroes lie buried. In the dry 
 banks formed in the Ice ages by moraines, are a great 
 number of the structures called Picts' houses, groups 
 of underground cells or chambers hollowed out of the 
 soil and joined together b)' narrow creeping holes. 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 109 
 
 What these " houses " were, or to what purpose they 
 were applied, no one now can say, and they are left 
 undisturbed to the " good people ; " but human crea- 
 tures, and a good many of them, were present at their 
 construction, and there are other signs, immediately 
 round, of a considerable population. Granite circles, 
 each like a miniature Stonehenge, stand on the hill- 
 sides — temples, monuments, burying-places, Courts 
 of Justice, in the open air, like the Doomsters' Court 
 in the Isle of Man— they may have been any one of 
 these, and the antiquarian may guess at his pleasure ; 
 but they are the footprints of prehistoric man. 
 
 St. Michael must have been in possession of his 
 Green Hill before the English Conquest, for no one 
 knows when he came into it, and if so considerable a 
 Saint had made his appearance later than the time of 
 Henry the Second, his arrival on the scene would 
 certainly have been heard of. It was a very long 
 time ago, therefore, that he erected the small wind- 
 beaten building where, for century after century, the 
 O'SuUivans of the Glen had heard mass while they 
 lived and were gathered to their fathers when they 
 died. The Reformation aboli.shed the mass, but pro- 
 vided nothing in the place of it. The windows fell in, 
 and the doors fell off, and for a hundred years no 
 sound was heard within the narrow aisle but the 
 hooting of owls, the cry of the passing curlew, and 
 the moaning of the storm. Then came Sir William 
 Petty's people, who were spiritually-minded. They 
 brought with them a Puritan minister. The\' repaired 
 the roof, whitewashed the walls, and \\Tote texts upon 
 them, turned the owls out, and made a decent meeting- 
 house. But the Bishop hunted out the minister, and 
 gave the advowson to a clergyman, who, alread)- having 
 
no THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 a benefice forty miles off at Tralee, could not be at 
 Kilmakilloge at the same time. The colony, being 
 unepiscopal in their sentiments, declined to provide a 
 curate, unless he might be one of themselves. The 
 Catholics built a chapel of their own ; the church 
 went to wreck again ; but as time and weather washed 
 away the traces of heretical profanation, the ruins and 
 the burying ground recovered their traditionary 
 sanctity. 
 
 A few hundred yards off was a pond, to which St. 
 Michael, as a sign of returning favour, gave miraculous 
 virtues. A floating island rose once a year in the 
 middle of it, and a bath in the water, while the island 
 was above the surface, made the lame to walk and the 
 blind to see. Analogous advantages attached to a 
 grave in the churchyard ; and so considerable were 
 these, that bodies would be brought from the adjoining 
 Baronies to be put away there. The natives of the 
 glen, jealous of their exclusive rights, would resist by 
 force, and desperate battles were often fought on 
 these occasions. So holy the spot was supposed to 
 be, and so severe the competition for admission to it, 
 that the space w^as fast filled. The peasant who 
 secured a grave there was allowed but a few years of 
 rest before he was dug up to make room for another. 
 The grass was littered with the fragments of coffins, 
 and skulls were piled in heaps against the chancel 
 walls. The vault of the O'Sullivans alone remained 
 sacred from disturbance, and was guarded partly by a 
 railing and partly by the respect of the population. 
 
 Hither on this September morning were to be 
 borne the remains of the chief who had just departed. 
 The coffin, with his arms in silver upon the lid, was 
 brought out and laid in a cart. The gentlemen, who 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. ni 
 
 had wound up their night watch with an ample break- 
 fast, mounted their horses in the courtyard, and talked 
 anxiously and earnestly as they rode round to take 
 their places behind it. 
 
 " So here," said the O'Donoghoe of Glenflesk, " we 
 are to see the last of the Sullivans. They have been 
 a fine famil)-, and there is a brave gathering anyway 
 of them that would be present at the end. 'Twas 
 said the agent was coming himself. May the Devil 
 have the sowl of him ! " 
 
 " A sore sight will the like of him be this day," said 
 a young McSweeney, " and unless I brought a 
 regiment of red-coats with me, I'd be careful, how 
 I showed myself among the lads, till the anger is out 
 of them. What would he be here at all for, and he 
 to drive the widow and the orphan from under the 
 roof that sheltered them ? " 
 
 " What says Mr. Sylvester to it ? " the O'Donoghoe 
 said, turning to an elderly man, whose boots and 
 leggings, spattered with mud, showed that he had 
 ridden fast and far to be in time for the ceremony. 
 " Will the boys fight, think you, Sylvester ? " 
 
 " Fight is it ? " answered the person appealed to, 
 whose acquaintance the reader has already made at 
 Nantes. " And what would they be fighting for ? 
 Sure, the Earl is master, to do as he likes, and the 
 King's Majesty, God bless him ! stands at the Earl's 
 back with the red-coats ; only they do say a " 
 
 " What do they say ? " enquired the O'Donoghoe, 
 to whom such effusive loyalty seemed too warm to be 
 entirely sincere. 
 
 Sylvester did not care to finish his sentence, but 
 another gentleman in the party finished it for him : 
 " It was rumoured in Kenmare last night," he said, 
 
112 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 " that the Earl in London was sinking, and that my 
 Lord Fitzmaurice would have a word to say before 
 this work went foi-ward." 
 
 The conversation was cut short by a long, low cry 
 which arose in front of the house, and a summons of 
 the horsemen to their ranks. 
 
 The cart was already in motion, rounding the rock 
 before the door, and two strings of women, one on 
 either side of it, were chanting the dirge for the dead, 
 their voices rising and falling like the notes of an 
 yEolian harp, now hushed and low, now rushing up 
 the scale into a scream of passionate despair. Im- 
 mediately behind the cart rode the priest and the 
 young lad who was so soon to be disinherited ; after 
 them followed the mounted gentry. In the rear, as 
 the cart advanced, the parti-coloured crowd formed 
 into a line which seemed interminable, Macfinnan 
 Dhu being far on his way to his resting-place before 
 the last of the mourners was clear of the grounds. 
 The road, after leaving the domain, followed the 
 turns of the shore, amidst heather and bare rocks. 
 From the point of a crag in the wood behind the 
 house the whole train could be seen from end to end, 
 winding its mournful way, w^hile the cries of the 
 keeners became fainter in the distance, swaying 
 fitfully on the autumn wind. A string of boats 
 accompanied the procession on the water, while 
 others were seen streaming in from the sea. A 
 large vessel of unusual rig and striking appearance 
 lay in a cove at the harbour mouth. She had a 
 French flag flying half-mast high, and a galley and a 
 long-boat full of men were observed to leave her and 
 pull in to the land under the church. 
 
 The women ceased to wail when the coffiii reached 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 113 
 
 the sacred ground. The priest put on his vestments 
 and chanted the office for the dead, the multitude 
 clustering silently under the broken tower of the 
 desolate building, among the bones, buried and un- 
 buried, of vanished generations of men. One side of 
 the iron rail which protected the vault of the Derreen 
 family had been removed. The massive flagstone had 
 been lifted off, and in the dark space below a dozen 
 coffins were seen, side by side, mouldering into dust. 
 All that remained of Macfinnan Dhu was passed 
 down among that silent company. The priest 
 pronounced his last blessing. The crowd resolved 
 itself into groups, which gathered over the church- 
 yard, each knot forming round some grassy mound, 
 and bewailing afresh the kinsman or kinswoman that 
 lay below. The gentry remounted their horses to 
 return to the house, where there was to be a final 
 feast before they departed to their homes, not, how- 
 ever, without throwing surprised and anxious glances 
 at the party who had landed from the vessel, and had 
 stood in a group by themselves during the ceremony. 
 These were a dozen seamen dressed like a crew of a 
 man-of-war, and two officers with them in the French 
 Naval uniform. The elder, and evidently the 
 superior, was a short, alert, sinewy-looking man, in 
 the full vigour of life, swarthy and sun-burnt, with 
 a foreign air and manner ; the other, several years 
 younger, was tall, light and active, with a bright Irish 
 face, curling chestnut hair, and laughing, humorous 
 mouth. If his companion was the commander of the 
 ship in the harbour, he was himself, probably, the 
 mate or lieutenant. They were known, apparently, 
 to more than one gentleman present, who lifted his 
 hat in recognition, but they seemed to avoid im- 
 
 8 
 
114 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 mediate observation. Dismissing their men, they left 
 the burying - ground alone, and were presently 
 joined by Sylvester O'SuUivan, who appeared to have 
 some important communication to make to them. 
 He had some scroll or letter in his hand, the 
 contents of which — for it was sealed — he was 
 describing to them. The spot where they were 
 talking commanded a view of the mountain pass 
 through which the road from Ken mare descended 
 into the valley. Before they had concluded their 
 conversation, a party of horsemen were seen coming 
 down over the brow, and picking their way among 
 the rents and holes which had been torn out of the 
 track by the watercourses. Sylvester touched the 
 elder officer's arm, and pointed to them with his 
 finger. The officer nodded, and gave a brief direction 
 to his companion, who sprang like a greyhound over 
 the wall by which they were standing, and bounded 
 down the grassy slope which led to the shore. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 The riders who had been seen descending the 
 mountain road into the Valley of Kilmakilloge had 
 reached the level ground at the bottom of the hill 
 before they perceived the vastness of the concourse 
 which the funeral had brought together. The agent 
 had anticipated that the assembly would be large. 
 Macfinnan Dhu's personal friends would be there, and 
 the inferior gentry of the county might, perhaps, wish 
 to show respect to his memory. Among many of these 
 the old chief had not been particularly popular. In his 
 younger days he had been a fire-eater, and had been 
 in many a quarrel which had left a feud behind it. 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 115 
 
 Belonging, as he did, to the old blood, Macfinnan had 
 held in small respect the Protestant adventurers who 
 had passed into occupation of the land. His relations 
 with most of them had been cool, and with some had 
 been unfriendly. But all scores were cleared by 
 death ; and the agent hoped that he might find a good 
 many of them present, to whom he would have an 
 opportunity of explaining publicly Lord Shelbourne's 
 intentions. Most of these persons had found their 
 account in the disordered state of society, and were 
 known to regard with suspicion and dislike the intro- 
 duction among them of organised industry. He 
 meant to take the occasion to impress upon them the 
 precariousness of their own situation. They held 
 their properties only as representatives of the Enghsh 
 conquest. They were surrounded by a population 
 who, however humble they might affect to be, re- 
 garded them as robbers and intruders, and were on 
 the watch always for an opportunity of destroying 
 them. They must be aware of the growing ferment 
 in the general mind, of the presence of French agents 
 among them encouraging the discontented masses to 
 look for help from abroad, and of the probability, as the 
 war was now breaking out, that any day there might 
 be an invasion in earnest. There was no police. The 
 military force in the country w^as limited, and could 
 not be everywhere. In the event of an insurrection 
 they would be themselves the first victims, and he 
 meant to make them see that the presence of a 
 thriving Protestant settlement at the most exposed 
 and dangerous point upon the coast might be the 
 surest safeguard to the whole of them. 
 
 Between the aristocracy of the Irish counties and 
 the smaller landholders there was not much inter- 
 
Ii6 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY 
 
 course. The members of the upper famiHes, even when 
 generally resident, were much in English society, were 
 often in London and on the Continent, were persons 
 of taste and refinement. The manners of the buckcens, 
 the middlemen, the long leaseholders, and the smaller 
 freeholders were not agreeable to them, and the two 
 classes kept very much apart. Several of these 
 gentlemen, however, who were aware of the state of 
 the country, had consented to accompany and support 
 the agent on this present occasion. He anticipated 
 that with their assistance he would be able to produce 
 a salutary effect on the assembly whom he would find 
 collected, and that many or most of them might be 
 brought to look with favour on the intended changes. 
 
 These expectations were not encouraged by the 
 aspect of the harbour and the valley. Irish na- 
 tionalism was evidently represented there in extra- 
 ordinary force. There had been no design to remove 
 Macfinnan's Dhu's household till provision could be 
 made for them elsewhere ; but formal possession was 
 to be taken of the premises, and half-a-dozen men 
 had been sent down by water from Kenmare for the 
 purpose, who were to meet the agent on his arrival. 
 It seemed doubtful whether, coming on such an errand, 
 these persons could venture to approach the house in 
 the face of such a display. 
 
 The agent's own party consisted of about twenty 
 horsemen. There was a young Herbert from 
 Killarney, a Mr. Denny from Tralee, a Blenner- 
 hassett, a son of Sir Maurice Crosbie, an Orton, and 
 Colonel Goring, who had joined them at Kenmare. 
 They wore their swords. Goring only excepted, 
 according to the custom of the time, and each had a 
 couple of servants behind him with pistols at their 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 117 
 
 holsters and muskctoons slung at their backs. 
 Colonel Goring was unattended and unarmed. His 
 life had been often threatened — more than once he 
 had been shot at, but he usually went about his 
 business in the wildest parts of the country with no 
 more defence than a walking stick. To carry pistols, 
 he said, was to be tempted to use them, and might 
 rather increase than diminish any danger that there 
 was. He was tranquilly certain that he could not be 
 killed as long as there was work for him to do, and 
 his contempt of precaution served, among so im- 
 pressible a race as the Southern Irish, as better 
 protection than a guard of police. Feared and hated 
 by many, he was still loved by some for the help and 
 comfort which he had brought to many a miserable 
 bedside, and even those who would have assassinated 
 him regarded him as a peculiar person under the 
 guardianship of the higher powers. 
 
 The agent, as the scene broke upon him, pulled up 
 his horse and looked anxious and uncertain. Dis- 
 agreeable surprise was written on the faces of the 
 rest. Goring only appeared able to enjoy the 
 brightness of the picture, the play of colours as the 
 women's dresses shone blue and crimson over bay and 
 shore, the hundred boats moving to and fro about the 
 harbour, and the stir of animated excitement in a 
 spot so silent and secluded. 
 
 " We'll find a warmer entertainment at the house 
 than we looked for. Colonel," said the agent to him, 
 after a pause of three or four minutes. " Rather 
 warmth than welcome, so far as I can see, Better, 
 perhaps, if we had waited for another day. I am not 
 sure but what we should turn back. It is never wise 
 to disturb a hornet's nest, and it is my belief that is 
 
ii8 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 what we should be doing if we went on. My lord 
 will not be pleased if he hears that there has been 
 trouble." 
 
 " Turn back ! " said Gordon. " Why, sir, they have 
 seen you coming, and all the country side will be set 
 laughing- at )'ou. If you want respect from an Irish- 
 man, the worst thing you can do is to turn \'our back 
 upon him. Here is the population of half-a-dozen 
 baronies, high and low, collected to your hand, and 
 you can speak the Earl's meaning in the ears of the 
 whole of them. He intends them no harm. He 
 intends nothing but good. Tell them there is to be 
 a new condition of things. The misery they have 
 lived in is to end. There is to be no more want, no 
 more idleness, no more oppression, and for the future 
 peace and law and order and prosperity." 
 
 *' You are a soldier. Colonel, and you think it is 
 enough to command and to be obeyed. There are plenty 
 in Ireland willing to command, but devil a one I know 
 of that is willing to obey. You have had experience 
 over there at Dunboy, but you don't understand the 
 country yet, and so you will find one of these days. 
 Law and order ! Faith, we have laws enough and 
 orders enough and small respect for one or the other, 
 except the fear is on the people, and little enough 
 fear will there be in Kilmakilloge this afternoon, with 
 the whiskey and all." 
 
 " There is one law over all," said Goring, " and 
 that is God Almighty's law. When you find out 
 what His will is, and try to do it, things will begin to 
 go well with you, and not till then, in my judgment." 
 
 " What is the use of your talking like a preacher. 
 Colonel ? " answered the agent querulously. " Sure, 
 we all know that, but the law ye spake of is mighty 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 119 
 
 hard to discover. The praste in the Chapel says it 
 is one thing, and the parson in the Church says it is 
 something else, and it is not clear to me that either 
 the one or the other know what they are talking 
 about. The Parliament is quarest of all, for they 
 make laws for the honour of God, as they call it, and 
 if the magistrate tries to put the laws in practice, it 
 will be the worse for him, as yourself knows. Colonel, 
 if ye would speak the truth." 
 
 " By Heaven," said Dick Crosbie, as his companions 
 called him, " I wish they would do one thing or the 
 other — either execute the laws or else repeal them. 
 We could sit on one chair, or sit on the other, but to sit 
 on both together is an unasy arrangement. Carry 
 out the Popery Acts ; in thirty years there will be 
 neither priest nor Papist in the land, and the Pro- 
 testants and the English can do as they will. Repeal 
 the Acts and we'll be all friends together. As it 
 stands, ye get all the ill-will for the making such 
 laws, and ye lose the good they might do you if you 
 put them in force." 
 
 " You are wrong again there," replied the agent. 
 " The Popery Acts are like the curb you have got on 
 your second bridle there. By the same token it is 
 not long ye'd remain without it on the back of that 
 mare you are riding, for a vicious beast she is, or I 
 know nothing of horseflesh. When the devil is not in 
 her you can ride her easy on the snaffle, and let the 
 curb hang till ye want it. But unless she knew it was 
 in her mouth, Dick, she would have you off with your 
 back on the ground before ye had time to ask where 
 ye were. Let the people talk as they will, they 
 understand that the Acts are in the Statute-book, and 
 can be found there when we want them. The priest 
 
I20 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUX BOY. 
 
 at Kenmare found the Abjuration Oath stick in his 
 throat, and has never been sworn ; I could send 
 him to gaol if I pleased ; so he behaves himself Half 
 the head tenants on the estate are Catholics at heart, 
 and Catholics in practice, too, for they go to mass and 
 have no fear of it. When they sign their leases I ask 
 no questions that, maybe, they would not like to 
 answer. If I chose to do it I might make them swear 
 away their souls at the quarter sessions, but I look 
 through my fingers, and they are careful how far the)' 
 go, and so we get on together without quarrelling." 
 
 " And this," said Goring scornfully, " is what you 
 call governing Ireland, hanging up your law like a 
 scarecrow in the garden till every sparrow has learnt 
 to make a jest of it. Your Popery Acts ! Well, you 
 borrowed them from France. The French Catholics 
 did not choose to keep the Hugonots among them, 
 and recalled the Edict of Nantes. As they treated 
 the Hugonots, so \'ou said to all the world that you 
 would treat the Papists. You borrowed from the 
 French the very language of your Statute, but they 
 are not afraid to stand by their law, and )'OU are 
 afraid to stand by yours. You let the people laugh 
 at it, and in teaching them to despise one law, you 
 teach them to despise all laws — God's and man's 
 alike. I cannot say how it will end ; but I can tell 
 you this, that you are training up a race with the 
 education \\'hich }'ou are giving them which will 
 astonish mankind by and b)'e." 
 
 " You may think so. Colonel," observed Mr. Herbert, 
 a polished gentlemanlike man, who represented the 
 county in the Irish Parliament, " but, as our friend says 
 you do not understand Ireland. These are not the 
 da}'s of Oliver Cromwell. We cannot ride the hisfh 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 121 
 
 Protestant horse in this century, and God forbid we 
 should. These laws, which you say the people 
 ridicule, are what enable us to live on pleasant terms 
 with them, because they feel that they owe their 
 liberties to our indulgence; and the English ministers, 
 on the other hand, secure a degree of toleration for 
 the Protestants abroad, by intimating that if they 
 draw the rein too hard on their side, they may drive 
 us to do the same on ours. If wars or rebellion come 
 we must be severe again ; there will be no help for it ; 
 and war I suppose there soon will be if it has not 
 broken out already ; but as long as peace continues, 
 gentleness is the only way. The poor Irish have 
 suffered worse at our hands than I like to think of." 
 
 All this time they had been walking their horses 
 slowly forward, the agent still doubting whether it 
 would not be wiser to postpone his visit, when, by 
 turning a corner, they came in sight of the mouth of 
 the harbour, which had hitherto been concealed, and 
 for the first time became conscious of the presence of 
 the strange vessel. They halted again, this time all 
 with a spontaneous start, for many years had passed 
 since any such craft as this had been seen or heard 
 of in the Kenmare River. A landsman's eye could 
 perceive that he had no ordinary trader before him, 
 which had just put in from stress of weather or in 
 want of necessaries. The immense spars, the tautly 
 set up rigging and the unusual character of it, the 
 many boats and the general smartness of her style, 
 implied a crew too large for a peaceful merchantman. 
 Though she was a mile distant, they thought they 
 could .see the gleaming of her polished guns. With 
 what object could a French cruiser be anchored in 
 these quiet waters ? Goring only had any key to 
 
122 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 the m)'stery. There had been no official declaration of 
 war ; but he had received recent notice that French 
 privateers had been seen outside the channel ; he 
 had been directed particularly to look out for one 
 which had come recently out of the Loire. She had 
 been seen in chase of an English transport which 
 was taking out stores and money to the fleet at the 
 mouth of the St. Lawrence. The ship had not since 
 been heard of, but was supposed to have been over- 
 taken and plundered. A corvette had gone in pursuit, 
 and had fallen in with the privateer, which, however, 
 had escaped through her extraordinary sailing powers. 
 She was described as of a novel character, with fore- 
 and-aft canvas on both masts. Her destination was 
 not known, but it was supposed she might be con- 
 nected with some intended enterprise in Ireland, and 
 a fieneral warning; had been sent to all the stations 
 round the coast to be on the watch. 
 
 Goring could hardly doubt that the vessel which 
 was lying quietly in Kilmakilloge harbour was the 
 very one which had caused so much alarm. What 
 could have induced her to venture so far up the 
 estuary, and to have anchored so publicly and so con- 
 spicuously, was a mystery, but a mystery into which 
 his office made it his duty to enquire. So unlooked- 
 for a visitor put an end to all hesitation as to proceed- 
 ing further. Irish gentlemen are never wanting in 
 courage. Lenient as they might be with the smug- 
 gling trade, they drew a sharp distinction between 
 commercial irregularities and treasonable dealings 
 with a foreign enemy. A French landing would imply 
 a fresh civil war and a fresh fight for their lives. The 
 agent calculated that among the Catholics who would 
 be attending the funeral, few, if any would be armed ; 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 123 
 
 for the law was strict in this respect, and they were 
 shy of openly breaking it. The Protestant squireens 
 would probably have their swords and pistols, and if 
 there was to be a difficulty with the crew of the priva- 
 teer, he believed that he could rely on them. At any 
 rate, he was now determined to push forward and sec 
 what it all meant. 
 
 " We are taken by surprise, gentlemen," he said. 
 " The extraordinary gathering here to-day has a 
 further purpose in it than we know, and the coming 
 in of this piratical stranger is in some way connected 
 with it. There may be danger both to you and to me, 
 but our duty is plain, and I depend on you to stand 
 by me. Look to the priming of your pistols, and we 
 will ride forward." 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 The house at Derreen stood in an open space in the 
 middle of the wood. The drive by which it was ap- 
 proached was a quarter of a mile long, and at the gate 
 where it left the road was the invariable lodge which 
 stood at the entrance of every Irish domain. It was 
 occupied by a gardener, and the condition in which it 
 was kept reflected the ordinary character of Irish 
 labourers. The windows had been long broken, and 
 were stuffed with rags. The thatch had disappeared 
 from the roofj and the heather which had been laid on 
 instead of it, was held in its place by stones and 
 clumps of turf The door was open, and there was no 
 one to be seen, everybody who could walk being at 
 the mansion. Two huge hungry pigs were in posses- 
 sion of the kitchen, and were routing about a cradle 
 in which was a deserted baby. As the agent and his 
 
124 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 party rode past, Goring sprang from his horse, drove 
 them out with his whip, and gave sixpence to a girl 
 who was going by to watch the child till the parents 
 returned. He mounted quickly again, and they went 
 on. The people coming back from the funeral were 
 streaming up the drive. The greater part of them had 
 already arrived, and were spread in all directions 
 under the trees. It was like a race day at theCurragh. 
 Boys were holding horses, or leading them round to 
 the stables behind the house. The riders in their long 
 coats and boots, with heavy hunting whips in their 
 hands, were talking eagerly in excited knots. A rough 
 tent or booth had been erected on the lawn, where the 
 crowd were supplied with unlimited whiskey. The 
 superior guests were to dine in the hall before taking 
 their departure, and claret and brandy casks stood wait- 
 ing to be broached, no drop of which had contributed 
 anything to his Majesty's hereditary revenue. But either 
 the drink had not yet taken effect, or some other cause 
 was keeping the people quiet. There was little merri- 
 ment, not even a quarrel or, so far, a broken head. An 
 uneasy sense of expectation appeared to be sitting 
 heavy on the whole assembly, as if some serious busi- 
 ness or other had still to be transacted before the fun 
 could begin. One small group, which was conversing 
 apart from the rest, drew particular attention. It con- 
 sisted of young Mick Sullivan, a gentle-looking lad, 
 whose succession was threatened with extinction, his 
 cousin Sylvester, and the two officers in French uni- 
 form who had been seen in the church}'ard, and had 
 landed from the vessel in the harbour. 
 
 The agent and his friends were received as they 
 rode up with stern silence. The agent himself was 
 acquainted more or less with most of those who were 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOV. 125 
 
 present ; but beyond the lifting of a hat or two, there 
 was little sign either of welcome or even of recognition, 
 while men like Mr. Herbert or Mr. Crosbie saw hardly 
 anyone with whom under ordinary circumstances they 
 would have exchanged the most distant salutation. 
 Their exclusiveness was now repaid by a cold, in- 
 different, and occasionally insolent, stare. The temper 
 of the crowd was displayed with less restraint. When 
 it became known who the new arrivals were, there rose 
 a sullen murmur like the moaning of the sea before 
 a storm. That any active resistance was deliberately 
 contemplated to so formidable a person as Lord 
 Shelbourne's representative was not likely if it was 
 possible ; but the Irish temper was inflammable, and 
 there was no mistaking the resentment with which 
 the supposed purpose of his coming was regarded. 
 
 The gentlemen alighted and gave their horses to 
 their servants, but yard and stables were already full. 
 No disposition was shown to take the horses in, and 
 they were left standing where they could find room. 
 After an embarrassed pause of a minute or two, young 
 Mick — on whom the duty fell of receiving visitors 
 at the house — came forward with a cold welcome. 
 The agent was excited and awkward. 
 
 " Mr. O'Sullivan," he said, " 1 am sorry to have 
 aiTived too late to pay my last respects to the memory 
 of your father. The estate has lost the oldest of its 
 tenants. It was my duty, it was my personal wish, 
 to attend when he was committed to the grave. Busi- 
 ness unfortunately detained me at Kenmare, but I am 
 in time to repeat in person the communication which 
 has been already submitted to you in writing, and 
 which will have set your mind at rest as to your future 
 comfort. The earl's intentions towards you are of the 
 
126 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 most liberal kind, and your removal from this place, 
 whenever it takes effect, will be an improvement in 
 your station and fortune — nay, will be a subject of 
 congratulation to yourself and to all who wish you 
 well. You have, I suppose, considered the paper 
 which has been submitted to you ? " 
 
 The agent spoke firmly, though his voice shook 
 a little, for the dense knot of people who had 
 crowded to hear him and the intensity in the ex- 
 pression of their faces tried his nerves. 
 
 " Indeed," answered the youth, blushing and hesi- 
 tating, " his lordship's orders have been left within, 
 but your honour knows one can lose a father onl)' 
 once in this world, and it is a loss when it comes that 
 puts other thoughts out of the mind. If ye will say 
 your will I'll be ready to hear ye." 
 
 " Speak up, man," said a voice behind him. " Don't 
 be downhearted. Speak up to his honour. Sure ye 
 are among your own kin and there is none can 
 hurt ye." 
 
 " No one," said the agent, " means less hurt either 
 to my young friend here or to any gentleman present 
 than the Earl of Shelbourne, in whose name I am here 
 this day. For forty years, as you well know, his lord- 
 ship has left the old families on the land from Tuosist 
 to Iveragh, and yourselves can say whether distress 
 for rent has been ever heard of among you for 
 all that time. Good friends we have always been 
 and good friends I hope we shall remain." 
 
 " The blessing of God be on you for that word," 
 said Mick gathering up his courage. " If the deed 
 and the word answer one to the other we'll have no 
 more to ask. It is true for you, sir, my father was 
 never distressed for the rent, for the rent, as your 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 127 
 
 honour can tell, was always paid to the day, and what 
 for now would the Earl be putting us out, as your paper 
 speaks of, from the home where we were born and our 
 posterity behind us ? " 
 
 " My good fellow," said the agent, a little pettishly, 
 " your posterity shall prosper after you, and you shall 
 prosper too, if the Earl and I can help you, and how 
 can you speak of your being put out when ye shall 
 have the best farm in County Meath in exchange for 
 the bogs and rocks of Kilmakilloge ? " 
 
 " His lordship is mighty kind, and we are greatly 
 obliged to him," answered the youth. " But the rocks 
 and bogs ye spake of are where my fathers have 
 reigned for a thousand years and more. The moun- 
 tains bear our names, our hearts are in our glens and 
 among our own kinsfolk, and we wish for no better. 
 Here we have lived. Here, if it please your honour 
 and his lordship, we would like to remain un- 
 disturbed, and if ye will just lave us alone it is all that 
 we will desire of ye." 
 
 The audience hummed approval. " Bravo Mick," 
 half a dozen voices shouted. " That is the truth, if 
 the Divil spoke it." The agent feeling that, so far, 
 he had made no progress, stepped boldly to the top 
 of the rock and addressed them all. 
 
 "Gentlemen," he said, "we all know, for we are 
 never tired of repeating it, that the Irish are the finest 
 race under the sun. That is your opinion, and it is 
 my own too, for Ireland is as much my country as it 
 is yours. We also know, or if we do not, 'twere well 
 we should, that under the sun there is no country 
 where the inhabitants live more wretchedly, or where 
 the soil is worked to poorer profit. This valley is 
 now as barren as the rest, yet it has not been always 
 
128 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 barren, as some of you may perhaps remember. Time 
 was, when copper was brought here to be smelted in 
 thousands of tons. You may see to-day the channels 
 which brought the streams to the water mills. You 
 may see the pyramids of cinders left behind by the 
 furnaces. Time was when there were a dozen boat- 
 yards at Buna, and a hundred fishing boats, made 
 and manned on the estate, brought cod and ling from 
 Scariff, and turbot and soles from Ballinskelligs. On 
 Colorus yonder stand the ruins of the fish houses, 
 where the herrings were salted and dried, and were 
 carried to all lands. There was industry, there was 
 plenty, in the days of the Earl's father ; and the Earl 
 that now is would bring the good times back again. 
 The land is his, and you are his children, whom 
 Gcd has given him. You desired to be left to 
 yourselves. He consented, and you see what has 
 come of it. 
 
 " Once more, therefore, he will put his own shoulder 
 to the wheel. He will give you back a prosperity 
 which you cannot create for yourselves. He will 
 send again trained workmen of his own, and for every 
 stranger that is brought among you, there will be 
 work and wages for half-a-dozen of yourselves. The 
 mill wheels shall run again, and the carpenter's 
 hammer shall be heard in the yards. There shall be 
 nets and lines for the fish, and your own hands shall 
 be taught to make them and to use them ; and the 
 bogs shall be drained, and oats and barley shall spring 
 where there is now but the snipe and the curlew. 
 These are his Lordship's intentions by you, and if you 
 will do your part as he will do his, there will be a new 
 world in Kerry from this day." 
 
 The crowd listened, but they listened, most of them, 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. ^ 129 
 
 with a half good-humoured contempt, the rest in 
 sulky silence. 
 
 " Is it the old times he'd bring back again ? " cried 
 a wrinkled, weather-beaten old woman, who sat croon- 
 ing on the step before the door. " I mind those times. 
 That was when the Protestant Saxons were here, the 
 Divil mend them, who believed neither in Saint nor 
 Spirit, nor the Blessed Virgin herself. We were 
 Papist dogs then, and lucky we used to think ourselves 
 if they flung us an old bone to crunch. And what was 
 the end of them ? The storm came off the moun- 
 tains, and the Divil came along with it, and carried 
 them all away, thim and their boats and their money. 
 Will ye fly in the face of God that made ye, and set 
 up the like of them again ? " 
 
 " 'Tis well seen, your honour," said a decent-looking 
 man, '' that each people in this world likes its own 
 ways, and little is the good that comes from forcing 
 them. The English, don't we know it, are mighty 
 and powerful ; they have great ships, and armies, and 
 trade, and manufactures, and such like, and fond they 
 are of what they have got, for they won't allow a taste 
 of it to the poor Irish, any way. But if that is to be 
 the order of it, we'd be better pleased if they would 
 keep to their own island, and leave us to ourselves. 
 We don't want any more Protestants down here, at all, 
 at all." 
 
 Mick had spoken no more, but someone whispered 
 a word in his ear ; he roused himself, and said : 
 
 " Your honour has not precisely told us what you 
 are now purposing to do, and, barring the respect for 
 my father, for which I thank you, we don't }'et know 
 exactly for what purpose you are here this day. But 
 I'd be sorry ye should be without the hospitality 
 
 9 
 
I30 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 of the house, and I'd ask ye to dine with us, if ye 
 mean as well as ye say ye do." 
 
 " There should be no doubt of that," answered the 
 agent, cheerfully. " We have had a long ride, and we 
 will take your offer and thank you. If ye'd order a 
 feed for our horses, they would be none the worse for 
 it, for there they stand, poor things. Good friends I 
 hope we will always be, Mr. O'Sullivan, and as to my 
 purpose this day, have no fear that I'd be disturbing 
 you. You will stay where you are, and welcome, till 
 we have a better place ready to receive you. The 
 Earl's orders were that nothing was to be done hard 
 or hasty. I must lea\'e a clerk in the house with you, 
 with a servant or two, just for form's sake — but )-ou 
 will find him pleasant company, and yourself and the 
 family will take your own time." 
 
 A blank pause followed this announcement, inter- 
 rupted only by the sobs and cries of some of the 
 women. In the midst of the general uncertainty, 
 Sylvester O'Sullivan, who had kept, hitherto, in the 
 background, now shuffled forward, with the abject 
 manner under which ever\' Irishman knows so well 
 how to conceal his real feeling. 
 
 " Your honour will not mistake the poor boy," he 
 said. " It is proud we are to see you yourself 
 and the other gentlemen that are with you ; and 
 we are grateful for your kind intentions. The 
 errand you are come upon might have been softer in 
 our ears, if it had so pleased your honour and his 
 lordship — but the Earl knows best, and when he 
 gives his commands we are to obey. Sure it is 
 distinction enough, and well we know it, for the like 
 of us to live under his lordship's rule, and a good 
 lord he has been to us these many years, the Saints 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 131 
 
 be praised ! If he is mailing now to take the domain 
 into his own hands, we have heard you tell us how all 
 is intinded for our good. We are poor, and he will 
 take pity on us. If he will be planting the guineas 
 for us among our bogs, like the potatoes, the Lord 
 bless him for that same, and it is like we will have 
 two for one. The guineas would have grown none the 
 worse, maybe, had he been consenting to leave young 
 Macfinnan in the old place— but it will have to be as 
 you please, and none here shall speak a word against 
 it, good or bad." 
 
 He drew back, as if he had no more to say — then, 
 as if recollecting something he had forgotten : 
 
 " I have a bit of paper," he said ; " it had like to 
 have escaped me, which I was to give into your 
 honour's own hand — maybe ye will cast your eye an 
 it before ye lave your final orders with us." 
 
 Notwithstanding Sylvester's affected humility, the 
 agent thought he detected something insolent in his 
 manner. The " bit of paper " he supposed to contain 
 one of the innumerable petitions which were thrust 
 upon him when he went his rounds on the estate. 
 He waited impatiently while the old man fumbled in 
 his pocket. He was not a little surprised when it 
 proved to be a letter, formally addressed to himself, 
 and sealed with a coronetted coat of arms. He broke 
 it hastily open, glanced over the few lines which it 
 contained, and looked again at the seal with combined 
 incredulity and uneasiness. 
 
 " How came you by this, Mr. Sylvester ? " he said 
 sternly. " My Lord Fitzmaurice has employed a 
 singular messenger. The date is yesterday. Do you 
 know the contents of this letter ? " 
 
 " Your honour, I was at Killarney last night, on a 
 
 9* 
 
132 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 little business of my own," Sylvester answered, " and 
 I thought I would just look round upon my lord, in 
 the Castle, to learn if he had any commands. I tould 
 him I'd maybe see your honour at Kilmakilloge 
 this day — so he just wrote what you hold in your 
 hand, and he sealed it up ; and I rode back with it 
 over the mountains to Sneem, in the early morning, 
 to be in time for the boys that were coming to the 
 funeral, to bring me across the water. 'Twas making 
 haste I was, for fear I'd be disappointing you." 
 
 " Gentlemen," said the agent to his own immediate 
 companions, and taking no notice of the malice of 
 Sylvester's last words, " Do any of you know Lord 
 Fitzmaurice's hand? You, Mr. Herbert, must be 
 familiar with it. With you. Colonel Goring, I know 
 that he has communicated more than once. Look at 
 this, and tell me whose it is ? " 
 
 " The writing is Lord Fitzmaurice's, there cannot 
 be a doubt of it," they both said, without the slightest 
 hesitation. 
 
 " Then, gentlemen," said the agent, " I will read 
 the lettei- aloud. It concerns every one present, almost 
 as niiuch as it concerns myself. 
 
 " ' The Earl of Shelbourne died in London four days 
 ago. You will leave young Macfinnan in possession 
 of Derreen till you hear further from me.' 
 
 " Those are the words which are here written. 
 How the Earl could have died four days since, in 
 England, and the news be known }^esterday at 
 Killarney, remains unexplained. I had a letter from 
 the. Earl himself yesterday morning. It was dated a 
 fortnight back, and at that time he was in good 
 health." 
 
 " There was a whispering in the town," said 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 133 
 
 Sylvester, with an air of absolute innocence, " that a 
 pigeon had come over with a note at the leg of it, and 
 that my lord was now King of Kerry ; but it was no 
 business of mine, and sure I thought his lordship 
 would have told me anything it was fit I should 
 know." 
 
 '' There can be no question that this is his lord- 
 ship's hand and seal," the agent declared. *' I can 
 myself swear to it. And this being so, our business 
 here, for the day, is ended. Macfinnan," he went on, 
 calling Mick, for the first time, by his title, and 
 shaking him by the hand, "If this news proves true, 
 I give you my hearty congratulations. My Lord 
 Fitzmaurice is a good friend to the old blood — for it 
 runs in his own veins — and if it pleases him to con- 
 tinue me in the charge of this estate, you and I will 
 have no quarrels, depend on that. I never yet, of my 
 own will, disturbed a tenant — lease or no lease — and, 
 with God's help, I never will. We will just drink 
 your health in a glass of your father's claret, and leave 
 you to your sorrow and your joy." 
 
 The good news flew over the ground from lip to 
 lip. " The ould Earl is dead — Glory be to God ! The 
 ould Earl's out, and the new Earl is in. Long life to 
 him, and long may he reign ; for it is a good begin- 
 ning that he has made with it. The last is gone of 
 the English blood, and long may it be before another 
 comes to trouble us. Fitzmaurice comes of the 
 Geraldines — God bless him ! He is the boy that will 
 keep the Protestants off the backs of us, and the 
 bailiffs and the revenue lads — bad cess to the whole 
 of them ! The Lord spare him to us, and give us 
 another like him when he is gone ! " 
 
 To the immense multitude the news that Mac- 
 
134 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 finnan was to remain gave boundless delight, and 
 even to the gentlemen who had come with the agent 
 it was a relief, though they had been prepared to 
 support him had it been necessary. English authority 
 had fallen so low in popular estimation that it could 
 not have been revived without a struggle ; and 
 conscious as they were that it would have to be done 
 eventualh^ if they were not themselves to be driven 
 out of Ireland, they drew a long breath of satisfac- 
 tion at the immediate reprieve. If the French came, 
 or if there was a rebellion, the English would be then 
 obliged to take decisive measures, and the dangers 
 and the odium would not be thrown upon them. Of 
 the smaller Protestant squires, some crowded about 
 the young chief to shake his hand. Others jested 
 and laughed with Sylvester, who, they now well 
 understood, had brought about Lord Fitzmaurice's 
 interference at so opportune a moment. The whole 
 party began then to move in general good humour 
 towards the hall-door " to drink Mick's health," as 
 the agent said, " and then break up and go home." 
 
 To Colonel Goring the defeat of his hopes was 
 naturally a severe disappointment ; but he was a man 
 who, like Horatio, had schooled himself to take 
 Fortune's buffets and rewards with equal thanks. He 
 could still do his own duty, and Providence would 
 shape the issue. Meanwhile, another object required 
 his immediate consideration. He had not forgotten 
 the mysterious vessel in the harbour or his own obliga- 
 tion to enquire into her character. The news of Lord 
 Shelbourne's death might have driven the recollection 
 of her out of the mind of the agent. Goring's direct 
 duty was to learn what she was. The two officers 
 who had been in the ring surrounding the young 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 135 
 
 O'Sullivan evidently belonged to her, and in one of 
 them he had no difficulty in recognising the person 
 whom he had met on the mountain above Glenbeg. 
 Indeed, the man so little tried to conceal his identity 
 that when he saw Colonel Goring's eye rest upon 
 him, he seemed rather amused than alarmed, and 
 replied with an ironical smile. It was to his com- 
 panion however, that the Colonel's attention was 
 directed most anxiously He was sure that he had 
 seen him somewhere, and after struggling with his 
 recollections, he satisfied himself that the officer 
 before him was no other than the Morty Sullivan 
 who had been his prisoner with Sir Edward Sheridan 
 after Culloden, who had escaped, and had made his 
 way on board the Nantes brig which was waiting on 
 the coast. O'Sullivan's name had been proclaimed, 
 and a reward offered for his capture, dead or alive. He 
 was known to have fought at Fontenoy before the 
 expedition to Scotland, and to have been afterwards 
 with the Prince at Paris. His name had been men- 
 tioned in connection with the privateer which 
 Colonel Goring had been warned to look out for. 
 In an instant the whole situation explained itself 
 Without hesitation he walked directly up to where 
 Morty was standing. 
 
 " We have met before, Mr. O'Sullivan," he said. 
 " I do not easily forget a face." 
 
 " No one asked you to forget it, Colonel Goring, 
 for that, I believe, is your name. If you have any 
 doubt, you may look again. It will not be turned 
 away from you." 
 
 The sharp challenge and the prompt reply startled 
 everyone. The move towards the house was arrested, 
 and all stopped to know what next was coming. To 
 
136 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 most of the party present Morty was personally un- 
 known, while Goring, if he was disliked, was feared 
 and respected. 
 
 " Gentleman," Goring said, " I must call for your 
 assistance in the name of the law. The person whom 
 you see before you is a proclaimed rebel, with a price 
 on his head. He was with the Pretender in Scotland, 
 was captured, and for a few hours was under my own 
 charge. The strange vessel in the harbour I believe 
 to be the privateer which I have been ordered by the 
 Government to look out for. I suppose him to be 
 her captain. If I am mistaken in his character he 
 can clear himself by producing his papers ; but that 
 he is the same Morty O'Sullivan who has been out- 
 lawed, I am ready to swear. I arrest him, and I 
 require you all, on your allegiance, to prevent his 
 escape." 
 
 Ready as they were to throw difficulties in the way 
 of the law when it merely interfered with the general 
 license, the Irish squires were careful how they 
 meddled in defence of criminals of a more serious 
 kind. As long as it was a question of a duel, or a 
 faction fight, or frauds on the revenue, or of informa- 
 tions under the Popery Acts, the Imperial authority 
 interfered as rarely as possible. But a sharp line was 
 drawn at rebellion. Those who were rash enough to 
 take arms against the Crown, or were discovered to 
 have been involved, however secretly, in any treason- 
 able correspondence, were instantly crushed. 
 
 The Pretender had few friends left in Ireland, 
 Catholic or Protestant. Several of the landlords 
 present were in the commission of the peace, and 
 although Morty might count on the support of the 
 crowd, who were always on the side of the offender, 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 137 
 
 be the offence what it would, yet there was an 
 obvious hesitation among those who had anything 
 to lose, and whose punishment, if they were wanting 
 in their duty on so gross an occasion, would be as 
 sure as it would be severe. 
 
 Morty, seeing them uncertain, sprang to the top of 
 a rise in the ground. 
 
 " Arrest me ! will you ? " he said. " Arrest me ! 
 that you may set my head on your Temple Bar, 
 beside Kilmarnock's and Balmerino's. Then I must 
 send for them who will put in bail for me ! " 
 
 With a silver whistle which hung by a cord about 
 his neck, he thrice blew a sharp, shrill call, and out 
 of the wood on all sides there rushed out bodies of 
 seamen, armed to the teeth with cutlass, dirk and 
 pistol. They were under command of a third officer, 
 seemingly French, who had the air of a gentleman. 
 Such of his men as were immediately attached to 
 him were in the plain dress of the crew of a man-o'- 
 war. The rest were ruffians of all nations, in all 
 varieties of costumes — Danes, Swedes, Spaniards, 
 Portuguese, escaped Negroes from the Plantations, 
 desperate men inured to violence, and reckless of it, 
 and ready for any service which their commander 
 might require of them. 
 
 " Go, Connell,'"' Morty said to his young companion, 
 who was still at his side. " Go, help de Chaumont to 
 hold those blood-hounds in the leash, or we shall have 
 the place turned into a shambles in a moment. 
 You see those men," he said, looking full at Goring, 
 the agent and the rest. " You see those men, what 
 they are, and how many they are. Let but one of 
 you lift a hand to touch me, and the soil you stand 
 on shall run with blood, and not one of you shall 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 leave these grounds alive. Privateer ! Yes, I am that 
 Privateer, or Sea Rover, of whom you have heard some- 
 thing and may feel more if you choose to try. I am 
 a French subject. To England I owe no allegiance. 
 England has stripped me of my house and my lands, 
 and while I live I will do what lies in my single arm 
 on land or sea to pay back my debt. I am here 
 to be present at the burial of my kinsman. I will go 
 hence as I came. I have injured none of you. I mean 
 to injure none. Meddle with me now, if you dare ! " 
 
 Seeing themselves surrounded by sixty or seventy 
 armed ruffians, and well aware that if there was any 
 fighting the peasantry would take Morty's side, the 
 gentlemen concluded that they would be held excused 
 to the authorities for declining an unequal struggle 
 and taking him at his word. Even if they had been 
 prepared for such a conflict, and willing to fight, the 
 issue could hardly have been other than fatal to them, 
 for it was by this time known to the crowd who 
 Morty was, and the whole domain was ringing with 
 his name, and with the shouts of enthusiasm which 
 it called out. Goring himself saw that it would be 
 useless to persist in the arrest. 
 
 " You have taken us by surprise. Captain Sullivan," 
 he said, " and you have our lives in your hands if 
 you please to murder us. I tell you none the less, 
 and to your face, and in the face of these villains of 
 yours, who, if any doubt remained, are evidence enough 
 of your real character, that you are a Rebel, a Pirate, 
 a murderer for all that I know — you have forfeited your 
 life to the law as a felon, and you will come to a 
 felon's end. England is slow to strike, but her arm 
 is long, and with such as you she knows how to deal. 
 I tell you distinctly and you may do what you will 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 139 
 
 with it, if I leave this place alive I will bring an Eng- 
 lish frigate upon you before a week is out." 
 
 " Whisht, man," whispered the agent, aghast at 
 Goring's words. " Are ye mad that ye spake so ? 
 Will ye have us all murdered ? Sure if it's the divil 
 himself ye will lose nothing by keeping a civil 
 tongue in your head." 
 
 Indeed it seemed as if Goring was wilfully pro- 
 voking his fate. Morty bit his lips till the blood ran. 
 Luckily, not many of his men knew English or 
 understood what had been said, but they saw that 
 their Captain had been insulted. They drew their 
 cutlasses and unslung their musketoons. At a 
 word from him, a shower of balls would have been 
 their answer to Goring's threat. But it was Morty's 
 object to avoid a quarrel with the gentry, many of 
 whom in their hearts washed him well. 
 
 " Gentlemen," he said, reining in his passion, and 
 forcing himself to speak calmly. " Colonel Goring 
 tells me that I am a pirate, and that my life is 
 forfeited. I will give him a chance to take it. For 
 what I am, and for what that vessel is which I 
 have the honour to command, I have no answer to 
 give. I will answer, if called on, to my own Sovereign, 
 King Louis of France, and to no other. But if 
 Colonel Goring desires to know what has brought 
 me back to these shores, when France and Spain 
 offered me rank in their armies, and with them I 
 could have fought in honourable service against our 
 hereditary enemy, I will tell him that, he is himself 
 the reason. My quarrel is with him. Let us end it, 
 and then if my presence on this coast is a danger to 
 the rest of you, I will go ; and you shall hear of me 
 no more. 
 
I40 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOV. 
 
 " It is not, sir," he went on, turning direct to the 
 Colonel : " It is not that you would have murdered 
 myself and my friend after Culloden. You were then 
 but one of the myrmidons of the Butcher Cum*ber- 
 land. What you did was by his orders, and I do not 
 hold the slave responsible for his master's brutalities. 
 It is not that you are the so-called owner of the land 
 of my fathers, in possession of my own Castle at 
 Dunboy, which they defended till every stone which 
 was battered down by Carew's cannon was paid for 
 by an English life. It is not that you have dis- 
 honoured your station as a soldier and a gentleman, 
 by becoming a servant of the Revenue Board, the 
 accursed instrument of England's commercial tyranny. 
 For all this you may plead law, duty, or any other 
 specious excuse, and I should leave you to be tried 
 and judged by the verdict of every honest Irishman. 
 The falcon does not stoop on sparrow-hawks, and 
 your flight would have been too low for eye of mine 
 to heed. 
 
 " But you have done to me, I say, personally to me, 
 you have done a deadly wrong, and I value my life 
 only as it may give me the means to be revenged upon 
 you. From what you call your estate at Dunboy 
 you have swept off many a poor family of my own 
 clan, who have been on the soil since the days of 
 Malachi. You have brought your Swaddlers from 
 Cornwall and your Presbyterians from the black 
 North to take the place of them. But you have done 
 worse. Like a coward as you are, you have made 
 war on weak women : my mother, who, if all had their 
 rights, would have reigned as a queen in these glens 
 and mountains, my mother, whose grey hairs alone 
 might have pleaded with you to hold your hand, 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 141 
 
 my mother, my sister left a widow with her child, you 
 drove them out both from the poor refuge which had 
 been left to them in the Castle at Dursey. My sister, 
 who was gently nurtured, has found shelter among 
 kindly but rude seamen, in a cabin where you w^ould 
 not keep your own riding horse. My mother is dead. 
 Her blood is on your hands. Colonel Goring, and I 
 call you to account for it." 
 
 Morty had not calculated without reason on the 
 effect of such a speech upon the listeners who were 
 hanging upon his lips. Colonel Goring was un- 
 popular. He had come into the country as a stranger 
 and an Englishman. The zeal with which he had 
 discharged his office had made him more enemies than 
 friends. He had held aloof from the coarse society 
 of the neighbourhood, and had been considered 
 fastidious and insolent. With his Protestant enthu- 
 siasm there was no sympathy at all, and he was 
 believed universally to have prompted the late Earl 
 of Shelbourne in his intended measures at Kilmakil- 
 loge. He was conscious at the moment that he had 
 not a single well-wisher on the ground, and that he 
 must fight his own battle. He was not disturbed. 
 He listened gravely, but with unbroken composure. 
 
 "Captain Sullivan," he replied, "your own language 
 justifies the words which I used to you. You do not 
 deny your identity. You cannot shake off your alle- 
 giance by abjuring it. You do not pretend that you are 
 not at this instant in arms against your lawful sove- 
 reign. I did not know when I removed them that the 
 ladies in Dursey Island were relatives of yours. I am 
 sorry, as a man, for what they suffered, but the connec- 
 tion, which I now hear of for the first time, shews me 
 that my decision was a ris^ht one. The castle which 
 
142 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 they occupied was the depot of the contraband trade of 
 Bantry Bay. They themseh-es abused the courtesy 
 which had been extended to them on account of their 
 station and sex. They were left without supervision, 
 and under the shelter of their protection the smugglers 
 carried on their business in security from interference. 
 It was impossible for me to allow them to remain 
 there. I offered them a comfortable home in a 
 quarter where they could not be dangerous. They 
 refused to accept it. If Mrs. O'Sullivan had been 
 contented to live quietly on the Island, she would 
 have met with every consideration from me. If her 
 death was accelerated by her removal, I say again 
 that I am sorry for it. But if she chose to connect 
 herself with practices which I was bound to repress, I 
 am not answerable. I did but my duty, and I would 
 do it again." 
 
 '' Not answerable ! " cried Morty furiously. " By 
 the living God, but you shall be answerable ! You 
 fight with women, and you are afraid to stand up to a 
 single man ! I might shoot you there where you are, 
 and who would blame me for it ? But I will take no 
 advantage. Step out upon the grass, here where we 
 stand, and meet me man to man ; you have your own 
 friends about you to see fair play — don't pretend you 
 are afraid of these fellows of mine. Each one of them 
 knows I would put a ball through him if he dared to 
 meddle. Stand out, I say ! I came back, when I had 
 never thought to see Ireland again, to call you to a 
 reckoning, and I will have it of you, or I will know 
 why. Are you a coward, man, as well as a villain, that 
 you hesitate ? " 
 
 " You and I have crossed swords once already," re- 
 plied Goring with entirely unruffled coolness, " and you 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 143 
 
 know best who turned his back on that occasion. If 
 I hesitate it is because I doubt whether, as holding 
 the King's commission, I can honourably exchange 
 shots as an equal with a proscribed outlaw. Else- 
 where the rules of Society would forbid me, but 
 Ireland is not a civilized country. She has laws and 
 customs of her own, which those who live here must 
 sometimes comply with. Whatever you may be, you 
 are a gentleman born. Captain O'Sullivan. You have 
 served, I believe, with distinction in the Austrian 
 army, and though you are disgracing yourself by your 
 present occupation, I think I may gratify you without 
 any great indecorum." 
 
 Universal as was the practice of duelling in Ireland 
 in every rank but the lowest — and there, too, the 
 change was only from sword and pistol to the black- 
 thorn — the agent felt that he must put in an appear- 
 ance of protest. That such a scene should take place 
 on Lord Shelbourne's estate, under his own eye, and 
 without objection raised, might easily cost him his 
 place. He reflected, besides, that if Colonel Goring 
 fell, he might be charged with having allowed a 
 Government official to be assassinated by pirates ; 
 while, if it went the other way, Morty's comrades 
 would probably avenge him by a general massacre. 
 
 The more he reflected, the less he liked the prospect. 
 " No, no," he said to Goring. " You shall not. It 
 must not be." 
 
 No one could be more conscious than Goring that to 
 fight a duel under such circumstances was altogether 
 unbecoming to a person in his position. Independently 
 of the religious objections which he could not forget, 
 his office, his rank in the Service, the stand which he 
 had made and was making against the relaxed habits 
 
144 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 of Irish Society, alike forbade him to risk his life in 
 open conflict with a pirate and a rebel. But in 
 Goring, too, original sin was not wholly eliminated, 
 and Nature will have her way on some occasions, even 
 with the wisest. Morty Sullivan had insulted him 
 beyond bearing. He felt, besides, that if he was 
 thought to have flinched when thus openly challenged, 
 his influence in the South of Ireland would be gone 
 for ever. 
 
 Misinterpreting the composure of Colonel Goring's 
 manner, and supposing that he was yielding to the 
 agent's interference, Morty tore oft^ his glove. " Let 
 me quicken your resolution," he said, and he flung it 
 in his antagonist's face. 
 
 Goring caught the glove in his left hand, and tossed 
 it gently back. 
 
 " It shall be as you please. Captain O'Sullivan," he 
 said, " and no time can be better than the present. 
 Macfinnan will lend us his father's pistols. They 
 have done duty on similar occasions, and may serve 
 for this. Gentlemen," he said to Herbert and Crosbie, 
 " you will kindly act for me on this occasion. See the 
 pistols loaded and the ground measured." 
 
 Never had there been such wild delight in the 
 domain at Derreen, as was expressed by the crowd 
 now assembled there, at the news that there was to 
 be a duel. What bull-fighting is in Spain, what 
 prize-fighting has been in England, that duelling was 
 in the last century in the sister Island. It was the 
 passion and delight of all orders, high and low. Men 
 fought for something or for nothing, for honour, for 
 revenge, or for the mere enjoyment of the sensation. 
 They met, not in glens or woods, or solitary glades, 
 but in the most public places which they could find, 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 145 
 
 under the world's eye, where every one who pleased 
 might attend. On the present occasion the flavour 
 was the more exciting because the fight was to be on 
 the old-established lines of quarrel between England 
 and Ireland. Goring was the representative of the 
 Conquest and of English authority. Morty Sullivan 
 was a Southern Celt of purest breed, the lawful 
 heir of Dunboy, if right was done him, in the eyes of 
 almost all of the spectators of the scene. 
 
 The agent's alarm that if their captain fell the 
 privateer's crew might become ungovernable was not 
 unfelt by Morty himself. He had no expectation 
 that the duel could have any such result. He could 
 split a bullet on a pen-knife with his left hand, or 
 snuff a candle at twenty paces without extinguishing 
 it. He intended to kill Goring, and was perfectly 
 confident that he was going to do it. But his honour 
 required that the meeting should not be misrepresented 
 to the world. He would not have it said that he had 
 shot his enemy in the midst of a circle of his own 
 followers. And though it was so unlikely as to be 
 hardly worth considering that any accident could 
 happen to himself, he thought it but fair and prudent 
 that they should be removed out of reach of tempta- 
 tion, in case he should himself fall. *' De Chaumont," 
 he said, calling the young French officer who had 
 brought them up through the w^ood, '' march your men 
 down to the boats and keep them there till I join 
 you. Connell will stay with me. Gentlemen," he 
 went on, addressing two of the visitors who, as 
 experienced in such things, had volunteered to be his 
 seconds, " I am in your hands. Twelve paces, or six 
 — across a handkerchief if you prefer it ? Arrange as 
 you will, only be quick. We are wasting time." 
 
 10 
 
146 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 The preliminaries were soon adjusted. Twelve 
 paces was the usual distance, and twelve paces was at 
 once agreed on. Goring's seconds proposed that the 
 principals should fire together at the signal. Morty's 
 seconds preferred that they should fire consecutively, 
 and toss for the first shot. Goring, to whom the 
 question was referred, told them to settle it as they 
 pleased, and it was arranged as Morty's friends 
 desired. The ground chosen was a level strip of lawn 
 under some tall elm trees in front of the windows of 
 the house. The sun, for it was late in the afternoon, 
 had set behind the wood. The air was still, the light 
 shaded and even. The spectators fell back on either 
 side and stood in two rows, leaving a space clear 
 between them, open at either end. 
 
 There was no lingering over unessential formalities, 
 for everyone was anxious to have the business over. 
 The combatants took their places and their seconds 
 brought them their pistols. In an Irish house the 
 duelling-pistols were always in order, as the honour of 
 the family depended on them. Macfinnan had cared 
 for his as if they were his choicest jewels, and new flints 
 had been fitted on the instant it was known that they 
 would be in demand. Morty Sullivan snatched his 
 with passionate eagerness. Goring seemed as little 
 di'sturbed as if he were at a shooting match. He took 
 no notice of his antagonist, but examined his weapon 
 with much deliberation. He felt the spring of the 
 lock, glanced at the rifling of the barrel, and then, 
 having apparently satisfied himself, waited for the 
 result of the toss. 
 
 It fell to Morty. He was to fire first and at his 
 own time after the handkerchief was dropped. The 
 .signal was given. He paused a second or two raised 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 147 
 
 his pistol, took deliberate aim, and then let fall his 
 arm again, and scanned his enemy's body as if con- 
 sidering where he could hit him with most certainty 
 of fatal effect. Then he raised it again with a vicious 
 smile on his lips. His eye fixed ; his arm stiffened 
 and became rigid as the stock of a crossbow. He 
 drew the trigger, the hammer fell and the pistol 
 missed fire. 
 
 Angrily he cocked it again, again pulled, this time 
 without waiting, and again there was no result. 
 
 " There is something the matter with your flint, 
 sir," said Goring coolly. " You had better let it be 
 looked to." 
 
 With an angry flush on his cheek Morty flung his 
 weapon to his nearest second, who readjusted the 
 flint and returned it to him. 
 
 He fired instantly, but Goring's calmness had dis- 
 turbed his nerve. His arm shook. The ball, which 
 was intended for his antagonist's brain, passed through 
 his hat, cutting away a hair or two on the way, and 
 left him untouched. 
 
 It was now Goring's turn. With the same com- 
 posure as before he again examined his pistol, as if to 
 assure himself that he could depend upon it. He 
 then, for the first time since they had taken their 
 places, looked steadily into Morty's face. 
 
 " Captain O'Sullivan," he said, " you required the 
 satisfaction of shooting at me, and you have had it. 
 It is not your fault that you missed me, for you were 
 deliberate enough. I might now save the hangman 
 trouble. But your life is forfeited ; it belongs to your 
 country, and to your country I shall leave you. Fire 
 at you in return, I shall not ; but that you may know 
 and that all here may know that your life is mine at 
 
 10* 
 
148 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 this moment if I please to take it, do you see yonder 
 bough at the top of the furthest elm, with a single 
 yellow leaf at its extremity ? Mark that leaf." 
 
 He, in turn, raised his arm and glanced swiftly 
 along the barrel ; a flash, a shot, and the leaf, cut off 
 at the stem by the ball, slowly fluttered to the ground. 
 
 " Give us other pistols. Load again," cried Morty 
 furiously : but even the Irish crowd who would have 
 been well pleased to see Goring fall, could not refuse 
 their admiration for his courage, his forbearance and 
 his skill ; there was a cry that enough had been 
 done ; the seconds on both sides interposed ; they 
 declared the affair was over and could go no further. 
 
 CHAPTER XH. 
 
 The story must recede for a few months to explain how 
 Morty Sullivan came to be present with the Dotitelle 
 at Kilmakilloge on the occasion of his kinsman's 
 funeral. The story which he had heard at Nantes 
 from Sylvester had overcome his reluctance to accept 
 Mr. Blake's proposal. He was indignant at the 
 threat of the expulsion of the Sullivans, at the out- 
 rage which had been inflicted on his own family, and 
 especially at the English intruder who was the 
 occasion of it all, who once already had crossed his path, 
 and was in possession of his own castle. He agreed 
 to take the vessel which he was offered, and to do all 
 the injury with her which he could to the ancient 
 enemy. In the course of it he would make an 
 opportunity of revenging his own wrongs upon his 
 personal foe on the coast of Ireland. One stipulation 
 only he insisted on. He would not allow his name to 
 be stained with the reproach of being a pirate. He 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 149 
 
 required a commission as a privateer from the French 
 Government, and the authorities, though willing that 
 he should have it, made delays till their own prepara- 
 tions for war were further advanced. Morty employed 
 the interval in making expeditions in other vessels to 
 various parts of the three southern Irish provinces to 
 see into the progress of disaffection there, ascertain how 
 far the people could be trusted to rise if French 
 troops were landed to help them, and to introduce arms 
 where they were likely to be useful. He travelled, 
 disguised, through Cork and Tipperary, Limerick and 
 Galway, and his impressions were not encouraging. 
 There was talk in abundance, but small promise of 
 real performance. Every requisite for a successful in- 
 insurrection was wanting, except hatred of the old 
 oppressors. 
 
 On the other hand he found in the smuggling trade 
 a ready-made organization to keep the counties 
 along the coast unquiet, and to prevent England from 
 establishing any orderly rule in them. From Dingle 
 to Crookhaven the native population were always 
 ready for any desperate enterprise. On the Kenmare 
 River he found a spirit which needed but slight help 
 and encouragement if not to drive his enemy from 
 Dunboy, at least to make impossible the realiza- 
 tion of the scheme of Lord Shelbourne, should it ever 
 be in earnest attempted. In this way Morty Sullivan 
 had spent the winter and spring which succeeded our 
 first introduction to him. In the early summer came 
 the news that two French frigates had been taken by 
 the English off the mouth of the St. Lawrence. 
 Even so war was not instantly declared, but there was 
 no longer any reason for preventing French subj^^rts 
 from retaliating. The Privateers were allowed to go 
 
I50 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 out and revenge themselves on English commerce. 
 Morty Sullivan among them received the commission 
 which he had asked for. It would not save him 
 should he be captured by an enemy's cruiser, for he 
 was an English subject, who would be found in arms 
 against his Sovereign. But he could send his prizes 
 into French ports, he would not suffer as a gentleman 
 in his own estimation of himself, and he was willing 
 to run the risk of the rest. 
 
 As the summer was coming to an end, Blake sent 
 him out of the River with a crew, part reputable sea- 
 men, part birds of prey of the ocean, trained in 
 plunder and bloodshed. The Doiitelles sailing powers 
 were all that her owner had promised. No privateer 
 ever sailed from Nantes with so powerful an arma- 
 ment. She carried nine guns on a side. To match 
 the peculiarity of her rig, Morty had provided her 
 with a long twelve-pounder, with exceptional range, 
 which he had designed himself and which Blake had 
 cast for him. 
 
 In the first few days that he was out in the 
 mouth of the Channel he had sent half a dozen 
 prizes into Brest. The report that he had plundered 
 a ship that was carrying specie to America, was only 
 short of the truth. He had not only taken the 
 money, but he had sunk the vessel, putting her crew 
 on board a passing brig. After fluttering the dove- 
 cotes to such purpose, and having been twice chased 
 in vain by a frigate and a corvette, he had borne 
 away for the South of Ireland. His business there 
 was short, but important. He had a thousand 
 muskets, cases of pistols, and thirty barrels of gun- 
 powder which he intended to land in Kilmakilloge to 
 arm the peasantry of the district, who had been 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 151 
 
 already drilled to be able to use them. This accom- 
 plished he was then going off to the West Indies for 
 a campaign among the English sugar Islands. 
 
 It was by mere accident that his arrival was coinci- 
 dent with his kinsman's death. He had anchored the 
 night before the funeral. He had intended to lie 
 quietly there for a day or two, and dispose of his 
 cargo. Circumstances had given his appearance a 
 new character, and might oblige him to make new 
 
 arrangements. 
 
 The scene which had taken place at Derreen was 
 so little an exception to the common incidents of 
 Irish life, that it would have passed as an ordinary 
 occurrence, but for Morty Sullivan's appearance in the 
 Doutelle, and the audacious language in which he had 
 boasted of his position and his character. The 
 authorities in Dublin Castle desired to hear as little 
 as they could help of local irregularities in the remote 
 counties of Ireland, nor would there have been reason 
 to fear that in the present case they would shew 
 more curiosity had it not been for the critical relations 
 at the moment between the Courts of St. James's and 
 Versailles. 
 
 The presence on the coast, however, of an avowed 
 pirate and outlaw might attract inconvenient attention, 
 unless it could be in some degree extenuated. The 
 agent might find himself in trouble if he could not an- 
 ticipate the accounts of others. He therefore hastened 
 back to Kenmare to prepare and send off a report on 
 the instant. He could feel easy that Goring, being of 
 a free and noble nature, would not colour the matter 
 favourably for himself He could give his own 
 version with the more confidence, as he could be 
 assured that what he would say would be what the 
 
152 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 Castle would most wish to hear. " An incident," he said, 
 " had occurred at a place on Lord Shelbourne's estate 
 of no serious consequence, but which he thought he 
 ought to mention. A gentleman of ancient family, a 
 tenant on the property, had died, and the funeral had 
 been largely attended. A vessel under French 
 colours had put into the harbour for the occasion. 
 The commander was a relative of the deceased, and 
 his object in coming in had been merely to pay 
 respect to his kinsman. Colonel Goring, of Dun- 
 boy, happened to be present, and it appeared that 
 the Captain of the vessel and Colonel Goring had 
 met previously under unpleasant circumstances- 
 They recognised each other on the grounds. They 
 quarrelled, and in spite of his own efforts to keep 
 the peace, they had exchanged shots in a duel. But 
 no harm had come of it. The French vessel had no 
 other business on the coast, and had departed already 
 or would depart immediately. He had thought of 
 detaining her, and of arresting the officers, but he had 
 an insufficient force with him, and an attempt at 
 capture would have been probably ineffectual, and 
 would have led to serious bloodshed." 
 
 So wrote Lord Shelbourne's agent, according to the 
 ashion of the time. 
 
 Morty Sullivan was equally impatient to be gone. 
 He was savage with the accident which had robbed 
 him of his revenge ; savage with himself for having 
 lost his nerve and having failed to repair it ; savage 
 above all with the man who had crossed his path so 
 often, and always to get the better of him, and had 
 now insulted him with his contempt. His oppor- 
 tunity might come again, but it was gone for the 
 moment. He was certain that if Gorini^: was not 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 153 
 
 stopped on his way home to Dunboy, a courier 
 would be on the way in a few hours to the 
 Admiral at Cork, and that in a day or two a 
 frigate of King George's would be looking for him. 
 He had the cargo of arms to put on shore, but an 
 attempt to land them at Kilmakilloge in the midst of 
 so much excitement and such a concourse of people, 
 would be a public act of defiance, and might provoke 
 and even cause a military occupation of the district. 
 He decided therefore to land the chests two nights 
 later at a spot at Glengariff, familiar to the local 
 smugglers, to leave de Chaumont on shore to arrange 
 for the reception and distribution of them, and himself 
 meanwhile to stand off to the open sea as if finally 
 taking his departure from the coast. 
 
 The festivities at Derreen were thus over at an 
 early hour. The chief guests having taken their leave, 
 the rest broke up before nightfall and went to their 
 various homes, the wild cries from the scattered or 
 scattering parties echoing among the glens in the 
 twilight. 
 
 Leaving the others to go their way, the reader's 
 attention will be expressly fixed on Colonel Goring. 
 
 The friends with whom he had ridden down had 
 left him. He had to make his way to Dun- 
 boy alone, and he felt that he could not be too 
 quick about it. Of his encounter with Morty, so 
 far as he had been himself in peril, he thought no 
 more than if his horse had fallen, or if he had met 
 with any other accident from which no ill had 
 followed. But of the Doutelle and of Morty's 
 presence on the coast he thought much and long. 
 He must send instant notice to headquarters, and he 
 must prepare his own station for a possible attack. 
 
154 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 His disappointment about the Kilmakilloge colony was, 
 of course, deep ; but it was irreparable, and, therefore, 
 not to be thought of any longer. The failure was 
 not due to any negligence on his part. He had done 
 his best, and if he was to find no help, very well, he 
 must do without it, and trust to himself and to his 
 Master. At all events, the Government could no longer 
 neglect so dangerous a visitor as Morty Sullivan. 
 
 There were two roads from Tuosist to Dunbo\', 
 one a horse track, long and circuitous, by Ardgroom 
 and Eyris, the other a foot track up the hollow of 
 Glanmore, and thence direct over the mountains. 
 This was the nearest way by several miles ; but the 
 whole country side had been set in motion by the 
 funeral ; many hundreds of people who had come 
 from the side of Bantry Bay would be going home by 
 this route ; the O'Sullivans, who would be the largest 
 part, bore Goring no good-will at any time, and 
 would be in worse temper with him than ever after 
 his treatmeant of their chief. Brave as he was, 
 he did not care to expose himself unnecessarily. 
 He decided that he would take the longest road, 
 where he would least be looked for, but that he would 
 leave his horse with a farmer whom he could depend 
 upon, and would trust to his feet. He would thus be 
 less liable to observation, and if attacked he could 
 take to the mountains.- 
 
 The day closed before he had disposed of his 
 steed and had finished a hasty dinner on rye bread 
 with a slice of salmon from the river. The evening 
 was still warm and starlight. The moon would rise 
 at midnight, but he hoped to have reached his home 
 by that time, and so not to need it. He set out 
 briskly. The road for the first two miles led along 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 155 
 
 the shore of the harbour. As he passed the mouth, 
 he saw the white sails of the Dotttelle as she 
 drifted down the river with the tide. The boats had 
 vanished, only far off could be heard the faint splash 
 of oars, or voices calling across the water. When he 
 had walked sharply for half-an-hour, the road struck 
 inland, on a spur of the great mountain range which 
 divides Glanmore from Ardgroom. In the entire 
 solitude, and in the absence of any sign of other 
 travellers besides himself being abroad, his pace 
 gradually slackened, and his thoughts wandered 
 through the incidents of the afternoon to the 
 condition of a country where such incidents were 
 possible. Here had been an assembly of gentlemen 
 of the county, the representatives of English 
 authority, collected together. An outlawed rebel 
 had appeared in the middle of them, and instead 
 of any attempt being made to arrest the man, he 
 had himself been compelled, by popular sentiment, 
 under penalty of forfeiting the esteem of his neigh- 
 bours, to stand out and let the fellow shoot at him. 
 So absurd it was that he laughed aloud at the 
 thought of it. Even when he examined his own 
 part in the transaction, he could not blame himself 
 for having encountered the risk of being killed, or 
 see how he could have acted otherwise. What sort of 
 a country could it be where wrong was right, and evil 
 good, and unreason reason ? What extraordinary 
 destiny condemned to failure every effort that was 
 made to improve it ? 
 
 The sun never shone upon a land more beautiful than 
 Ireland as Nature made it. It had possibilities of un- 
 bounded fertility if human industry and human sense 
 would do as much for it as had been done for the most 
 
156 THE TWO ClflEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 neglected corner in any other country in Europe. 
 The people were passionate and emotional, capable of 
 devotion and self-sacrifice, loyal and affectionate to 
 anyone who would lead them and care for them. But 
 the soil was a desert, and some subtle poison had 
 corrupted the character of the race. The Island was 
 like a sleeping volcano, out of which at times, as if 
 to give notice of what lay below, would spurt out 
 crimes beyond the ordinary possibilities of wicked- 
 ness. Holy men had lived and died among them — 
 had been respected and honoured, and shrines and 
 churches had risen above the spots where they were 
 laid to rest. But the churches were roofless, and the 
 shrines were desecrated. The bells were silent which 
 had once pealed over lake and valley, calling the 
 peasantry to prayer. The abbeys, lonely in their 
 desolation, pleaded to men and angels against the 
 hand which had profaned them. English rule had 
 done it all, so said the priests. But it was not so, for 
 their own annals, written by themselves, before the 
 strangers had come among them, told of reiving and 
 bloodshedding as their only occupation and their 
 only glory. Those sacred buildings might speak for 
 their piety, but it was not the piety of a religion of 
 peace. The annalists were monks themselves, and 
 the religious houses had been but harbours of refuge 
 in a storm which had never ceased to rage. 
 
 What did it all mean ? Why, after six hundred 
 years of Saxon rule, did the Irish race remain essen- 
 tially unchanged ? If England was not guilty of 
 their disorders, she had not found the spell which 
 would cure them. 
 
 Beside the road as Goring walked rose the 
 monuments of a time of which the legends even 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOW 157 
 
 of the Tuatha de Danans, had not preserved so much 
 as an oiitUne. Huge upright stones marked the spots 
 where Celtic chief, or Druid, or Danish pirates lay 
 sleeping, but no one could say which it was. Some 
 hand or other had piled the mounds where, if }'ou 
 tunnelled, you found caves littered with bones, gnawed 
 by creatures which had borne, at least, a human form, 
 but who were they, and whence had they come ? 
 
 Apostles had come and preached Christianity 
 among these beings. They were said to have 
 transformed them for a time into a nobler type. 
 Ireland, it was alleged, had become an Island of 
 Saints. She had sent missionaries over Europe, and 
 when the Pagans overran the Roman world and 
 buried it in Heathendom again, the Gospel light had 
 burnt clear and white in this wild. Western land. So 
 the priests pretended ; and yet the annals told the 
 same story. Neither then, nor at any time, had the 
 Irish chiefs and their followers been other than 
 wolves, devouring one another when no sheep were 
 left for them to devour. Their very saints, their 
 Patrick, their Bridget, their Columba, loomed through 
 the fog of tradition as shadowy as the giants of 
 Ossian. You could make nothing of them. Their 
 so-called lives were as full of wonders as the tales of 
 the Knights Errant. The Irish had disowned the 
 facts of life, and the facts of life had proved the 
 strongest. " Unstable as water," they had never been 
 able to build together any solid and stable existence. 
 
 The English came. The English were growing 
 into a powerful nation, and the Irish anarchy was not 
 to be tolerated so close to their own shores. They 
 consulted the Pope. The Pope gave them leave to 
 interfere, and the Pope had the best of the bargain. 
 
ISS THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 For the English brought him in, and the Irish took 
 him to their hearts and kept him there. But the rest 
 of their work was as a sand-heap for the wind to scatter. 
 They conquered the land. They gave it to Norman 
 nobles to rule, and the Norman nobles ruled in the 
 manner that was easiest to them. Instead of intro- 
 ducing English laws and English habits they adopted 
 Irish laws and Irish habits, and became fresh thorns 
 in England's side. It was open to her then to have 
 used her power to compel submission, as the Planta- 
 eenet Princes had done in Wales, or else to abandon 
 an enterprise altogether in which she could succeed 
 only by means which she did not care to employ. 
 She did neither. To abandon Ireland would be dis- 
 creditable, to rule it as a province would be contrary 
 to English traditions. 
 
 After spasmodic efforts, never sustained and there- 
 fore never effectual, she tried to rule by dividing. She 
 set bear and bandog to tear each other. She tried at- 
 tainders and confiscations. She had brought in the 
 Pope for her own purposes. When she and the Pope 
 quarrelled she tried to turn him out, and she set up an 
 Act of Parliament Church of her own. But the Pope 
 remained in spite of her, and the Act of Parliament 
 Church made no converts. 
 
 She discovered at last that if Ireland v/as ever to be 
 heartily united to her it could only be when a fresh 
 population was introduced into it of the same race 
 and the same religion as her own. The new policy was 
 carried out. PLlizabeth first and then James and then 
 Cromwell replanted the Island, introducing English, 
 Scots, Hugonots, Flemings, Dutch, tens of thousands 
 of families of vigorous and earnest Protestants, who 
 brou^jht their industries alon^r with them. Twice the 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUX BOY. 159 
 
 Irish had tried desperately and furiously to destroy 
 or drive out this new element, which, if allo^\■ed to 
 remain and thrive must assert its native superiority 
 and compel them to change their ways. They failed. 
 When the last rebellion was crushed, Ireland was 
 a sheet of paper on which England might have 
 written what character she pleased. Like a wanton 
 child with a toy, she had no sooner accomplished her 
 long task than she set herself to work to spoil it 
 again. She destroyed the industries of her colonists 
 by her trade laws. She set the Bishops to rob them 
 of their religion. Indignant and disgusted, the 
 fighting Protestants, those who had conquered the 
 country for her, withdrew in disgust beyond the 
 Atlantic. The Anglican gentry and the Anglican 
 Established Church were left to rule as they could 
 without them, with the help of a penal law ^\■hich 
 they dared not execute for shame. The Established 
 Church was a cynical farce. The Irish of the old breed, 
 who had been thrown to the ground, were recovering 
 again like Antaeus. Popery was again upon its feet, 
 and the people were gathering about the feet of it. 
 Goring himself could not blame them, for they could 
 not see their children grow up Atheists, while the 
 gentry, following accurately in the steps of the 
 Normans, were becoming the world's bye-word by 
 the recklessness of their lives. The purpose for which 
 they had been introduced into Ireland was unfulfilled. 
 They were but alien intruders, who did nothing, who 
 were allowed to do nothing. The time would come 
 when an exasperated population would demand that the 
 land should be given back to them, and England would 
 then, perhaps, throw the gentry to the wolves, in the 
 hope of a momentary peace. But her own turn would 
 
[6o THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 follow. She would be face to face with the old 
 problem, either to make a new conquest or to retire 
 with disgrace. She had wilfully neglected every duty 
 which a ruling nation owes to subjects whom, for its 
 own purposes, it has robbed of independence. The 
 proudest power cannot for ever defy nature with 
 impunity, and Goring found himself repeating the 
 reflections which the sight of the devastated plains 
 had forced upon Edmund Spenser. It could not be 
 but that, one da}', a great humiliation would befall 
 England for the heedless indifference with which she 
 had treated that unhappy country. 
 
 Colonel Goring's reflections may have been coloured 
 by his own treatment, but the constitution of his 
 mind never allowed him to despond. He looked on 
 the world as a temporary arena where men were sent 
 to be disciplined by difflculties. Whether they were to 
 succeed in overcoming them was a secondary question, 
 the answer to which did not rest with themselves. 
 They were to discover what their duty was with the 
 lights which had been given them, and then try to do 
 it. A higher Power would see to the result. He, 
 himself, would struggle on at Dunboy, assisted or 
 unassisted, as long as he could hold his ground, and 
 his immediate business would be to despatch a courier 
 at daybreak, to Cork, with an account of the Doutelle 
 and her commander. 
 
 Thus meditating, he had ascended a steep slope on 
 the side of the mountain, and had come out upon a 
 stretch of level ground, through the centre of which the 
 road ran for a quarter of a mile and then descended into 
 the valley beyond. On his left rose a precipitous wall 
 of rocks which, in the gathering darkness, for clouds 
 had spread on the sky, seem.ed as if they would defy 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. i6i 
 
 the skilfullest climber to scale. On the right was a wide 
 and treacherous peat-moss, which, even in daylight, it 
 was unsafe to cross. In the distance was the pale 
 glimmer of the sea, where the stars were still shining, 
 and directly in the middle of the open space before 
 him, showing black against the background of water 
 and sky, were three massive stones, one upright, one 
 leaning against it, and a third lying on the ground. 
 They marked the spot where tradition said some old 
 King of Kerry had fought his last battle, won his last 
 victory, and had there been laid in the grave. Few 
 persons cared to pass that way after nightfall ; for in 
 those days elf and fairy had not yet taken their leave, 
 and the waywardest of these tricksey spirits held 
 midnight revels at the warrior's tomb. Goring, who, 
 though he did not disbelieve in such apparitions, was 
 constitutionally careless of such things, let his medita- 
 tions run on upon the line which they had been 
 following, and had paused to contemplate a monu- 
 ment which so intimately fitted in with them, when he 
 saw distinctly some dark object move behind the 
 headstone. 
 
 He thought at first that he had disturbed a sheep 
 from its night's lodging. Looking more attentivel}', 
 he perceived it was a human figure in a woman's 
 cloak, which was crouching on the ground. 
 
 Cool as he was he could not resist an involuntary 
 start. The loneliness of the spot, the wild tales that 
 had been told about it, the extreme improbability 
 that any mortal woman, young or old, could be sitting 
 there at such an hour, shook his nerves, as they might 
 have shaken any man's. 
 
 As the figure rose to its feet, however, he saw 
 plainly that it had the semblance of a woman, and a 
 
 II 
 
i62 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 woman of flesh and blood, dressed in the grey cloak 
 of the country, and with the hood drawn over its 
 head. In the faint light he made out a face and eyes, 
 but whether the apparition was old or young, or a 
 tangible reality at all, he could not satisfy himself 
 He was about to question her, when, putting her 
 fingers to her lips, she said in a low voice, which he 
 thought he had heard before : 
 
 " For the Lord's sake, Colonel, go no further down 
 the road this night ; ye were watched from Tuosist ! 
 There is a party of the SulHvans got the start of \'c 
 in a boat, and they lie waiting for ye at the foot of 
 the hill ! They swear they will have your life for 
 what ye done and said to Morty Oge this day ! 
 They are beyont, at the turn of the hill. Speak low, 
 or they'll hear ye ! " 
 
 " And who may you be, my good woman ? " said 
 Goring, " that you are here in this solitary place and 
 at such a time ? " 
 
 " It is Mary Moriarty, from Glenbeg, that I am, 
 your honour. Your honour will mind my father that 
 had the hunger fever upon him last year, and was 
 like to die, and your honour gave us help that day 
 and bought the lase of the land, and saved the both 
 of us, the Lord reward ye for it ! I was at Derreen 
 at the burying, and there \\'as a dance after at the 
 shebeen house at the river side, and I heard the boys 
 talking about your honour, and how ye would never 
 see Dunboy again. Sorra be to me if I could hear 
 that harm was purposed to a gentleman that had 
 saved my father's life for him, and I not give him 
 notice of it any way ! I knew the roatl }^e would be 
 going, so I watched the bo}\s into the boat and I ran 
 by the short way that is over the hill ! " 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 163 
 
 " You are a good, brave girl ! " said the Colonel. 
 " What I did for old Moriarty was no more than one 
 Christian owes to another, and he had been hardly- 
 dealt with. But this is no place for a young maiden 
 to be abroad in at this hour, when such wild lads are 
 about as those you tell me of There is more danger 
 to you than to me ! " 
 
 " Never heed me, your honour. Look to yourself, 
 or they will be on ye, maybe, before \'e know. They 
 would never hurt a girl, bad as they are, unless belike 
 they found I had been spaking with your honour." 
 
 Goring, as usual, had no arms but a walking 
 stick. " Below the hill ? " he said, " how many of 
 them are there ? " 
 
 " There are ten or twelve at the lowest," she said, 
 " let alone those that may have joined them on the 
 way ! I saw them from the bridge, as they went 
 down to their boat. They have guns with them, 
 worse luck ! I'd bid ye take the mountain if you 
 could reach it. There is a sheep track up the crag, 
 but ye could hardly find it in the daylight, let alone 
 in the dark night ! " 
 
 " I must go back, then," he said, "and take .the 
 other path through Glanmore. I have travelled that 
 way often enough." 
 
 " Ye can't travel by Glanmore neither," she 
 answered, "for I heard Mr. Sylvester telling the 
 Glin boys to be vv^atching for your honour, and it will 
 be the Lord's mercy, and no thanks to the ould 
 villain, if he has not sent another lot of them to follow 
 ye on the way that ye have come ! " 
 
 The Colonel, though fearless of death, would not 
 throw his life away without an effort to save it. He 
 was reflecting what he had best do, when a whistle 
 
 II* 
 
l64 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 from the direction in which he was going was 
 answered by another from behind. The girl's con- 
 jectures had been right. They were between two parties 
 who were advancing from opposite sides, and in a few 
 minutes would meet where they were standing. 
 
 The morass was impassable. They would have 
 sunk in it before they had gone five steps, 
 
 " Quick, quick ! " the girl said. " Trust yourself to 
 me, your honour ! There is but one way, but I can 
 guide ye, black as the night is. If it is bad for us to 
 see it will be worse for them to follow. The path up 
 the crag leads out on to the mountains, and once 
 there they would not find ye if there was a thousand 
 of them ! " 
 
 Goring glanced doubtfully in her face. Her father, 
 as he knew, had once been connected with the 
 smugglers. Was it possible that this girl could be in 
 league with his pursuers ? But he had gone through 
 life on the principle of trusting those who appeared to 
 be frank and honest, and over-suspicion is as 
 dangerous as over-confidence 
 
 " Let us go," he said. " I believe }-ou are telling me 
 the truth. If you are not, I am sorry for you. But you 
 must lead the way — it is as dark as a wolf's throat ! " 
 " Quick, then," she answered. " Spake no word, 
 and step as lightly as you can, lest ye set the stones 
 rolling." 
 
 The caution was easier to give than to observe. 
 Her own feet were bare, and she moved as noiselessly 
 as a cat. The Colonel's shooting boots were nailed 
 with iron sprigs. 
 
 A few yards of heather only divided the road from 
 the foot of the cliff. At a distance it appeared to 
 be a continuous wall. But it was cracked in the 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY, i6c 
 
 middle at a fault— one side had slid away from the 
 other, leaving a chasm between them into which a 
 debi'LS of earth and rubble had fallen from above. 
 The grass had grown over it, and there was thus a 
 steep, narrow, green slope running up for seventy 
 or eighty feet between two walls of rock, which, 
 however, approached gradually and finally ended 
 in a chimney which could not be ascended. To go 
 up the slope, therefore, was apparently to be shut 
 into a funnel from which there was no exit. 
 The girl, however, made directly for it, with the 
 speed of a goat. The Colonel followed with more 
 difficulty, but he was light of foot and active, and 
 as long as the grass lasted moved as silently as his 
 guide. In three minutes they reached the bottom of 
 the chimney, and paused to recover breath. They 
 were but just in time, for as they turned round they 
 could hear and indistinctly see that a number of dark- 
 figures already surrounded the monument, and were 
 looking about them and searching the ground. They 
 were sure that their intended victim had been on the 
 road between them. He could not have crossed the 
 morass. He must be somewhere concealed under the 
 cliff They speedily found the slope ; a very short 
 time would have sufficed for them to discover the 
 object of their pursuit, had the opening in the rock 
 been the cul-de-sac which it appeared to be. But 
 where the slope ended, a horizontal crack ran along 
 the face of the precipice on the western side. A 
 narrow shelf had been thus formed, six inches wide, 
 where the sheep crossed on their way to the lower 
 ground, and where a man could go whose head was 
 steady. In daylight there was little difficulty, for the 
 dangerous part extended but for twenty feet or so. 
 
i66 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 The Colonel's guide was familiar with the place, for 
 the short cut went that way from Glenbeg to 
 Killmakilloge. Her acquaintance with it now saved 
 the Colonel's life and her own. The passage across 
 was a mere ledge. The girl stepped along it without 
 hesitation. The Colonel had to feel his way with foot 
 and hand, but followed her without accident. Turn- 
 ing a projecting point of rock they found themselves 
 on a path beaten by the sheep, which led out upon 
 the face of the mountain, and there, with the whole 
 country open before them, pursuit in the dark would be 
 hopeless, even if the pursuers could find the way by 
 which they had escaped. 
 
 Here they stopped again, for the Colonel to collect 
 himself. As he was leaving the cliff he displaced a 
 loose boulder, which rolled over the precipice and sent 
 the shingle flying at the foot of it. The fall of the stone 
 betrayed the direction of the flight of the fugitives. 
 Shots were fired at points where they might be supposed 
 to be, and a dozen forms were seen scrambling among 
 the crags, and searching for the outlet from the funnel. 
 One perhaps found it and tried to cross, for there 
 was a sound of a heavy fall, and of a. shout for help. 
 Gradually the chase was abandoned, and Colonel 
 Goring and his singular guide found themselves alone 
 on the hill. 
 
 The general character of the range on a spur of 
 which they were standing is like that of MacGilli- 
 cuddys Reeks, over the Cpper Lake of Killarne>', like 
 the Snowdon Range in North Wales, and man}' simi- 
 lar formations. It was as if when the earth's crust was 
 hot and soft like dough, a handful of it had been 
 seized and pinched b}' gigantic fingers into sharp 
 ridges, radiating like spokes from a common centre : 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 167 
 
 while between these ridges ran deep hollow gorges, 
 closed at the top with precipices, and opening out below 
 as the circumference extended into broad valleys. 
 The sloping sides of these gorges were covered with 
 loose stones or scattered patches of heather, and were 
 so steep that in broad daylight the shepherd or the 
 grouse shooter had carefully to pick his way. Along 
 the edges the walking was comparatively easy, but 
 they were broken and cleft in so many directions, and 
 the tracks left by cattle were so misleading, that in the 
 night time, or if clouds were on the mountains, a 
 stranger would inevitably lose himself. On a distant 
 point of the range on which the Colonel stood, was 
 the cairn where the tithe proctor had been murdered. 
 This in a direct line was seven miles off, and could he 
 reach it he would know where he was, and could find 
 his way home. But he would have to struggle along 
 the summits of the ridges, with the valley of Ard- 
 groom and Glenbeg on one side of him, of Glanmore 
 on the other, and of a branch of Glanmore, yet 
 sterner and gloomier, which was called the Pocket, the 
 cliffs at the upper end of which were almost perpen- 
 dicular. If the risk of this route was too great to be 
 encountered in the dark, it was possible for him to 
 make his way back to a lower point of the road which 
 he had left, with the danger of being again waylaid. 
 His simplest plan, had he been at leisure and not 
 pressed for time, would have been to have dislodged 
 a sheep from behind a stone and have slept till day- 
 light, where the grass would have become dry and 
 \\'arm ; but he was anxious to reach Dunboy with 
 the least possible delay, and he had also to think 
 of his companion, who had ventured her life for him. 
 To be alone on the mountain at night, with a )'oung 
 
■l68 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 woman, was an equivocal position for both of them. 
 The girl herself was so absolutely innocent, that the 
 very suspicion that there might be an impropriety in 
 such a situation had evidently not occurred to her ; 
 nor was it easy for Colonel Goring to suggest such a 
 thing. But he felt himself the more bound to see that 
 she was not exposed on his account to the insolent 
 jests of scandalous tongues, or to the darker perils from 
 the vindictiveness of the people, were it known that 
 she had prevented his assassination. Her own idea 
 had been to guide him straight to her father's cabin at 
 Glenbeg, where h-e would be on his own soil. Two 
 hours' walking would bring them thither. The path 
 was but a few yards from them, and she had travelled 
 it a hundred times. He could have his supper there 
 on milk and porridge, sleep on a bed of heather, and 
 be off over the mountains before sunrise. The old 
 man was now his tenant, and owed to him all the 
 comforts which he enjoyed. On his secrecy Goring 
 felt that he could depend. But he remembered, and 
 the girl was forced to admit, that since their condition 
 had been impro\'ed they had two farm serxants with 
 them, and who could answer for the fidelity of these ? 
 Although the Moriartys' connection with the smug- 
 glers had never been renewed, there were rumours 
 that strange faces were still occasionally seen at the 
 head of the glen. How swift, sudden and terrible, Irish 
 revenge could be. Goring had too good reason to 
 know ; and the thought that on his account the 
 blackened bodies of the father and daughter might 
 be found some morning amidst the ashes of their 
 home, surrounded by the maimed carcases of their 
 dead or dying cattle, was too dreadful to be en- 
 countered. 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 169 
 
 To Glenbeg he distinctly would not go, nor if he 
 could help it would he allow his companion to remain 
 with him till morning, with the chance of being seen 
 and recognised by some shepherd or wool-stealer. 
 
 She, on the other hand, insisted that her father 
 would put her from the door, and never take her 
 home again, if she left him to find his way alone. 
 So another alternative suggested itself to him. 
 
 Unacquainted as he was generally with the Kerry 
 side of the range, circumstances had made him at one 
 time painfully familiar with the gorge which was called 
 the Pocket. It was a singular place. The bottom of 
 the valley joins Glanmore, and is low and level. A 
 mile and a half above the junction, a wall of rocks 
 stretches across, six hundred feet high, over which a 
 stream falls in a series of cascades. Above this wall 
 is what perhaps was once a lake, but it has been filled 
 in, and forms now a smooth level meadow, completely 
 shut in by the mountains. The soil of the meadow is 
 and was in Goring's time exceptionally good. A 
 solitary farm-house stood in the middle of it, and 
 there was no other human habitation within several 
 miles. Here had lived a peasant with a wife and maid- 
 servant, many cattle, and a few acres of oats and 
 potatoes, a man well-to-do as Kerry then was, but of 
 gloomy and solitary habits. It happened that a clerk 
 from Goring's mine works absconded, taking a bag of 
 money with him. He made his way through the hills, 
 climbed down one night on the precipice, and, trusting 
 to the sympathy of the Irish mind with delinquents of 
 all kinds, asked and obtained a night's lodging at the 
 farm. The farmer, tempted by the gold, killed him 
 while he was sleeping, and buried him in a bog hole. 
 Suspecting that he had been seen by the maid-servant, 
 
70 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 he threw her over the waterfall also, and pretended that 
 she had fallen down by accident. The Irish^ lawless 
 though they be, feel as much horror as other people 
 at the baser forms of crime. The murders were dis- 
 covered ; the murderer was executed. Goring had 
 been several times on the spot when the bodies were 
 being searched for. He was confident tliat if his com- 
 panion would but guide him as far as the farm, which 
 had since been deserted, he could thence make his 
 way alone. 
 
 The Pocket, after being the scene of so horrible an 
 atrocity, had naturally borne an evil name. Not only 
 did the farm remain untenanted, but no one willingly 
 went near the place in the day-time, and after night- 
 fall it was supposed to be left to spirits of darkness. 
 Mary Mori arty, when he suggested this plan, showed 
 marked unwillingness. She told him a story of a 
 relative of hers who had gone there looking for the 
 stolen money, which had never been recovered. He 
 had seen smoke coming out of a peat bank, and when 
 he went to look, he found a place for all the world 
 like a whiskey still, and a little creature no bigger than 
 his hand stirring the fire, and he offered her relative a 
 sup of whiske}^, and he took it and he found it was 
 melted gold that he was swallowing, and he came to 
 himself with the pain, and he was in his own cabin by 
 the fire-side, and the water from the kettle pouring 
 on the face of him. Finding Goring only laughed, 
 she grew positive and angry. She could not find 
 the place. He would lose his footing in the crags. 
 The road below would be safer for his honour than 
 that black, uq^Iv crlen. The more unwillinjj she 
 showed herself, the more Goring felt that she had 
 some reason for it beyond what she acknowledged, 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 171 
 
 and the more determined he was to discover what the 
 reason could be. 
 
 At length, finding that he was obstinate, she said, 
 " Well, then, I'll take your honour to the edge of the 
 cliff, anyway. The moon will be rising by that time, 
 and )^e can look over and see what will be before ye. If 
 ye like to go further thin, ye may take your o\tn 
 way." 
 
 She set off up the ridge of the mountain, moving so 
 fast that Goring had no breath to ask further ques- 
 tions. They reached the crest, and she flitted on 
 before him, threading her way among moss hags and 
 jutting rocks , and along the side of slopes so steep 
 that a false step would have meant a roll of a hundred 
 feet, going all the time as straight and confident as a 
 hound upon a breast-high scent. At one point they 
 descended into a shallow chasm, where was a tarn, in 
 which the stars were glimmering and a lonely heron 
 was making his midnight meal. The bird rose with 
 an angry cry, as if demanding who, at such an hour, 
 was intruding on his fishing-ground. 
 
 For more than an hour they had walked on at full 
 speed, and Goring judged that, by that time, the point 
 for which they were making could not be far off His 
 guide suddenly stopped at the edge of the ridge, and 
 beckoned to him with her finger to come forward. 
 She was on the brink of a precipice, which fell abruptly 
 below her for seven hundred feet, and at the bottom 
 was spread out the broad, level meadow at the head 
 of the Pocket Valle}-. The moon had risen on the 
 shoulder of Knockowen, immediately opposite them, 
 and the pools of the river which stole slowly down the 
 middle of the glen were glimmering in the golden 
 light. He was^^^ft^^Jj^f^^jie scene, conscious of 
 
 ..fviiv/rRSlTY 
 
172 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 nothing but its extraordinary beauty, when she drew 
 him back, and bade him follow her a few feet down, 
 where they could stand with the rocks at their backs, 
 and be no longer in so conspicuous a position. In 
 explanation of this precaution, she pointed to the 
 deserted farm, and round it, looking carefully, he saw 
 a crowd of figures in rapid motion. What they were, 
 whether fairies come to dance in the moonlight, or 
 things of flesh and blood,. he knew not. They were 
 not more than a quarter of a mile from him, and, as he 
 looked steadih', he counted near six hundred of them. 
 
 They appeared to have white shirts on ; men, he 
 concluded them to be, from the regularity of their 
 movements, and from the short, sharp calls, like notes 
 of command, which, in the silence of the night, were 
 distinctly audible, their evolutions appeared to be 
 directed by some kind of authority. 
 
 *' As your honour belongs to the army," she said 
 " you will know what that means. Sorra be with 
 them. It is the old work they are after again, and 
 never good came to this poor country from the like of 
 it, and never will. Your honour, I'm thinking, will 
 hardly be willing to cross the glen, this night, in the 
 middle of them ? " 
 
 Goring had heard often of these midnight drills in 
 the mountains. He had, himself so far, seen nothing 
 of them, and but half believed, if he believed at 
 all, the stories which had reached him. Here was 
 the very thing under his eyes ; men enough to form 
 a regiment learning to handle their arms, form in 
 line and square, advance, charge, and wheel, and the 
 style in which they went through their exercises 
 showed that they must have experienced officers 
 among them. 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. i73 
 
 Perched high up like ravens, in a niche in the crag, 
 the Colonel could see without danger of being seen, 
 and could speak freely, being too far off for his voice 
 to be heard, unless he shouted. So interested, 
 however, was he in what he saw, that he stood for 
 some minutes without uttering a word. When he 
 could no longer doubt the reality of what was before 
 him, he turned to his guide for an explanation. 
 
 " You knew what would be going on here," he said, 
 *' and that was the reason why you did not Vv'ish to 
 bring me this way. How came they to trust you 
 with their secrets ? " 
 
 " Well then, I'll tell your honour. I heard the boys 
 talking down at the dance, and they were saying how 
 it was arranged that they were to meet in this place 
 after the funeral. W^e are* free enough when we are 
 speaking among ourselves, and they would as soon 
 think that the like of myself would be informing upon 
 them as if I were a child in the cradle. Sorra bit I 
 know whether I was doing right to lead ye here at all, 
 at all. There is none that lives that I would have 
 done it for, except your honour, nor would I have 
 done it for your honour's self, God spare ye ! but that 
 ye were bent upon your own harm." 
 
 " You may have done your country a good service, 
 my girl," he answered. " This poor, misguided people 
 are thinking of another rebellion, and they will only 
 destroy themselves if they try it. The French are 
 just encouraging them for their own purposes." 
 
 " It is likely that is true, your honour. Never good 
 came to Ireland of them French officers, that I heard 
 of. There was one of them hiding in the island in 
 Glanmore Lake, and there was a daughter of a farmer 
 on the hill beyond that brought him food when night 
 
174 
 
 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 fell, milk, and eggs, and meal, and the like, and what 
 was the end of it but evil and shame upon her father's 
 house ? It is but two years gone, but all is forgotten 
 now. The foolish creatures think the French will 
 help them to get the countr)^ back for their own." 
 
 " They have officers among them down there who 
 have been in some regular service." 
 
 " Your honour is right in that too, and as I have 
 shown you so much, I may as well tell ye all that I 
 know. Ye will have seen them young gentlemen that 
 were with Morty Sullivan at Derreen this afternoon. 
 There was Mr. Connell, that is from Darrynane, across 
 the water. He has been in Morty 's company in the 
 wars abroad for five years gone. And there was the 
 other, a Frenchman. Connell has gone away with 
 Morty in the ship he has. This one was left, and he 
 is yonder. Morty was to have been here himself, 
 and the meeting was ordered for him. He has 
 muskets, and pistols, and swords, and barrels of 
 powder and other divilry with him. I heard the 
 boys saying that he was to have landed them in the 
 boats up the river this night, and the boys were to 
 have had them given out for the exercise here in the 
 glen. But your honour put the shame upon him. 
 He was out of humour like, and he would not stay. 
 He left his friend to meet the boys in the place of 
 him, and to tell them the arms should be put on 
 shore for them two nights hence at Glengariff or one of 
 thim places. He has slipped away out to the Sea, 
 that your honour may think he's gone, but he is 
 coming back to land the chests, bad luck to him, and 
 thin the French gentleman is to join him again." 
 
 " Did the lads at the dance say positively when the 
 arms were to be landed ? " 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 175 
 
 " 'Twas the night after the next Morty was to 
 come in. I am sure of that. They were talking so 
 I couldn't hear distinctly the place they agreed on. 
 Some one said Glengariff. It was one he and the> 
 knew well enough, any way." 
 
 At the end of an hour the evolutions ended. The 
 men formed into a large circle and sang an Irish 
 chant, of which the words were inaudible, but the 
 vowel sounds floated up in the night breezes and 
 died in the gorges of the mountains. When it was 
 over they all disappeared, as if they were unsub- 
 stantial as the phantoms they resembled. 
 
 " You and I must be going," said Goring, " and be 
 quick upon our road, or the dawn will be upon us 
 before you can reach your home. I too must hasten 
 to mine, to prevent these foolish peasants from being 
 furnished with such means of mischief. We will now 
 make for the hills above Glenbeg. It cannot be more 
 than two or three miles from us. I will see you to a 
 point where you can look down at your father's cabin, 
 and then we must part." 
 
 The daylight had not begun to appear when they 
 reached the point that Goring spoke of. It was still 
 dark, and the girl could make her way into the valley 
 without fear that she would have been seen in his 
 company. Goring shook her hand warm-ly. 
 
 " I can never forget this night," he said. " I have 
 heard others say that the faults of the Irish are 
 the faults of a noble nature, which has been 
 wrenched out of its proper shape. I believe it now ; 
 for in no race in this world could I have found man 
 or woman who would have risked what you have 
 risked to save one whom you have been told to look 
 on as the enemy of your country. Such I am not. 
 
176 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 Such my countrymen are not, and we might be 
 friends if we could but understand each other. But 
 God reward you, my brave girl, and make you happy, 
 and never shall you or yours want a friend while I 
 or my wife are alive. 
 
 " Before we separate, however, I must ask you two 
 questions, you will answer them or not, as you choose, 
 but I am aware that you know many of the secrets 
 of the lawless bands who have so long disturbed the 
 quiet of these baronies. 1 have asked your father 
 for no information, because he never concealed from 
 me his own past connection with them. I was 
 satisfied that it had ended, and I could not ask, I could 
 wish him to betray his old friends. Nor can I wish 
 you to tell me what can hurt one of them. But I 
 desire to learn how, and by whom he was taken down 
 the lake on the day you came to Dunboy to tell me 
 that he was dying." 
 
 " I'll tell you that, and no harm," she said. " It was 
 some old friends of ours that had come to Ardgroom 
 in a sloop the night before, from Nantes. They 
 heard by chance how it was with him. They carried 
 him down in their boat. They took care of him, and 
 they took care of myself, as if we were their own 
 flesh and blood. If it was breaking the laws they 
 were after, I hope there is pardon for them in heaven, 
 for they saved my father's life that day." 
 
 "As I was on my v/ay to see him," Goring said. 
 " I met a man on the hill-top, whom I saw yesterday 
 at Derreen, at Morty Sullivan's side. Was Morty 
 Sullivan one of these friends you speak of ? " 
 
 " He was not that. He was not here at all. It is Mr. 
 Connell ye are meaning. He it was that came with 
 the sloop, and the others with him. He went in the 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 177 
 
 boat to Glenbeg. He gave my father what he needed 
 He left his men to carry him down, and went 
 himself to the mountain. Your honour knows what 
 you saw there." 
 
 " I know. I know. Fearful wrong had been done, 
 and it was fearfully revenged. Had Connell a hand 
 in that business ? for he told me No." 
 
 " He tould you no more than the truth, but if your 
 honour thinks you owe me any kindness for this 
 night's work, you will ask me no more questions. I 
 could tell you all, but I dare not. They swore me on 
 the skull that I would never speak, and a dreadful 
 oath it is, and fearful to think on. They say that if 
 you break it, this is the one sin for which the priest can 
 give you no forgiveness. And now God save you, 
 sir, and bring ye safe hame to your friends. If ye 
 will take a poor girl's advice ye will be gone out of 
 this country back to your own land ye came from. 
 It was a good day for my old father that brought ye 
 here, and there is many besides us that has cause to 
 bless ye. But it will be a better day for yourself that 
 takes ye away, for ye have ill friends here, and that 
 ye have cause to know." 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The dawn was breaking when Goring reached the 
 Cork side of the mountains, from which he could 
 look over Dunboy, and could see his own house 
 among the trees. As he made his way down he had 
 to review his own position, and determine what he 
 must immediately do. He had no help to look for 
 among his neighbours, and it would be useless to 
 appeal to them. But his own settlement was thriving 
 
 12 
 
178 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 beyond his most sanguine expectations. The veins 
 of copper in the mines proved richer, the deeper the 
 workings were carried. The fisheries had yielded 
 and were still yielding a golden harvest. The oat 
 crops were ripe and abundant. The potatoes 
 promised admirably. There was ill-will enough 
 among many of the Catholics, but it showed itself 
 more in manner than in act ; and indeed, unless there 
 was a general insurrection, his people formed a society 
 among themselves and could hold their own against 
 local jealousies. Though so careless of his personal 
 security, Colonel Goring had provided them amply 
 with arms ; and an occasional muster on a holiday, 
 with targets and shooting matches, was a warning 
 that they would be dangerous to meddle with. 
 Hitherto, beyond threatening letters, there had been 
 no cause for serious alarm, and the high wages paid 
 at the works for carting and digging continued to 
 attract Irish labourers in spite of the Priest's efforts to 
 keep them away. An outward friendliness between 
 the new-comers and the old inhabitants established 
 itself as if against the wind, the material temptations 
 proving too strong for the inherited dislike. At 
 various times, under the efforts of the agitators, 
 straying cows had been mutilated, fences broken 
 down, nets and fishing lines cut ar^ stolen, and oars 
 taken away from the boats. An old man at the pier 
 at Dunboy had burst out upon Goring himself 
 '* Bad luck to the hour that ye came among us," he 
 said, ''with your barges and your drift nets that catch 
 all the large herring, and leave but the little ones 
 to the poor Irish that own the whole." The paltry 
 anno}'ances to which he had been exposed by persons 
 who pretended to have claims on the property had 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY, 179 
 
 given him serious trouble ; but the claimants had 
 been defeated and silenced, and among the peasantry 
 he had made way by his unwearied generosity and 
 kindness. They had found a protector in him against 
 the middlemen and the Bantry attorneys, and 
 although among these classes the animosity was 
 unrelenting as ever, he was sanguine enough to believe 
 that the rest were not ungrateful to him. 
 
 But the scene which he had witnessed that night 
 taught him that the danger was far more real than he 
 had hitherto supposed. His own life was aimed at in 
 earnest ; but more than that, preparations were being 
 evidently made for serious disturbance. Once more 
 the French Government was actively encouraging an 
 insurrectionary spirit. A French descent on the coast 
 was not unlikely as soon as war should openly be 
 declared at home. If the object was only to distract 
 and embarrass the English troops, and prevent the 
 despatch of increased forces to the American continent, 
 the peril to the Irish counties of the south was equally 
 great ; for there were not regiments enough to 
 encounter a wide-spread rising, if organised bodies, 
 like those who had been at the moonlight drill, were 
 to take the field and fall on the loosely-scattered 
 and scanty loyalists. On the country gentlemen he 
 was pretty well assured that no confidence could be 
 placed at all. His connection with the coastguard 
 was a weakness rather than a support to him, and he 
 regretted that he had been tempted to meddle with 
 it. He felt, however, that while the peril lasted, he 
 ought not to resign. He must make fresh efforts to 
 brincr the Government to look the situation in the 
 face, and not till they had again refused to take 
 measures for the protection of the country, would 
 
i3o THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY 
 
 he request them to provide him with a successor. 
 Above all, he must do his utmost to prevent the 
 landing of the arms which would turn the white- 
 shirted companies into really formidable banditti. 
 He must instantly inform the admiral of the station 
 of Morty's arrival with the Doutellc, and secure, if 
 possible, her capture and destruction. 
 
 At Dunboy he found everything quiet. After the 
 exciting scenes which he had passed through, the 
 composure itself seemed unnatural. When we are 
 ourselves strongly excited, we expect what is round 
 us to reflect the condition of our own minds. We are 
 astonished when the common affairs of daily life go 
 their ow^n way, refuse to be agitated because we are 
 uneasy, or to smile or weep as we are happy or 
 sorrowful. No news had as yet arrived of the 
 incidents at the funeral. At his own house no one 
 was as yet stirring, for when he reached it the sun was 
 but just above the horizon. The men outside were 
 going about their work, and he was himself so often 
 out on night expeditions that his return in the morn- 
 ing created no surprise among them. One of his fish- 
 ing smacks had just come in from outside with 
 a heavy catch of cod and ling. He directed 
 two of the fishermen to take them in a boat to 
 Bantry and dispose of them. He sent with them an 
 Irishman in his service, on whom he could absolutely 
 rely. He wrote a few words to the Admiral, which 
 for security he sewed in the lining of the m.an's coat. 
 He bade him make his way from Bantry across 
 the co'jntry with all possible speed, and deliver the 
 note into the Adm.iral's own hands either at Cork or 
 Kinsale, at whichever port the squadron might be. 
 The boat dispatched, his next anxiety was to discover 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUXBOY. i8i 
 
 by such other channels of information as he possessed 
 at what point Morty Suhivan would attempt to run 
 his arm-chests. That the attempt would be made in a 
 night or two, he was convinced, as Morty would not 
 venture to remain on the coast any longer. The 
 landing, however, could not be managed without an 
 arrangement with confederates on shore ; and the 
 original plan having fallen through, fresh dispositions 
 would be necessary. If the Moriarty girl's story 
 was cOxTect, these dispositions had been already made. 
 The time had been fixed for the night after the next, 
 and an officer of the Doutelle had been left behind 
 to take charge of them. She had heard Glengariff 
 mentioned, but Glengariff bay was wide, and the time 
 was short. If all the men who had been in the 
 Pocket were brought down to receive the arms, he 
 could of course do nothing, and his best chance 
 would then be that his messenger should find a frigate 
 ready to put to sea, which could catch Morty in the 
 open water. The chances were, however, that so large 
 a body would not be collected for fear of attracting 
 observation, and that the local gangs only would be 
 employed to receive the cargo. Spies were sent 
 about to gather anything that could be heard. 
 Watchmen went to the tops of the hills to keep a 
 look-out towards the sea. The Colonel, having done 
 all which for the moment he could do, swallowed a 
 hasty breakfast, threw himself on his bed, and slept. 
 
 It was late in the afternoon when he a\\^oke. 
 Parties returning over the mountains from the funeral 
 had meanwhile brought the account of the duel, with 
 the rumour that the SuUivans had lain in wait to kill 
 the master on his way home. They had failed, and 
 were savage at the disappointment ; but how he had 
 
i82 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 escaped no one could say, nor, when it was ascertained 
 beyond a doubt that he was in his own house, could any- 
 one guess how he had got there. The yard at Dunboy 
 was crowded with anxious parties from the mines, 
 who had come to assure themselves of his safety. 
 Morty Sullivan was on every one's lip. He had been 
 seen here, he had been seen there. He was coming 
 into the harbour to destroy the master's own dwelling 
 with his guns. Among the many stories flying, the 
 most credible was brought in by a sloop which had 
 fallen in outside with a Scariff fishing boat. The 
 Scariff men said that before daylight that morning, 
 a large vessel with two masts and a strange rig had 
 been near them in a calm. They had been on board 
 her, selling their fish. She was full of men, who said 
 they had a thousand stand of arms on board, and fifty 
 barrels of powder. The country was about to rise, 
 and they said the French were coming over and all 
 the English were to be killed. They professed to be 
 going to Dingle, where the powder and guns were to 
 be landed, but a breeze had sprung up, and the la.st 
 the Scariff boat saw of them they wer£ standing out 
 to sea, whither bound they could not say. Nothing in 
 the meanwhile had been seen of her by the look-out 
 men, and speculation was at fault. 
 
 Colonel Goring had desired to be informed when 
 the boat returned which he had sent up with the fish. 
 Three men had gone in her, and one was to carry his 
 message to Cork. It was with surprise and some 
 uneasiness that he learnt that three had come back. 
 On hastening to meet them at the landing place, he 
 was relieved to find that his messenger was not one 
 of them. The third man was a stranger, who had 
 induced the boatmen to bring him down, by alleging 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 183 
 
 that he had matters of importance to speak to the 
 Colonel about 
 
 These matters did not seem important after all. 
 He was a carrier from Dunmanway, he said, and 
 he traded in salt butter for the Cork market. His 
 honour, he understood, was cheated by the Bantry 
 dealers about his fish. The finest cod that had been 
 caught for the season had been sent up that morning, 
 and divil a right price at all had been paid for them. 
 He would be glad to do the Colonel's business him- 
 self that way, if his honour would be pleased to meet 
 him. 
 
 Harassed and anxious as he was. Goring would 
 have turned the Dunmanway carrier over to his 
 steward, but he gathered from the man's manner that 
 he might have more to say, and let him talk a little 
 longer. 
 
 Carriage, the fellow said, seemed mighty scarce 
 in Bantry. The boys had been wanting his carts and 
 horses for the next day, and for the life of him he 
 couldn't tell what they were about that they would be 
 taking them. Maybe there was work going on 
 carting sea-weed, or the like of that. But for all else 
 they had to do they might carry the sea-weed on their 
 backs, the poor creatures. 
 
 When an Irishman has information (o give, which he 
 supposes to be valuable, he will ^o round half-a-dozen 
 times before he comes to it. Secrets often reached 
 Goring from singular sources, which were afterwards 
 well paid for. The carrier had probably some such 
 secret, and was anxious to know what he would get for 
 telling it. The Colonel on his side had to take care 
 that he did not pay for illusions. Gradually, sentence 
 by sentence, he drew out that the carts and horses were 
 
1 84 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 to be on the shore at the harbour at Glcngariff on the 
 night following. A vessel of some sort was coming 
 up from the sea. A contraband cargo of some kind 
 was to be run, and taken off into the country before 
 daylight. 
 
 The man's story might be purposely misleading, 
 but Colonel Goring was experienced in such things. 
 It corresponded exactly w^th what he had learned 
 already. The Doutelle had stood off to sea, as Mary 
 Moriarty had heard that she was to do. She w^as to 
 return on the following night, as she had heard also. 
 The landing was to be at a spot at Glcngariff with 
 which the coast smugglers were all familiar. The 
 carrier again named Glcngariff, and there was such a 
 spot in the harbour where the road came down to the 
 water, and carts and horses could conveniently ap- 
 proach. He knew it intimately, for it had been often 
 used for similar enterprises. If he was right in his 
 conjecture, he concluded that, although it would be a 
 work of difficulty and considerable danger, he might 
 succeed either in preventing the landing or in destroy- 
 ing the cargo, from the peculiar disposition of the rocks 
 and of the channels between them. A glance at the 
 tideway shewed him that it w^ould be low water at the 
 hour fixed, which would give him an additional ad- 
 vantage. The Doutelle was heavily armed, and had a 
 powerful and daring crew. The country people might 
 be down in overwhelming numbers. Together they 
 might be too much for him, but in that case he calcu- 
 lated that in the darkness he could draw off among 
 the Islands. Of the coast-guardsmen he had five 
 left, and one unfit for duty, but of his own fishermen 
 and miners he had thirty or forty who had volunteered 
 for such expeditions on previous occasions. They had 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 185 
 
 a natural contempt for the Irish. They looked on 
 them as watchdogs look on wolves and jackals, with 
 whom an occasional fray is part of the natural order 
 of things. 
 
 Colonel Goring slept upon his problem, and woke 
 the next morning resolute, with his plan settled in his 
 mind. He sent for five or six of his people on whom 
 he could best depend. He told them frankly that 
 the South of Ireland was in a more dangerous con- 
 dition than they had hitherto experienced. The 
 calm of the surface was deceptive. The peasantry 
 of the mountains had been drilling in large numbers. 
 He had himself seen them. He had learnt that arms 
 were that night to be landed for them, and when 
 these arms were in their possession the Protestants at 
 Dunboy, with their wives and children, would be 
 in considerable peril. He reminded them, though he 
 would not suppose that they needed reminding, that 
 they had come over from England on terms advan- 
 tageous to themselves. They had land, they had 
 employment, they had high wages, and a fairer chance 
 of advancing themselves than they could have found 
 in Cornwall or Devonshire. But they were aware 
 also that they might have to fight to keep what 
 they had got. He believed it to be indispensable to 
 their safety to prevent these arms from being put on 
 shore, and he had to ask them how far they and their 
 companions would stand by him in an endeavour to 
 seize them. 
 
 Englishmen are not easily frightened at the sound 
 of danger. These men too had the old Puritan tem- 
 perament in them. On each 23rd of October they 
 had observed the anniversary of the massacre by the 
 Irish \\\ 1 64 1, and they had sternly rejoiced in the re- 
 
i86 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 tribution which Oliver Cromwell, with a mere handful 
 of English troops who had the fear of God in them, 
 had inflicted upon Phelim O'Neil and his confederates. 
 That they could fail themselves, in an encounter with 
 an Irish mob or a boat full of privateer's-men, never 
 crossed their thoughts. They were not only willing to 
 go, but eager, and their comrades they said would 
 accompany them to a man. Colonel Goring desired 
 them to pick out thirty of their best and coolest shots. 
 These, with the four coastguardsmen and himself, he 
 thought, would be sufficient. He charged them to 
 mention the subject to no one, except to those who 
 were to go, for if the slightest hint got abroad, warning 
 fires would be lighted on the hills, and the scheme 
 which he had formed would be defeated. At low 
 water the Doiitelle would have to anchor half a mile 
 from the cove were he was assured the landing would 
 be attempted. Certain reefs of rock would then be 
 left dry which commanded the entrance to it. These 
 rocks he intended to occupy after nightfall, and if no 
 alarm was given, he believed that he could shelter 
 himself among them unseen. 
 
 Often after sunset the larger boats went out with 
 drift nets, or with long lines for skate and congers. 
 No particular notice, therefore, would be attracted if 
 two or three boats were seen to leave the harbour with 
 eight or ten men in each. Colonel Goring himself 
 often joined in these night fishings ; and that the party 
 eoino- out with him was rather above the usual strength 
 could be accounted for by the great schools of herrings 
 and mackerel which had been seen about the bay in 
 the morning. Two of the boats chosen were the 
 fastest the Colcncl had. They were like the galleys 
 of a man-of-war, and were rowed with ten oars, or on 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 187 
 
 occasion with twelve. The third was smaller and 
 lighter, and was the swiftest of the three. They were 
 kept in sheds out of sight, and the preparations could 
 be completed unobserved. Among the stores there was 
 an armoury, and every thing necessary for the expe- 
 dition lay there ready to hand. Late in the afternoon, 
 for till then nothing was touched, that there might be 
 no sign of anything unusual, fifty rifles and pistols, 
 cases of cartridges, and as many cutlasses and dirks, 
 were distributed among the boats and laid in the 
 bottom. Nets, ropes, and lines, were flung over them. 
 The men were in their Common fishing dress. Colonel 
 Goring in sea boots and shooting jacket. The night 
 promised to be dark — there would be no moon till 
 three in the morning ; they started out under cover 
 of the dusk, and by their course they seemed to be 
 making for the usual fishing ground behind the 
 Island. 
 
 In half an hour the last of the daylight was gone. 
 They could scarcely see the land themselves, and were 
 in no danger at all of being seen from it. They then 
 headed away for the lonely inlet of Adrigoole, which 
 was half-way to the place of their destination. 
 Adrigoole lay at the foot of Hungry Hill. In the 
 afternoon Goring had sent a scout to the top of it to 
 examine the horizon for signs of the D out die, and 
 with orders to meet him there with the latest in- 
 formation. The scout brought word that he had 
 distinctly seen her after sunset coming in towards the 
 land. She was then outside the Durseys, and, if the 
 breeze held, would soon be running up the Bay. 
 
 No doubt now remained. The wind was right 
 from the westward ; it was inclining to fall, but the 
 Doutelles large canvas would draw her fast throusfh 
 
iSS THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 the water so long as any air remained, and the ebbing 
 tide would not delay her long. The men lifted out 
 their nets and stowed them awa\' in a cave, got 
 their arms out and put them in order, and then 
 rowed on close under the shore with muffled oars. 
 The surface of the water was still, but there was a 
 long ground swell, which broke and moaned upon 
 the rocks, and protected them from being heard still 
 more effectively. 
 
 The night was hazy without either stars or moon ; 
 but at sea it is seldom absolutely dark, and before 
 long they saw the spars and sails of ^forty's vessel 
 against the midnight sky as she swept slowly by. 
 x\s the tide was out she would have to make a round 
 to enter Glengariff harbour. B}- keeping to the west 
 of the rocky islands at the mouth the boats would 
 be there before her. 
 
 The landing cove was on the farther side, where 
 the Bantr\^ road approached the water's edge. So 
 far, Goring had been concealed from observation by 
 keeping under the cliff; but between him and the rocks 
 which he designed to occupy there was now a stretch 
 of open water, which in some wa\- it was necessary 
 for him to cross. He had a double danger to guard 
 against. He might be seen from the shore and seen 
 from the DoutcUc, and ]Mort\''s eyes would perhaps be 
 helped by night glasses. He had no time to lose 
 either, for the vessel was fast running up. He could 
 reach the middle of the passage unobserved by ma- 
 noeuvring behind the Islands at the entrance. From 
 there he had to dash boldly across, and there was a 
 mile of dangerous water should any sharp eye be 
 looking out. Beyond this he would be in the shelter 
 of overhanging woods, and could reach the reef un- 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 189 
 
 observed. Fortune peculiarly favoured him that 
 night. No one saw or heard him. The ground swell 
 was unusually loud, and drowned all other sounds. 
 
 He had marked on other occasions the characteristic 
 features of the spot. At low tide the cove was a natural 
 harbour, of which reefs on either side formed the 
 piers, leaving a narrow opening between them. The 
 depth of it from the mouth to the landing beach was 
 two hundred yards, and inside was a completely 
 sheltered pool, like that described by Homer, where 
 boats could run in and be left unmoored. The reef 
 or pier on the western side was not a single ridge but 
 double. It was formed rather of two ridees runniiip- 
 parallel, with a channel between them, and there boats 
 could lie unseen either from the shore or from the 
 water. There was depth sufficient for the largest of 
 Goring' s galleys to float, and two hands left in each 
 would hold them ready for instant service. 
 
 Into this channel they made their way without 
 having been perceived ; and Goring, with the boat- 
 swain of the coastguard, crept to the top of the 
 rock to reconnoitre. The entrance to the cove was 
 directly under them, and he could see faintly to the 
 shingle and sand at the end of it. His first anxiety 
 was to ascertain whether the country people \\ere 
 down in force. He made out, dimly, some half-dozen 
 carts and horses standing in the road, and a few 
 indistinct figures were seen moving about the sands ; 
 but, in the obscurity, he could come to no certain 
 conclusion. Against there being a large gathering, 
 was, that they would think it unnecessary, as they were 
 not likely to be interfered with. On the other hand, 
 the cargo was of unusual importance, and they would 
 not neglect reasonable precautions. On the whole 
 
I90 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 however, whether there were few or many on shore 
 seemed of less importance. In an affair of this kind, 
 he knew that he could count on the cowardice of the 
 common Irish. The reef of rocks where he stood 
 could not be reached from the land without swim- 
 ming, as it was detached at the shore end. The 
 real danger was from the boats of the privateer ; 
 and these he purposed to take by surprise as they 
 passed close to him, which they would be obliged 
 to do. 
 
 The mist rose a few minutes after they had taken 
 their positions, and the Doutelle was seen creeping into 
 the bay. The breeze had fallen, and she was gliding 
 through the water, rather with the motion which she 
 had brought with her than from any force which was 
 left in the wind. She went on till she had passed an 
 Island with an old castle upon it, designed for the 
 protection of the anchorage, but now left by the 
 general neglect to become a deserted ruin. Here she 
 swung round. The canvas was taken in, and the)- 
 heard the rattling of her chain-cable as the anchor 
 was let go. The peak of the mainsail was dropped, 
 her foresail furled, and her topsails lowered. In a 
 few minutes she lay still and motionless. A blaze of 
 straw from the shore was answered by a blue light on 
 her deck. Her largest boat had, the day before, been 
 disabled by the fall of a spar, which had stove in the 
 side of it; but she had two others, which she was 
 towing at her stern, to be ready for immediate use, 
 and a heavy turf barge of the country had been left 
 moored at the spot where she was to bring up. This 
 was brought alongside, and, the creaking of blocks 
 and the running of ropes through the sheaves, 
 announced that the chests were being lowered into it. 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 191 
 
 Many hands were employed, and the work was swiftly 
 accomplished, and the silence which followed was 
 again broken by the splash of oars. 
 
 Had Colonel Goring's object been simply to defeat 
 the landing, or to cripple as much as possible the 
 smuggler's crew, he had only to land his men, place 
 them in secure positions among the rocks, and fire into 
 the boats at close quarters as they entered the cove. 
 But he could not yet tell how large might be the 
 force opposed to him. The vessel might have boats 
 in reserve. The party on shore might have boats 
 also, and he might be attacked on both sides, and he 
 had to hold himself in a condition to retreat, if he was 
 in danger of being overpowered. 
 
 So far his presence was unsuspected, and the 
 surprise would be complete. But there were forms of 
 law to be observed also. Before firing on the boats, 
 he must summon them to surrender. It occurred to 
 him, for a moment, that he might carry the vessel 
 herself, while the strength of her crew was absent. 
 But he reflected that he would be seen approaching, 
 and to fail would be fatal ; so he divided his party ; 
 half he left in the boats, with orders to keep them- 
 selves in readiness to take the others on board at an 
 instant's notice. The rest he disposed behind the top 
 of the reef, which the tide had left fifteen feet out of 
 the water. The Doiitelle was half-a-mile off Her 
 guns commanded the rocks, but the channel behind, 
 where the boats were lying, was completel)^ sheltered ; 
 and, at worst, if she got their range, there was cover 
 among the clefts and cracks. 
 
 The sound of oars now drew nearer every moment, 
 and black forms began to show on the water, growing 
 larger as they came nearer. At length, Goring made 
 
192 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 out two gigs, or long boats, with ten figures in each, 
 beside the coxswain. They were towing the turf 
 barge, which was loaded to the gunwale, and were 
 advancing slowly, in consequence. It was an un- 
 wieldy tub, which would not steer, and he could hear 
 them cursing it. The minutes were Hke hours. 
 Nothing tries men's courage more than King in am- 
 bush, and the hearts of the Dunboy men were in their 
 throats. As the leading boat came into the mouth of 
 the cove, the crew lay upon their oars, to see which 
 way they were to turn — and Goring observed with 
 satisfaction that they were strangers to the place— 
 or at least were imperfectly acquainted with it. 
 Shouts were raised on shore to direct them. They 
 had just begun to move again, dragging at the weight 
 behind, when they were startled by a sharp challenge, 
 at a few fathoms' distance. 
 
 " What boats are those ? " said a voice, which 
 seemed to come from directly above their heads. 
 
 " What is tnat to you, whoever }'ou are ? " answered 
 the coxswain, looking sharply up, and supposing that 
 some one from the land had come out on the water 
 and was playing the fool. But he saw his mistake in 
 a moment. 
 
 " Your arms, men ! " he cried. " Here is treachery." 
 The oars were dropped, and there was a clash of 
 iron, as each hand caught the musket that was 
 nearest. 
 
 "What boats are those?" said the voice again. 
 " Speak, or we fire." 
 
 The coxswain answered with a pistol shot, aimed 
 in the direction from which the sound came, and the 
 ball struck a stone which he had mistaken for the 
 speaker's cap. A dozen rifles flashed in reply, from 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 19: 
 
 the crannies of the reef. With a loud cry, four of the 
 Doutelles men reeled on their seats, and rolled over into 
 the bottom of the boat ; while another ball had passed 
 through the coxswain's arm. Attacked thus suddenly 
 by invisible assailants, of whose number they could 
 form no conjecture, they concluded that the Iri^h had 
 betrayed them, and that they had fallen into a trap. 
 They could not fl}^ for they were encumbered with 
 the barge. They would have backed out into the 
 open water, but they dropped upon the boat behind 
 them and fouled the oars, and all was at once con- 
 fusion. A second volley into the entangled mass was 
 answered by fresh shrieks, which showed how the 
 shots were telling. Wild yells rose from the beach. 
 A hundred dark figures came rushing down over the 
 shingle, firing guns with as much danger to friend as 
 foe. Happily, the Irish peasantry, howe\xr fond of 
 quarrels which could be fought out with sticks and 
 stones, and, however brave they might be in regular 
 service, seldom showed an inclination, in their own 
 homes, for close quarters with deadlier weapons. One 
 man only— it was the young de Chaumont— rushed 
 round to the farther side of the cove, plunged into the 
 water and swam off to join his struggling comrades. 
 The rest ran frantically up and down, whooping like 
 savages, and that was all. 
 
 Neither from them nor from the boats had Goring 
 now any attack to fear. His real danger was from 
 the Doutelle. Morty Sullivan comprehended in a 
 moment the whole situation. The news of the 
 intended landing had in some way got abroad, and 
 the coastguard at Dunboy had heard of it. To 
 lower his remaining boat and to fly to the help of his 
 people was his instant impulse. But the fates were 
 
 13 
 
194 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOV. 
 
 against him that night. The boat was on deck under 
 repair. He had still men enough in plent\% but the 
 best seamen were away in the two gigs, and those 
 that were left were awkward and unhandy. When 
 the boat was brought at last over the side, the after- 
 tackle was let go with a run, and she fell stern fore- 
 most into the water and filled. The rattle of the rifles 
 and the cries of his own people told meanwhile how 
 unequally the struggle w^as going on. There was 
 now but one thing for Morty to do. The flashes 
 showed him where the coastguard were lying. He 
 brought his broadside to bear, and sent nine-pound 
 shot flying about their ears, making the mountains 
 echo to the roar of his artillery. Seldom or never 
 had such a sound disturbed that quiet harbour. 
 The shot struck the stones and sent the splinters 
 flying. The Colonel's men dropped into the boats 
 behind the outer ridge, and were untouched ; but 
 under co\'er of such a fire the smugglers' boats 
 miorht have extricated themselves and renewed the 
 fight to more advantage but for a still more untoward 
 accident. The reef lay in a line 'between the vessel 
 and the landing-place at the bottom of the cove. 
 Shot after shot, flying high, fell among the crowd 
 on the shore. The horses plunged and started off 
 with their carts. Some were hit, and their dying 
 screams struck fresh panic into the people, who fled 
 in all directions. Morty found his mistake and 
 stopped the fire, but he could do no more to help 
 his own men. 
 
 He guessed instinctively that he had been again 
 baffled by his old enemy. More bitterly than ever he 
 swore that one day he would have his revenge. But 
 swearing would not help him now, For all that he 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOV. iQS 
 
 could tell, Goring might have a hundred men with 
 him. Anyway, the chance was gone of landing the 
 cargo that night. The Doiitelle could not move, for 
 not a breath of air was stirring. She might herself 
 be attacked next, and to prevent worse he sent up a 
 signal rocket for the boats to return to the vessel. 
 
 It was easier, however, for him to order than for 
 them to obey. They could not leave the barge with 
 its precious cargo as a prize to the coastguard ; yet 
 they could not move it and fight at the same time, 
 which they would have to do if they were pursued. 
 The Colonel's rifles had been silenced for the moment 
 by the Doiitelle s guns ; but de Chaumont, when he 
 climbed on board the boats, found that three men had 
 been killed outright, and seven or eight badly 
 wounded. He used the respite to dispose of these 
 most conveniently, and to set the rest to their oars to 
 tow the barge off. So savage they were that they 
 would have left it to its fate, dashed in, and grappled 
 with their assailants ; but Morty's signal told them 
 that they were wanted on the ship, and they began 
 sullenly to struggle back as best they could. 
 
 Goring, however, did not mean to let his prey 
 escape so easily. The night was absolutely still. The 
 Doiitelle would have to lie still till the wind rose. 
 Clearly enough she had no other available boat. If 
 she had they would have heard of it. Fortune so far 
 had eminently favoured him. His men were fresh and 
 untouched, and eager to complete a capture which, 
 besides the credit, would bring them each a handsome 
 bag of prize money. Instantly, therefore, that they 
 saw the smugglers retreating, they dashed out after 
 them, and in fifty strokes were alongside the turf 
 boat. The smugglers, to gain freedom of movement, 
 
 13* 
 
196 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 had to drop their tow Hne. Although outnumbered 
 and encumbered with their wounded, they turned 
 gallantl}' on their pursuers. The boats closed, and 
 dark as it was there was light enough to fight by. 
 Pistols, cutlasses, handspikes, stretchers, anything that 
 came to hand, were snatched up on both sides, and 
 used as occasion offered. With the clashing of steel 
 and the rattle of shot were mixed cries and curses, 
 English, Irish, French and Spanish, from the motley 
 desperadoes who formed Morty's company. If they 
 had few other virtues, they were brave as tigers. A 
 party of the coastguard had taken possession of the 
 barge. Half-a-dozen of the smugglers, with de 
 Chaumont at their head, leapt on board and drove 
 them off. The flashing of the pistols and the shouts 
 of the combatants told their own tale to Morty ; but 
 he dared not use his guns by firing into a black mass 
 where friend and enemy were locked together, and he 
 could onl\- pace his deck in fury. The fight was hand to 
 hand. Many were hurt on both sides, but in so close a 
 struggle shots were wild and cutlasses were entangled, 
 and few blows struck home. Some grappled with 
 each other, fell overboard, and were rescued by their 
 friends. Again and again the cargo boat was 
 carried with a rush ; again and again it was re- 
 covered, and the assailants forced back. At length 
 superior numbers and the solid courage of the Dun- 
 boy men told decisivel}'. The privateer's crew were 
 embarrassed by their wounded comrades, whom they 
 were trampling to death. They found that they 
 would be either taken or killed themsehes unless 
 they could retreat under the guns of their vessel. 
 The barge and its contents would have to be aban- 
 doned to its fate. 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 197 
 
 De Chaumont was the last to leave it. Slightly 
 made, but agile as a panther, he had sustained the 
 courage of his men to the last moment. Ordering 
 them to clear the boats of the inclce, he stood himself 
 alone against the whole force of the attack, till he 
 saw that they had extricated themselves. Then 
 flashing his pistol at the match of a hand grenade, 
 which he picked up to use at the last extremity, and 
 rolling it down between the powder barrels, he sprang 
 overboard, dived under the pike thrusts which were 
 aimed at him, and joined his companions. The 
 engineer of the mines, who was in the nearest boat, 
 saw his action, and understood the meaning of it. 
 He leapt into the barge either to extinguish the shell 
 before it could burst, or hurl it into the sea. But it 
 lay flickering where he could not reach it without 
 shifting the barrels, and for this there was no time. 
 To linger would be destruction, not to himself only, 
 but to half his comrades, who were fastening ropes 
 to the prize which they supposed to be their 
 own. 
 
 He darted back, shoved off the boat to which he 
 belonged with a desperate effort, and called to the 
 others to save themselves. They were barely clear 
 when the grenade burst and blew in the head of the 
 nearest powder cask. The flash of the explosion illu- 
 minated the whole harbour of Glengariff The rocks, 
 the woods, the old castle, the spars and hull of the 
 anchored vessel, even the nearest mountains, were 
 lighted up with the momentary splendour. Morty's 
 men believed for the instant that the Coastguard 
 and their commander had been destroyed ; and they 
 sent up a shout of triumph. The cry was answered 
 by a defiance as loud as their own. But the prize was 
 
igS THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 gone. The barge and all that it contained had been 
 blown to atoms. 
 
 What harm had been done to their party they 
 could not immediately tell. They were bewildered 
 and dazzled. After the sudden blaze the darkness 
 was thicker than before, as the smoke settled down 
 upon the water. When it cleared the engineer's boat 
 was found to have been sto\'e in, and her crew to be 
 in the water, holding on to the broken timbers. In 
 the other boat a man had been stunned by a splinter, 
 and the Colonel was hurt in the leg. Several others 
 had been wounded in the fight, but no one had been 
 killed, and this was the extent of their loss. 
 
 There would be no prize-money, but they had done 
 their duty, and saved the neighbourhood from an im- 
 minent danger. 
 
 Taking the men from the lost boat into the two 
 others, they gave a parting English cheer, and pulled 
 away out of gunshot from the Douteile, which happih' 
 for them was chained to her place by the stillness of 
 the night. 
 
 The tide was now flowing in the bay, and even if 
 the wind rose, unless with a favourable slant, she 
 would be unable to make her way to the open sea 
 before it turned. The Dunboy boats rowed home 
 in the backwater under the land. Goring gave silent 
 thanks to his Master, who had carried him success- 
 fully through so perilous an adventure — silent, be- 
 cause he rarely and reluctantly put his thoughts on 
 such occasions into words. 
 
 More than ever he felt how desperate the conflict 
 was in which he was engaged with the disordered ele- 
 ments of the country. More than ever he felt the un- 
 fairness of leaving him to fight such a battle on his 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF I) UN BOY. 199 
 
 own resources. But the character of his creed came 
 to his help. Everything was as God had ordered and 
 could not be otherwise. He was grateful for having 
 been allowed to accomplish a piece of excellent ser- 
 vice. All had worked together by a clear arrange- 
 ment of Providence. If he had not been waylaid on 
 his way home from Kilmakilloge, he would not have 
 witnessed the night-drill on the mountains. Now if 
 only his messenger had reached the Admiral, and if 
 the Admiral acted promptly in sending round a frigate, 
 there might be an end to the cruising of the Doutelle. 
 Under the most favourable circumstances she could 
 hardly be clear of the bay till the following noon. 
 
 It will be seen that in this expectation Goring was 
 not entirely mistaken. So reflecting, and without 
 further accident, he returned to Dunboy by sunrise, 
 and ordering a strict watch to be kept for the ap- 
 pearance of the privateer, and a strong body of fresh 
 men to remain under arms in case the smugglers 
 should try to revenge themselves by an attack on the 
 settlement, he went to the rest which he so sorely 
 needed. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Despotic as was the authority of the chief on board 
 a privateer or corsair, permitted as he was to meet the 
 first symptoms of mutiny or insolence with a pistol- 
 shot, or a rope from the yard-arm, his power rested 
 on his personal qualities and the consent and allow- 
 ance of the general crew. Let a doubt, either of 
 his ability or even his good fortune, once find an 
 entrance among them, and the bond that held them 
 
200 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 together was dissolved. The crew of th^Doutelle had 
 been selected by Blake out of the many that had 
 offered themselves on the strength of the reputation 
 of the vessel and her commander. But in this respect 
 they were like the rest of their sort. They wanted 
 plunder, and they expected to get it. They ex- 
 pected success, and would not be satisfied with 
 failure. 
 
 Hitherto they had been well enough pleased with 
 Morty, They thought him too distant, and too much 
 of a fine gentleman, but he had done a handsome 
 month's work with them off the Channel, and the Irish 
 expedition they had put up with as an episode on 
 their way to the West Indies. But the affair at 
 Derreen, and their defeat at Glengariff had shaken 
 their confidence altogether. The duel, when they 
 heard that it was coming off, had been a delight to 
 them. They had assumed, as a matter of course, that 
 their own captain, who could take a sixpence from 
 between the fingers of either of them at twenty paces, 
 with a pistol, would come out of it triumphantly, or 
 that if he failed they would be allowed their share of 
 the sport. They could not conceal from themseh'es 
 that he had been beaten with dramatic completeness, 
 and that he had submitted to defeat. He had not 
 been wanting in courage — far from that — but he had 
 been outdone, and had come out of the thing with 
 ridicule. The last affair was more serious. In the 
 first place he must have trusted in some one who had 
 betrayed him. They had been allowed to fall into 
 ambuscade. Three of them had been killed on the 
 spot. Two more had died after they had been brought 
 on board, and ten or twehe had been wounded. They 
 had done their utmost. The}' had fought desperately. 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 201 
 
 and they had suffered as they had done only through 
 bad management. They had been attacked by a 
 party who were not half the number of the Don tellers 
 company, and the plans had been so ill laid that their 
 comrades left on board had to look on helplessly 
 while the rest were shot down. They could have 
 borne to be foiled in an enterprise which had pith 
 and marrow in it. To have been baffled, and baffled 
 at such a cost, in an attempt to land a cargo, might 
 make the dullest of them doubt the quality of their 
 commander. 
 
 As long as the calm continued the Dotitelle w^as 
 fixed to her anchorage. Mort}- Sullivan, thinking 
 nothing of the disaffection of the crew^ but sore and 
 exasperated, shut himself in his cabin, leaving the 
 vessel in charge of Council and de Chaumont, with 
 orders to see to the wounded and to cret under weicfh 
 with the first sign of wind. Day broke at last. A 
 few uncertain cats'-paw^s w^ere rippling about the 
 water. The smoke from a cabin on the land was 
 rising straight in the morning air, but signs were 
 about w^hich, to an experienced seaman, showed that 
 the stillness would be of short duration. The swell 
 from the ocean which had been moaning round the 
 rocks the night before, w^as now breaking in great 
 sheets of foam over the low point at the harbour 
 mouth, an infallible symptom that a gale was blowing 
 in the Atlantic, and was on its way in from the sea. 
 The rocks never roared as they were roaring then 
 without a meaning, and wild w^eather w^ould be on 
 them before many hours w-ere past. Unless they 
 were to remain in shelter where they were and run 
 the chance of being found there by a king's ship, not 
 a moment was to be lost in clearing out. If the wind 
 
202 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 came from the westward, as it seemed likely to do, 
 while they where still inside Mizen Head, the 
 Doutelle herself, spite of her weatherly qualities, 
 would be unable to work out of the bay. 
 
 The orders were given to set the canvas and get 
 the anchor in. Instead of obeying the men stood at 
 their quarters without moving, and the boatswain, a 
 Creole from Martinique, desired to speak with the 
 captain. Morty was ill to deal with when the black 
 fit was on him. Connell and de Chaumont were 
 both favourites with the company. They called the 
 whole crew aft to hear what they had to sa\-. The 
 boatswain spoke for the rest. 
 
 There was a storm brewing up, he said. The 
 blindest eye could see that. If a gale came on they 
 would be on a lee shore on the most dangerous coast 
 in the world. Their present anchorage was safe and 
 landlocked. The people on shore, as far as they could 
 see, were well-disposed. They had their many 
 wounded, to whom, if they were caught in a tempest, 
 it would be impossible to pay proper attention, but 
 chiefly and essentiall\', and this was the real objection, 
 they had their dead comrades to bury. There was 
 ill luck in going to sea with dead men on board, and 
 they would not throw the bodies o\erboard when 
 there was a Catholic burial-ground within a morning's 
 walk, where they could be laid in consecrated soil, 
 with a priest to pray their souls out of purgatory. 
 The captain could not expect it of them, much less 
 demand it. 
 
 The tone was respectful, the language reasonable, 
 the whole company unanimous. Threats would be 
 useless, and violence fatal, for mutiny was in their 
 eyes if their demand was not complied with, and to 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 20' 
 
 have called up Morty would have probably provoked 
 a catastrophe. 
 
 Quietly, and expressing the strongest sympathy 
 with them, Connell explained, on the other hand, the 
 exact particulars of their situation. They were em- 
 bayed in a deep estuary, from which, if the wind came 
 heavily from the west, they could not work out. At 
 that moment, however, he showed, pointing overhead, 
 that the clouds were coming up from the south-west 
 and by south. With the wind at this quarter they 
 could hold their course down the bay, if they started 
 immediately, and make an offing before the worst of 
 the gale came on. The reason for desiring to be off 
 so hastily was merely this. They had cause to suppose 
 that their being on the coast was known at Cork and 
 that the same south-west wind would probably bring 
 some frigate in search of them. If they thought that 
 in extremity they could escape on shore and seek for 
 shelter among the Irish, he was obliged to tell them, 
 as an Irishman himself, that the sympathy of the 
 people would be found on the strongest side, and 
 that every one of them would be given up and 
 shot or hanged. Their care for the dead did them 
 honour, but if they could clear away from the 
 shore that afternoon they would be at Nantes 
 three days later, and could bury them in their own 
 land. 
 
 " A pretty set of cowardly wretches we have been 
 risking the ship and our own necks for, Mr. Connell, 
 if you are telling us the truth about your countrymen," 
 said the boatswain, " but it is a fact, anyway, about 
 the wind. We have lost faith in the captain, we tell 
 you plainly. None but a fool would have brought us 
 into such a situation. He has gone wrong on the 
 
204 THE TJVO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 brain, but if you and AI. de Chaumont, there, will take 
 the command " 
 
 " Don't speak of ' Ifs,' " Connell said. " You may 
 cut us in pieces before we will let you lift a hand 
 against the captain. I promise }'ou this only, that you 
 shall hav'e your orders from me till you ask him your- 
 self to take the command of ye again. If all goes well, 
 1 will bring )'ou into Nantes before four days are out, 
 and then you can do what you will. But there is no 
 safety for you but in immediate departure." 
 
 The possible arrival of a ship of war was a new 
 feature of the case to most of them. They had no 
 ambition to be hanged, and if they persisted in delay- 
 ing, it was a fate which was by no means impossible. 
 After a conversation among themselves they sulkily 
 returned to their duty. The anchor was weighed. 
 They towed the vessel off with their boats till they 
 were clear of the harbour, and then, setting every 
 stitch of canvas, down to their lightest studding-sail, 
 the}^ stood, closehauled, down the bay. 
 
 Morty came on deck as they passed off Dun- 
 boy. He walked slowl}^ to and fro, watching the 
 spot which had been torn from his ancestors because 
 they had been true to their country and their creed. 
 He said nothing. He must have been aware by this 
 time of the temper of his company, but he did not 
 choose to notice it. He merely observed that they were 
 on their right course, and retired again to his cabin. 
 By the evening the wind, which had stood all day at 
 south-west, drew into the west, and then to a point 
 north ; the Doit telle was bearing for Mizen Head, 
 they counted that, when clear of it, she would have 
 a free course to the eastward; but for this they 
 required a steady breeze, and the wind, so far from 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 205 
 
 being steady, blew only in occasional puffs with in- 
 tervals of absolute calm. 
 
 The sea, meanwhile, grew higher every moment, 
 and there is no point on the shores of the British 
 Islands where, in such weather, there are higher or 
 uglier waves than those which break on the headlands 
 at the mouth of Bantry Bay. They sweep in, long, 
 massive and unbroken, from the deep waters of the 
 Atlantic till they reach the submerged rocks, the 
 remnants of the abrasions of millions of years, which 
 fringe the south-western Irish coast. There, checked 
 in their course, they tower up and curl and break, 
 take new directions, and propagate themselves in fresh 
 curves, then again cross and thwart each other, and 
 make the bays boil and heave as if the earth's crust 
 was broken through below them, and steam was rush- 
 ing up through a thousand craters. 
 
 When the gale which generates all this tumult is in 
 force, a vessel driving through it has at least steerage 
 way, can govern her own movements, and can hope to 
 work out of it. But there are times, before and after 
 a storm, when the wind fails, and the weaves, wantoning 
 at their own pleasure, are more distracted and dis- 
 tracting than ever. 
 
 It was in one of these windless intervals that the 
 Doutelle found herself, now rolling helpless with her 
 canvas flapping, now caught by a sudden squall on 
 the crest of a great roller when her helm had lost all 
 power. The sun went down green into the sea. The 
 night was near upon them, and with the last of the 
 light they perceived that they were losing the way 
 that they had made, and were rolling in to leeward. 
 It was too late (even if they could have got their 
 vessel under command) to put back into Bantry Ba\', 
 
2o6 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY 
 
 for they were too far to the southward. The crew 
 clustered in angry groups under the buhvarks Their 
 fears had proved true. The spirits of their own dead, 
 who ought to have been sleeping in their graves, were 
 abroad in the storm ; and as they shuddered and 
 muttered, the great green billows would come crash- 
 ing over and breaking on the deck, and sending tons 
 of water rushing from stem to stern. At last the 
 wind came, came like a West Indian hurricane, 
 breaking off the crests of the billows and lashing 
 them into foam. The ship's canvas had been re- 
 duced to receive the stroke of the gale. The main- 
 sail had been reefed down to a sixth of its size. A 
 staysail and a storm jib was all that was showing 
 forward. The staysail flew to ribands with a crack 
 like a gunshot, but Mr. Blake's ropes were sound and 
 the rest held. After one reel, as if she was going 
 under and for ever, the Doutelle rose, shook herself 
 like a sea bird, flew into the wind, and there she la}', 
 rising and falling in the swell, with the storm howling 
 among her spars, but safe now, if only she had suffi- 
 cient sea room, and was not driven in upon the shore. 
 In Morty's seamanship, at any rate, there was un- 
 bounded confidence. With the first distress he had 
 resumed the command. The immediate danger was 
 over, but the position was extremely precarious, and 
 the men were gloomy and discontented. What was 
 to be done next ? Morty's opinion was strong as ever 
 to hold on. No frigate would be out looking for 
 them in such weather. They ought, therefore, to 
 make the best of it to get away. The vessel was 
 sound and seaworth^^ They could lie to through the 
 night and crawl off in the morning. So far they were 
 in deep water, and the storm might do its worst. 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 207 
 
 But there was no crawling off from comrades' 
 ghosts. Throw the bodies overboard they dared not, 
 while they were all assured that the presence of them 
 on board had brought the gale ; and they demanded 
 to know whether there was or was not any harbour 
 now under their lee where they could run. Morty 
 could not deny that Crookhaven was but a few miles 
 from them, that they could approach it in daylight 
 without risk even in the present weather ; that when 
 they were inside they would be as well protected 
 as they had been at Glengariff, while their presence 
 there could not be detected by any one passing out- 
 side. There was no likelihood either that any force 
 would be stationed there who would interfere with 
 them. Probably there would be no coast-guardsmen 
 at all, or none that would ask questions. Connell 
 knew the place, so did Morty, so did several of the 
 crew, and all those who had seen it were clamorous 
 to go in. It was madness to struggle on against an 
 Autumn hurricane with a port accessible so close. 
 » Wilder and wilder grew the night. It was im- 
 possible to get any way upon the Doutellc. She 
 would have been instantly swamped had they tried. 
 Her only security was to lie head to wind, and in that 
 position slowly but surely drift to leeward. In the 
 whole ship's company there was but one exception to 
 the opinion that with the first streak of dawn they must 
 make for Crookhaven. That exception was the captain. 
 Colonel Goring had threatened to bring a ship from 
 Cork upon him ; Colonel Goring had gained the ad- 
 vantage on every occasion when they had encoun- 
 tered ; and his ill-luck was perhaps not yet exhausted. 
 Ship, canvas, cordage, all were sound. The only fear 
 was from the English cruisers ; and as long as the 
 
2c8 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUX BOY. 
 
 storm lasted no cruiser would leave its moorings. He 
 advised, therefore, that they should make the best of 
 their time while the coast was clear. But he could per- 
 suade no one to agree with him ; it was new for one 
 usually so daring to be frightened at an English man- 
 of-war ; they had come and gone; they had been 
 chased, and had laughed at pursuit. Bantry Bay was 
 a cul-de-sac from which it might be impossible to 
 escape, but Crookhaven was on the ocean, and when 
 the weather allowed an enemy's ship to come in 
 search of them, it would equally permit them to 
 clear awa}'. To neglect a harbour of refuge in a 
 tempest from a hypothetical danger of that kind was 
 so unlike the confidence of Morty Sullivan that they 
 thought again that his nerve had been overset. The 
 seas were still washing o\er the bulwarks. Five 
 bodies sewn in their hammocks lay below, waiting 
 for burial. The wounded were suffering from the 
 plunging of the vessel. Ever\- single man was for 
 running in. Even his two officers could not under- 
 stand his obstinacy. To persist would, he saw, be 
 useless. The crew would take the ship from him, and 
 perhaps do worse. Since go in the}' would, he accepted 
 their decision, and himself took the helm to pilot them 
 through the channel at the entrance. No one knew 
 it better than he. Every creek and corner from Kin- 
 sale to Dingle had been familiar to him in the expedi- 
 tions in which he had been engaged in his boyhood. 
 
 As the night wore on the storm swept the clouds 
 off the sky and the outlines of the land became 
 gradually visible. As soon as they could see their 
 way the Doiitclle was brought round before the wind ; 
 she flew in on the crests of the seas — she shook her- 
 self into order as she smoothed her water under the 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 209 
 
 shelter of Mizen Head ; and before daylight had 
 fairh^ established itself the scanty inhabitants of 
 Crookhaven when they rose to light their turf fires in 
 the morning, saw a strange vessel ^\•ith French colours 
 riding quietly at anchor, the sole occupant of 
 their secluaed haven. Her guns were concealed 
 sufficiently to hide them from those who did not 
 desire to see them. The visit of a French trader, 
 though a breach of the Navigation Laws, was always 
 welcome. Usuall}- it meant brandy, it meant 
 tobacco ; it meant a market for the woolpacks and 
 the salt fish. If the Doutelle had nothing to sell or 
 buy, the hospitalities of the place were not the less 
 freeh' offered. Had an English force been within 
 reach, it is possible that they would have sent word of 
 their guest, and might even have lent a hand in her 
 capture. But so far as feeling went, and so long as 
 nothing was to be gained by turning against them, 
 the French were better liked than the English. The 
 ro\-ers were open-handed, and spent their money 
 freel}', and thus had full liberty to remain in the land- 
 locked harbour till the storm abated, while ever}-thing 
 which the people could do for them was freeh' at 
 their command. A priest was found who had been 
 educated in France, and with his help the poor fellows 
 who had been shot at Glengariff had honourable 
 burial within the walls of an ancient abbe}-, their 
 comrades firing volle}-s over their graves. When this 
 solemn dut\- was discharged, and the hurts of the sur- 
 vivors looked to and dressed, there was still the Doutelle 
 herself to be overhauled, boats repaired, broken rigging 
 re-spliced, and the hundred damages made good which 
 always grow out of a gale. In these occupations two 
 days passed away, and nothing had appeared to dis- 
 
 14 
 
2id THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOV. 
 
 turb or alarm them. On the land side no hint of 
 their presence had got abroad. No official presented 
 himself to learn who they were or whence they came. 
 Seawards, not a sail was visible from the highest 
 point of the barrier which covers the haven from the 
 ocean. 
 
 On the second evening the weather began to take 
 up. The wind fell to a moderate breeze, and the sea 
 went down rapidly, showing that the gale was no 
 longer blowing in the Atlantic. Morty, still impatient 
 of delay, urged an immediate start ; but his alarms had 
 hitherto proved groundless ; the horizon at sunset had 
 been absolutely clear, only sky and water, and besides 
 them nothing ; they would have time enough in the 
 morning ; if the worst came and they were chased, 
 what had they to fear ? /\s long as the sea was 
 smooth, they need not fear the fastest cruiser that 
 ever came out of Portsmouth Harbour ! 
 
 Thus sunrise found them still at anchor, but every- 
 thing ready for a start. Their canvas was up. They 
 had their whole mainsail set, foresail reefed, and jib- 
 boom housed, on account of the swell, which, though 
 no longer vicious was still considerable, large staysail, 
 and storm jib ready to hoist when the anchor should 
 be off the ground — fair cruising costume, suited to 
 weather not yet completely settled. The Doutelle 
 herself had been smartened up, her decks clean and 
 white as in a man-of-war, the guns scoured bright, 
 the brass binnacles — the brass-work everywhere — 
 shining as if they were silver. They expected to be 
 in the Loire in fifty hours, and the privateers on 
 coming into port always made a point of appearing in 
 the same condition as their rivals in the regular 
 service 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 211 
 
 The morning was brilliant. The wind, having been 
 in the north in the night, had fallen back in the morn- 
 ing to the west. But the sky was cloudless. The ba}' 
 was flecked with green and white as the level rays of 
 the sun shone through the curling crests of the still 
 breaking waves. A few country boats followed them 
 to the harbour's mouth, to see them off and wish them 
 " good luck and God speed." They stood out 
 leisurely under the land, Morty himself having re- 
 covered his spirits when the vessel was under way, 
 and almost wondering at the weakness, as he now 
 deemed it, which he had allowed to overcome him. 
 The deck of the Doiitelle was flush fore and aft, with 
 a clean walk from end to end between the guns. 
 Abaft the mainmast it was sacred to the officers. 
 Forward, the men were laughing and singing, their 
 comrades now disposed of, bodies and spirits alike, 
 themselves looking forward to the black girls in the 
 Tortugas, and the wild life of licensed plunder which 
 they were soon to be enjoying in the West Indies. 
 One doubt they still had, indeed, whether Morty 
 Sullivan was a commander to their taste. They 
 would have preferred some one who ^^'as less of a 
 gentleman and luckier or more skilful in his enter- 
 prises ; while Morty, on his side, after his experience 
 of the condition of a privateer captain's tenure, felt 
 entirely uncertain what his own course would be after 
 reaching the Loire. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 The steward was getting breakfast ready in the 
 cabin. The three officers were pacing the deck over 
 his head, Morty Sullivan absorbed in thought and 
 saying little. A seaman had been sent aloft to secure 
 
 14* 
 
212 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 a loose end of rope which had been left flying, and 
 had finished his work and begun to descend, when his 
 eye seemed to be caught by some object which he 
 could not clearly make out. Steadying himself with 
 an arm round the topmast, and with the other hand 
 shading the light from his eyes, he looked attentively 
 for a minute or two, and then hastily descending he 
 came aft, touched his cap, and said, " There is a sail 
 on the horizon, sir, bearing S.S.E. I thought it might 
 be the Fastnct Rock when I first observed it, but I 
 saw the Fastnet distinct and inside. She is hull down, 
 sir," he continued, as Morty looked and made out 
 nothing, " only her spars and upper canvas showing ; 
 but a ship it is, and, I think, a large one." 
 
 A ship might mean a New England trader, some- 
 thing in their own line of business, to put them in 
 heart again after their misadventures. Snatching a 
 spy glass from a rack, Morty sprang up the shrouds, 
 twisted a leg in the main-rigging to secure himself, 
 and steadily and anxiously studied the object which 
 the seaman had described. Apparently he complete!}' 
 satisfied himself, for he slid down calmly and 
 deliberately, and rejoined his officers. The weary 
 listless look had gone out of his face. Mouth and 
 eyes were set and firm, with a cynical smile in them. 
 "It is as I expected," he said. *' My evil genius 
 intended to have it so. Well, we will see who is the 
 strongest. There is an English frigate bearing 
 directly down upon us. If she sees us, as of course 
 she has or will, we shall be talking to each other in 
 an hour or two. So much the better. There will be 
 work at last fit for a gentleman." 
 
 Fighting is the privateer's man's business, but he 
 fights only when he cannot help it with an antagonist 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 213 
 
 bigger than himself. Connell took the glass out of 
 Morty's hand, went aloft, and took a long gaze. " It 
 is a ship, certainl)%" he said, when he returned to the 
 deck, " and to appearance she is heading in towards us, 
 but she is twelve miles from us at least, and for all 
 I can see she may be a merchantman." 
 
 " My dear Connell," said Morty, " no merchantman 
 ever carried yards so broad as yonder vessel, or set 
 up so taut and square. Trust me to know an English 
 man-of-war when I see her. I have the list below of 
 the frigates at Cork, and if this is the Alolits, as I 
 think likely, she is the fastest craft we have yet tried 
 our speed against. We are in for a fine race, any way, 
 and perhaps for something besides. She is rated 
 for thirty-eight guns, and I believe she carries forty ; 
 they are all small nine-pounders like ours ; but we 
 have a lively morning's work before us." 
 
 " I hope that for once, sir, you are mistaken," said 
 Connell, " but if it be as you say, the dog need not jump 
 down the leopard's throat. We can hardly make her 
 out against the sky line, and she cannot yet have seen 
 us with the mountains right behind us. If we hold 
 on as we are we shall run straight into her course. 
 We have the sea open to us. Why not bear away 
 under the shore behind Cape Clear Island ? She will 
 never follow us among those rocks." 
 
 " For the best of all possible reasons we can do 
 nothing of the kind, my friend. As the wind stands 
 she could cut us off if she saw us try it, and they 
 have as good eyes as we have. See us she must 
 before we could slip away between her and the land ; 
 even if we did get by, we should have no chance w'xXh. 
 her at all running free. We can beat her, I believe, 
 working to windward, and that is what I mean to 
 
214 ^/^^-'' ^'^^'<^^ CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 try. That is," he said, scornfully, " if it pleases the 
 ship's compaii}' to be commanded by me in this 
 business. It is for them, I suppose, to choose." 
 
 He blew his whistle. " Call the men aft," he said 
 to the boatswain. " I will soon know." 
 
 They were all on deck watching the stranger. 
 
 " My men," said Morty to them. " You have ill 
 liked the work we have been after since we came on 
 this coast. I have liked it ill myself, and I don't 
 blame you for that. We may have better da}'S before 
 us — I trust we have ; but meanwhile we ha\'e a morn- 
 ing's work cut out for us \\diich \\\\\ \.xy what we 
 are made of; a man-of-war from Cork is bear- 
 ing down upon us as fast as a ten-knot breeze 
 can bring her along. I thought it might be so, and 
 for this reason I was unwilling to stay at Crook- 
 haven. You were not satisfied. You had your way, 
 and here she is. She carries twice as many guns as 
 we do, and three times as many men. You have out- 
 sailed these cruisers before, and you think you can do 
 it again. On one point of sailing, I believe } ou can ; 
 but I must understand first if you mean to obey my 
 orders." 
 
 The desperate company that formed the crew of 
 the Doutelle might be described loosely as devils ; but 
 ready as they were to fight and fall if driven into a 
 corner without flinching, they were not, as devils are 
 said to be, indifferent whether they lost their lives or 
 kept them. They were in a scrape, and a scrape of 
 their own making. They were willing enough to let 
 Morty or any other person get them out of it, but 
 they had not yet taken in the actual danger in which 
 they were. They had never \'et met a ship that 
 could catch the Doutelle in a stern chase. Like 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 215 
 
 Connell, they were for bearing away under Cape 
 Clear, and trying what speed would do for them. 
 
 Morty, for answer, spread a chart on the roof of the 
 companion. The wind was westerly, with half a point 
 to the north. They were standing out close-hauled 
 from Crookhaven, intending, after weathering the 
 Fastnet Rock outside Cape Clear, to ease away S.S.E. 
 on their course home. The frigate lay exactly in 
 their track, and the two vessels were approaching on 
 opposite tacks. But the frigate had the advantage of 
 the situation. If the Doiitelle tried to pass through 
 the sound behind Cape Clear Island, she would find 
 the frigate waiting for her as she came out. To keep 
 in shore among the rocks and islands would have 
 been dangerous in a calm, and certain destruction in 
 the swell which still continued. The chance of escape, 
 in Morty's opinion, was in the opposite direction round 
 Dursey Head and the Bull and Calf Rocks. Once 
 there, the Doiitelle would have open water, and a free 
 course for her own sailing qualities. But to weather 
 Dursey Head, as the wind stood, she must make an 
 offing of six or seven miles, and this she could hardly 
 hope to do without coming under the frigate's guns. 
 
 Whatever other doubts might have been entertained 
 about Morty Sullivan's qualifications, there were none 
 about his seamanship. Every man in the ship's com- 
 pany was easily assured that what he said about the 
 vessel's capabilities was necessarily true. The daring 
 character of the plan which he proposed was infectious 
 and touched and roused their spirits. If there had 
 been fault, this time the fault was theirs, not his. " You 
 see, my men," he said, " we gave her the chance to 
 find us, and she has taken it. We are not cowards to 
 be frightened at the chance of a broadside. The 
 
2i6 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 boldest course is the safest. A shot or two will warm 
 us this cold morning. If she wings us, well, we are 
 provided for. If they take us, they will hang us all, 
 so we will ha\'e a rocket ready to light in the powder 
 magazine. But we have as good a chance of winging 
 her, so now to w^ork. We can trust the rigging. Set 
 everything that she will carry. Drive her through it, 
 and let us see what she can do. Get the cartridge 
 boxes up, and see all clear. Keep the guns lashed 
 but ready when we want them, and let the aftermost 
 starboard gun be trained over the stern. You will do 
 your duty all of you. I see it in your eyes." 
 
 With a wild cheer for the captain, the men flew 
 about their different duties. Morty turned to Connell 
 and de Chaumont. '' Gentlemen, breakfast has been 
 waiting all this time. It is ill fighting on an empty 
 stomach. By the time we have finished we shall see 
 better what our friend here means to be after." 
 
 Twenty minutes later, when they came on deck 
 again, the aspect of matters was considerably clearer. 
 In the first place, any doubt which might ha\'e re- 
 mained, as to the character of the vessel outside, was 
 removed once for all. Morty had judged her rightly 
 at first sight. She was a long, low, powerful frigate, 
 pierced for sixteen guns on a side, with bow and stern 
 chasers. Her lofty spars were struck on account of 
 the weather. She was taking things eas}% with her 
 lower canvas, and her topsails reefed, but the pace 
 at \\'hich she was coming down sho\\'ed what her 
 speed would be, if she chose to exert herself The 
 sea was rising again, and the wind freshening. She 
 lay gracefully over as the squalls struck her, till her 
 mainyard almost touched the water, and the white 
 paint upon her bottom glittered in the morning sun. 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 217 
 
 She seemed herself Hke a thing aHve, so Hghtly and 
 airily she lifted over the swell, and sent the foam in 
 showers from off her bows. Morty himself, ugly 
 customer as she was likely to prove, could not refuse 
 his admiration for the most beautiful vessel of the 
 kind which he had ever seen. 
 
 The frigate was by this time about five miles west 
 of the Fastnet Rock, bearing N.N.W., and looking just 
 outside " the Calf," at the extreme point of the long 
 Dursey promontory, which must be weathered by any 
 vessel which was going away to the northward. The 
 Doutelle was coming out from behind Mizen Head on 
 the opposite tack. Staggering under a crowd of sail, 
 an occasional sea washing along her decks, but, with 
 her broad beam and hollow bows, for the most part 
 lifting easily over the swell. She, too, was as near to 
 the wind as she could go, her course being nearly 
 south-west. The /Eolus, for they could now read her 
 name through their glasses, was slightly to windward, 
 and if both vessels held on upon their present course, 
 would cross the Doutelle's bows. But she intended 
 apparently to use her advantage, bring the saucy 
 rover, which had given so much trouble, to immediate 
 close quarters, and either sink her or force her to 
 strike. 
 
 With this purpose she kept slightl}- away as if to 
 run the Doutelle down. Morty saw what she was 
 after. He had himself taken the helm when he came 
 on deck. He had been watching the relative sailing 
 powers of the two vessels, and as they had been on 
 opposite tacks, he had not completely satisfied him- 
 .self. Before he would allow his enemy to come 
 within striking distance, it was necessary for him to 
 ascertain exactly the conditions of the game. The 
 
2i8 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 interval between them was every moment lessening, 
 but he observed with satisfaction the frigate, in her 
 eagerness to close, throwing away the superiority of 
 her windward position. He held on till they were less 
 than a mile apart, when it appeared as if the frigate 
 was coming straight into him, and her men could be 
 seen swarming about the guns. Suddenh' he gave 
 the order to go about. The Doutclk spun round. 
 Notwithstanding the intensity of the excitement, the 
 crew worked with the precision of a machine, doubt 
 and disagreement all forgotten ; everyone did his 
 utmost and his best, and without losing her speed the 
 smart little vessel was off in a few moments in a 
 new direction. 
 
 The Frigate and the Privateer were now on the 
 same tack. The Aioliis had so far been out- 
 manoeuvred. She had lost her advantage owing to 
 her own impatience. She was as near as possible in 
 the Doutelle's wake, and a mile astern of her. The 
 course of both was outside Dursey Head, the Calf 
 Rock bearing N.X.W. and fifteen miles distant. 
 Had the water been smooth they might have been 
 able to weather it, but the set of the sea drove 
 them both to leeward, while the immediate question 
 was which of the two was gaining. If the Don telle could 
 have increased her distance before she was obliged 
 to tack and reach out again, she might get round the 
 point and escape. The rate of sailing was so even, 
 that for several minutes it was difficult to tell which 
 had the advantage. But the privateer was doing her 
 utmost. Her masts were groaning under the sail 
 which she was carrying. The frigate had not shaken 
 out a reef, and might add a knot to her speed when 
 she [)leased. It appeared too, when the chase had 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 219 
 
 lasted for a mile or two, that from her size and power 
 she held up better against the sea, and was regaining 
 her position to windward. She had only therefore to 
 hold on for an hour till they came in with the land, 
 and Morty must either then go about and fall straight 
 into her mouth, or run up into Bantry Bay and be 
 captured at leisure, or else be driven ashore and 
 destroyed. The end seemed so inevitable, that the 
 frigate made no more attempts to close, but was 
 content to wait the issue, which could not be two 
 hours distant. Morty himself so little liked the look 
 of things, that, if the frigate's great length had not 
 promised that her superiority would be still greater 
 before the wind, he would have worn round, taken the 
 chance of a broadside, and run back to the eastward. 
 But there was no hope that way. At the worst he 
 could run the vessel ashore, land his crew, and blow 
 her up. But he had still an hour and a half before 
 him to try what better he could do. Perhaps guess- 
 ing what he might attempt, the yEolus hoisted a 
 signal ordering him to heave to. As he took no 
 notice she fired a shot from one of her bow guns ; the 
 ball fell short, and so did a second with which she 
 followed it ; and Morty, satisfied that he had nothing 
 more to do with than the old fashioned nine-pounders, 
 called a seaman to the tiller, and bidding him to hold 
 on upon the same course, determined to try what he 
 could do with his own particular favourite, the long 
 twelve-pounder which Blake had made for him on 
 his own design, and was so constructed that it could 
 be slewed over the stern. If he could but cut away a 
 spar, or a few ropes, he might gain a precious half- 
 hour. Once round the point of the Durseys he would 
 have nothing more to fear. 
 
220 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 A dancing target is easily missed from a dancing 
 platform, but Morty had commanded an Austrian 
 Artillery Company, and was a master of his art. 
 
 To find the range, he fired his first shot at the 
 frigate's hull. The white splinters from the bulwarks 
 told him what he desired to know. It was also 
 evident that the shot had disturbed the equanimity of 
 the frigate's company, who seemed to feel as some 
 large mastiff might do who had felt the teeth of a 
 bulldog. They were more astonished at the im- 
 pudence than irritated at the damage done. But the 
 officer in command thought again that it was time 
 to end the business, and after the bow guns had 
 been tried once more without effect, the reefs were 
 shaken out of the topsails, and the ship began to 
 quicken her speed through the water. 
 
 The frigate now came tearing along, as if she were 
 alive herself, and was feeling the fever of the chase, 
 with the men at quarters, and the mouths of the guns 
 showing ominously at the open portholes. The 
 Don telle, which had been hitherto jammed up close 
 to the wind, was allowed to fall off a point or a point 
 and a half, which gave her additional speed, and 
 enabled her to maintain her distance for a short 
 time longer. The advantage which she gained 
 in this way she would have to pay with interest 
 when she came up with the land and had to 
 tack. There were still however eight miles to be run 
 first, and Morty's one chance was that some lucky 
 hit might save him. Aiming now at masts and 
 yards, now at ropes and sails, he sent shot after shot 
 through the frigate's tops. She with her short guns 
 could make no reply, and he fired on with impunity, 
 cutting sheets and halyards, and sending chips flying, 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 221 
 
 till she found that in this way she was exposing herself 
 uselessly to a chance of serious damage, and that she 
 had better wait at a safer distance for the inevitable 
 catastrophe. Before any important spar had been 
 injured, therefore, or rope severed, she checked her 
 way and drew out of range, and the two vessels 
 plunged on, the frigate half a mile to windward 
 and as far astern, till from the decks of the Doutelle 
 could be seen the clear green of the great Atlantic 
 billows as they swelled up against the rocks direct 
 ahead and broke over them in thunder. 
 
 A more particular look is now necessary at the 
 coast which they were now approaching. The promon- 
 tory which divides the bays of Ken mare and Bantry 
 terminates in an Island three miles long, called 
 Dursey, or including the rocks round it and outside 
 it, the Durseys. From a distance this Island appears 
 like a continuation of the mainland, and is in fact 
 divided from it only by a sound or strait a couple of 
 miles wide and as many deep, which narrows at the 
 bottom like the neck of a bottle and terminates in a 
 passage, in places half a pistol-shot across, leading 
 from one bay to another. Fishing boats use it, but, 
 from the rocks at the most critical points and from the 
 violent stream of tide which runs through, vessels of 
 larger size never venture that way if they can help it, 
 even in smooth water and with a fair wind ; and no 
 one at all can venture at any time without tlie most 
 intimate local knowledge. The basin of the sound 
 itself before it draws in, is formed by Dursey Island 
 on the west side, on the east by a long arm of 
 land called Crow Head, a sort of natural pier or 
 breakwater. Outside this Head, at a hundred fathoms 
 distance, is a dangerous reef called the Catrock, the 
 
222 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUXBO\ 
 
 passage between the Catrock and Crow Head being 
 held impassable in an)^ weather from sunk rocks. Inside 
 the sound, with a westerly wind, the water is calm, 
 the Island acting as a shelter. But everywhere else 
 the waters roll in unchecked, breaking the whole line 
 of the coast from Berehaven to Durse}', and it was at 
 the middle of this line, at the point known as Black 
 Ball Head, that the Dontelle was now coming up to 
 the land. 
 
 At her first start across the bay she had looked 
 outside Dursey Island. She had fallen off till she 
 could barely fetch the Sound. To escape the frigate 
 she had edged in still further, while the wind had 
 drawn up a point further to the North ; she had thus 
 just weathered Black Ball Head, and had another 
 half mile for which she could stand on between her 
 and the shore. 
 
 It was no time for fighting now. The guns were 
 secured, and Morty went again to the helm. As he 
 had failed to touch the frigate in aiu' way that would 
 check her speed, his position now seemed desperate. 
 Colonel Goring's settlement was but seven or eight 
 miles off under his lee. He was tempted for a moment to 
 dash the vessel on the beach there, and die, as became 
 an O'Sullivan, in a last furious revenge upon his 
 enemy. But there was still a chance of saving both 
 ship and men, and he had no right to throw it away. 
 No one spoke to him, for he had an ugly look 
 in his face. With set lips and arms rigid, he 
 clutched the tiller, and watched the coast, as the 
 DouteUe rushed in under the shadow of the cliffs. 
 Every rock, every indentation, was familiar to him. 
 He knew that the bottom was clear. He knew that 
 the frigate would not dare to follow him in, and, 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 223 
 
 which was of greater importance to him, that he 
 would find an eddy of wind blowing off the land, 
 which, if it held, might carry him when he went about, 
 across the frigate's bows and at a fair distance to 
 windward of her. 
 
 The frigate herself lay half-way between him and 
 Dursey Head. She supposed that the DoiiteUe must 
 pass outside it ; and that there was no occasion for her 
 to run needless risks. She had but to wait, and the 
 doomed vessel would fall into her hands if Morty did 
 not plunge her desperately upon the breakers, as to 
 appearance he seemed bent on doing. On flew the 
 Doutelle, till her bowsprit plunged into the spray 
 which fell back from the cliff as the great rollers burst 
 upon them. The officers on the deck of the yEoliis 
 were watching to see her run upon the rocks, as they 
 concluded she inevitably must. They could not help a 
 cry of admiring surprise when at the last moment they 
 saw her sweep round like a racing cutter within her 
 own length, her canvas fill on the other tack, and the 
 vessel begin to move fast up the shore. The wind 
 was, as Morty anticipated, blowing right off; all his 
 canvas drew, and fiercely as the squalls came down he 
 held his course straight up towards the outer mouth of 
 Dursey Sound. The frigate filled on the same course 
 a mile ahead, but being without the same advantage 
 fell off towards the sea. The advantage could be but 
 momentary, however, for off the Sound the Doutelle 
 would again meet the true wind and the weight of the 
 sea, and the Mollis would resume her superiority. 
 The passage through into the Kenmare River was 
 marked in her charts as only practicable for small 
 boats and the end, though protracted for half-an-hour, 
 was none the less assured. 
 
224 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOV 
 
 It was beautiful to see the smaller vessel flying on, 
 her lee gunwale buried to the water line, her tall masts 
 bending like whips, and her boom and the bottom of 
 her mainsail dipping in the water as the waves rolled 
 under her. The frigate was waiting for her half a mile 
 off the land, with her fore canvas backed, and the dis- 
 tance between them was rapidly narrowing ; but as 
 long as the Doutelle had the wind from the land it \\'as 
 impossible for her antagonist to close with her ; and 
 for three miles Morty was able to hold his course 
 before he reached Crow Head. Here, however, the 
 coast took a bend to the south-east, the wind followed 
 it, and he was obliged, at last, as the English officers 
 saw that he would be, to keep away to the sea and 
 face them. By his knowledge of the coast and by 
 admirable skill he had gained the weather-gage, and 
 could cross the bolus's bows, but at so short a distance 
 that it seemed like madness to venture it. It would 
 not be a single broadside which he would have to face, 
 for as the Doutelle came up the foretopsails of the 
 jEolus were filled, and she too began to fly through 
 the water, tossing the spray over her bows, on a 
 course exactly parallel to her intended victim's. For 
 Morty it seemed there was nothing for it but to 
 stand on, with his great antagonist first a quarter of a 
 mile and then but a hundred fathoms to leeward of 
 him, over the five miles which still lay between them 
 both and the point of the long headland round 
 which la}' the Doiitellds chance of escape. The 
 privateer crew were sent below, every one of them. 
 The side of the vessel exposed to the frigate's guns 
 being buried in the water, the deck might be swept 
 and torn to splinters ; but as long as she remained 
 floating they would themselves be out of danger. 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 225 
 
 It was no time for fighting. They had to trust to 
 their seamanship. 
 
 Morty alone, of all the company, stood at the 
 helm ; his hair streaming in the wind as it escaped 
 under the folds of a handkerchief. Firm as iron he 
 held on, watching and avoiding each approaching 
 wave, and heedless of the storm which he knew 
 must in a moment descend upon him. So fine it was 
 to see him, so daring and so desperate was his enter- 
 prise, that on the Aiolns they hesitated for a moment 
 to fire upon him. They had made up their minds 
 that the Rover which had caused them so much 
 trouble should either sink or strike, but they would 
 gladly have spared so beautiful a craft and so gallant 
 a commander if he would only surrender. Seeing 
 however that there was no sign of lowering the 
 flag, the frigate's broadside opened, gun after gun, 
 first singly then all the guns upon a side together. At 
 so short a distance every shot told. The decks of the 
 Doutelle were ripped open, being entirely exposed as 
 she lay over to the wind, and splinters flew from stem 
 to stern. The marines from the frigate's tops poured 
 in volleys of musketry, and the musket balls could 
 be heard rattling when they struck. For five minutes 
 the tempest lasted. No structure of oak and copper 
 could bear another five of so pitiless a tornado. Yet 
 the point of Dursey lay half an hour ahead of them, 
 and no miracle could be looked for to save a crew of 
 pirates. The spars and cordage of the Doiitelle 
 were so far untouched, as the fire had been directed 
 upon the hull. Morty had not escaped entirely, 
 a ball had torn his cheek open ; but he was still 
 erect, as if the storm which had been pelting him had 
 been but drops of rain. Still he held on, never look- 
 
 15 
 
226 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY, 
 
 ing at his enemy, glancing now at the sea and now at 
 the land. Rushing on together the two vessels thus 
 reached Crow Head and could look into Dursey Saund. 
 Half a mile in front was Catrock, rising black among 
 the streams of foam which poured down its sides as 
 the seas broke over it, and between Catrock and Crow 
 Head were a line of reefs under water among which 
 the great waves burst and thundered. There, if any- 
 where on earth, lay the hopes of Morty Sullivan, for 
 among those reefs there was a passage into the Sound, 
 narrow, tortuous, perilous, through which he had him- 
 self once steered a smuggling lugger in a storm ; and 
 if he survived the hail that was rattling about him he be- 
 lieved that he could do it again. Impracticable though 
 the officers of the yEolus supposed the passage to be 
 from the Sound into the Kenmare River, they conjec- 
 tured that Morty must be intending to try it ; but 
 between the Catrock and the Head not one of them 
 had any notion that it was possible to pass at all. 
 They were about to close with him and make an end, 
 when there was a sudden call in the Doutelle of 
 " about ship." Morty sent his helm down. The 
 crew swarmed up from below and handled the sails. 
 Round she came, no longer offering a broadside mark 
 to the Mollis, but turning her stern to her and rapidly 
 leaving her, and dashing in direct upon the boiling 
 cauldron. The frigate held on upon her course, believ- 
 ing that Morty was running purposely on shore, and 
 herself unable to follow till she had weathered the 
 Catrock. In another moment the privateer was in a 
 turmoil of waters as wild as the Maelstrom. But her 
 pilot had not overrated the accuracy of his recollec- 
 tion. The blood dripped fast from his shattered cheek, 
 but he never left the helm. On the gallant vessel passed, 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. iin 
 
 the dark rocks starting up all around her in the 
 hollows of the waves ; leaking badly in places, from the 
 bolus's shot, for her starboard side was now under 
 water, where she had been wounded by balls which 
 had passed through her deck. Through she went, 
 unscathed, and made her way into the quiet waters 
 of the Sound. He shook off his enemy, and by 
 his bold manoeuvre gained a mile upon him. He 
 was for the present out of danger. The cut into 
 the Kenmare River was now but a mile from him, 
 and there was no chance of the frigate again over- 
 taking him before he could reach it. He might be 
 wrecked in passing through, or he might be sunk from 
 the hole which had been already made in him, but 
 that was the worst which he had to fear, and he 
 had one more unexpected triumph to console him. 
 The Mollis did not mean if she could help it to let 
 her prey get off. Astonished and mortified. Captain 
 Elliot, for so her commander was named, stood on 
 till he had passed the Catrock. Not believing that 
 Morty could get through after all, he too then went 
 about and followed him up the/ Sound as far as he 
 dared. Morty, whether he was to escape or perish, 
 would not leave the friend which had stuck so close 
 to him without a parting benediction. The crew 
 were all busy stopping leaks with rags or clouts, or 
 anything which came to hand. He himself, leaving 
 the tiller to Connell, loaded his own favourite gun, 
 which had fortunately escaped damage. The water in 
 the Sound being still, there was no longer a rolling 
 platform. With his bleeding cheek rested on the 
 breech, and his eye steadied to the precision of an in- 
 strument, he covered the line of the frigate's masts as 
 she came behind him. The shot sped upon its way. 
 
 IS* 
 
228 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 It caught the foot of the foretopmast. A squall 
 came down at the same moment off the cliff, and 
 Morty saw the tall spar bend, double over, and then 
 fall, carrying down upon the decks a confused mass of 
 rope and sail and splintered timber. The jib-boom 
 snapped off, the frigate flew up into the wind, and 
 there she lay, till the wreck could be cleared, at the 
 mercy of the winds and waves. 
 
 Cool, but exulting as he had a right to be, Morty 
 sprang upon the binnacle and waved his cap as a 
 parting salute. The next moment the Doiitelle and 
 her Captain had passed out of sight round the 
 end of the Island, and entered the narrow channel. 
 Both to him and to Council every twist and turn 
 of it was familiar. Years had passed since either 
 of them had seen the place, but impressions 
 made in the first adventures of young life remain 
 vivid and correct, when the mature knowledge of 
 advancing age becomes crowded and indistinct. They 
 passed through their second peril without misadven- 
 ture, and were safe in the open waters of the Kenmare 
 River, and never more would any member of the 
 Doiitelle' s company raise a question of the qualities of 
 their commander. They had double reason to be 
 grateful to him, for when their hurts were enquired into, 
 it was found that as they had been stowed below the 
 water-line while the vessel was under fire, they had 
 suffered nothing beyond a few splinter wounds. Morty, 
 who had taken the danger upon himself, was the only 
 one of them all who had been seriously injured. 
 
 But if the crew had escaped danger, such had not 
 been the fortune of the Doutclle. The shot had torn 
 through her deck, and started her timbers. The holes 
 in her side had been plugged, but the water was re- 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 229 
 
 ported as rising in her hold, and unless she could be 
 beached somewhere, and promptly, her escape from 
 destruction might prove but a brief respite. Where 
 to go in such a dilemma was a problem all the 
 harder to solve, because, as Connell had said, Irish 
 friendship was not to be relied on in times of mis- 
 fortune. Morty's own Bay at Eyris was close by 
 and safe, with level sand. But Colonel Goring would 
 be but a few miles off, at Castlehaven. The JEohis 
 it was likely would put in there to refit, and two 
 hundred blue jackets might come down upon him 
 over the hill while his ship was on the ground. 
 
 Eyris could not be thought of, but there was 
 another spot not far from Connell's home at 
 Darrynane, where for Connell's own sake they would 
 be certainty of hospitality if not demanded for too 
 long. At the wildest point of Kerry, where the deep 
 Bay of Ballinskelligs has been scooped out by the 
 waves which have rolled in from the Atlantic for 
 millions of years, a peninsula which has since parted 
 from the mainland and become an island, still shel- 
 tered, as it had done for ages, a small haven. 
 Tempted by the situation a colony of maritime monks 
 who lived by fishing, had built an abbey on the shore, 
 and had excavated an inner boat harbour for them- 
 selves. The monks were gone, the abbey lay in 
 ruins. The sea had broken a passage behind the 
 Island, was tearing away the cemetery, and strewing 
 the beach with fragments of bones and coffins. The 
 neglected boat harbour was beginning to fill up. 
 But the mouth of it was still available at spring 
 tides, and happily it was just New Moon. Hither 
 Morty carried his wounded Doutelle. Here, out 
 of sight and out of ken (for great headlands and 
 
230 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 mountainous islands lay between him and the Sound, 
 where he had left his pursuers), he took her in at high 
 water, and laid her gently on the sands as she had 
 deserved by her splendid behaviour. Here too we 
 may leave him to repair his damages, replace his 
 started planks, and finally make his way back to 
 Nantes, which he reached successfully at the end of a 
 fortnight. 
 
 For the frigate the issues of the adventure had 
 been inglorious. Captain Elliot had been ordered to 
 capture or sink a privateer which had appeared upon 
 the coast. He had met with her, had come up with 
 her, had brought her under his guns, yet had allowed 
 her to slip through his hands, and had been left him- 
 self with ruffled plumage and a broken wing. He 
 consoled himself with the hope that, after all, perhaps 
 the privateer would not ha\-e survived the punishment 
 which she had received, and had sunk in the Ken- 
 mare River. For the escape, his charts and not he 
 were to blame, for the charts insisted that there was 
 no passage through the Sound, and had there been 
 none, the Doiitelle could not have got away. After 
 clearing away the wreckage and getting his ship 
 under command again, he decided, as Morty expected 
 that he would do, to drop into Berehaven to put 
 himself to rights, and take counsel with Colonel 
 Goring as to his future movements. He had been 
 instructed also to enquire into Goring's duel at 
 Derreen, with the subsequent affair at Glengariff, and 
 to send up an impartial account of what had taken 
 place on both those occasions. 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 231 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 The firing of heavy guns in Dursey Sound had 
 been heard at Dunboy, and Goring's sanguine tem- 
 perament had assured him that the work was being 
 done effectively, and that they would hear no more 
 of Morty Sullivan and his clipper. It was therefore 
 with no small disappointment that he saw the 
 crippled Aiolus creeping in to the anchorage before 
 his windows, and heard from Captain Elliot the 
 unsuccessful result of the engagement. 
 
 In Ireland, as in all countries pervaded generally 
 by disaffected feeling, news spread rapidly, no one 
 knows how ; and before two days were over, Elliot's 
 expectation that, after all, perhaps the Doutelle had 
 gone to the bottom, was proved to be baseless. She 
 had been seen crossing the mouth of the Kenmare 
 River, and disappearing among the Islands. She had 
 been beached in Ballinskelligs Bay. She had been 
 repaired. She had suffered little or nothing. She had 
 sailed for France again. 
 
 The failure filled the friends of the French and of 
 Morty with a hardly concealed delight ; and the 
 shattered spars of the frigate were a witness of his 
 daring, and a promise of future triumphs. The satis- 
 faction was not too openly expressed, for the victory 
 was by no means unqualified. If a king's ship had 
 been baffled and beaten off, the fight at Glengarifif, and 
 the destruction of the cargo of arms, had inspired a 
 wholesome fear of Goring's Protestant colonists. But 
 for this very reason, it was the more likely that the 
 
232 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 disordered bands in the mountains might make some 
 desperate effort to destroy them. Mort\' himself 
 might, probably enough, return and lend a hand, to 
 revenge himself, as soon as the frigate was gone ; and 
 Elliot, considering that it would be neither safe for 
 the public interest, nor fair to Colonel Goring, to 
 leave him to control on his own resources a district 
 so exposed, and so mutinous, thought it best to 
 remain at Berehaven till he had communicated with 
 the Government at Dublin. Many years had passed 
 since a ship of war had been seen in the harbour. 
 The Irish had been encouraged by the apparent 
 indifference to Goring's requests for assistance. They 
 were never dangerous, except from the apath}^ of the 
 central authorities ; and with the risk, so real and so 
 obvious, of French assistance being supplied to them, 
 if the temper which they were showing was allowed 
 to develop itself unchecked, he considered that he 
 ought not to leave the station till his place could 
 be taken by some other vessel in the King's service. 
 He wrote at length, and Goring wrote. Often had 
 Goring told the same story to deaf ears, but he was sup- 
 ported now by a distinguished officer, who had been 
 specially directed to make enquiries ; and the whole 
 situation was set out with a clearness and a weight of 
 proof which he could not allow himself to believe 
 would fail in commanding attention. Elliot could 
 entertain no doubt at all. Experience forbade Goring 
 to be confident, but he, too, hoped. 
 
 For three weeks they waited for the repl}\ At 
 length it came. The authorities at the Castle had 
 taken time to deliberate, and they answered thus : 
 
 " His Excellency was not insensible of the service 
 which Colonel Goring had rendered, in checking the 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOV, 233 
 
 enterprises of a dangerous privateer. The offence of 
 smuggling, serious in itself, assumed a graver com- 
 plexion when connected with the introduction of 
 arms, the enlisting recruits for the enemy, and the 
 encouragement of political disaffection. Supposing 
 therefore the account which had been forwarded to 
 be correct, a point on which his Excellency, for the 
 present, offered no opinion, he had no fault to find 
 with Colonel Goring's conduct. 
 
 " At the same time, he could not admit that the 
 practices to which Colonel Gordon had drawn atten- 
 tion, prevailed to the extent which both he and 
 Captain Elliot assumed ; his Excellency trusted that 
 the lesson which the smugglers had received, would 
 suffice to deter them for the future from a renewal of 
 such enterprises ; and, with respect to the request that 
 one of his Majesty's vessels should be stationed at 
 Dunboy, his Excellency regarded such a measure as 
 unnecessary in itself, as an affront to the loyalty of 
 his Majesty's good Catholic subjects in those districts, 
 and as interfering with the important duties attaching 
 to his Majesty's ships in other parts of the Empire. 
 
 " In conveying to Colonel Goring and his tenants 
 and servants his appreciation of the courage and 
 loyalty which he understood them to have displayed, 
 his Excellency desired further to remind both him 
 and them, that living as they were, surrounded by a 
 population of a different race and religion, it was their 
 duty to avoid, as far as possible, everything which 
 might give reasonable offence ; and his Excellency 
 thought it the more necessary to insist on this point, 
 as he had learnt, to his regret, that the English families 
 whom Colonel Goring had introduced upon his estate, 
 did not conform to the Established Religion, but pro- 
 
234 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 fessed opinions which, in the judgment of the excellent 
 Prelates to whom the spiritual care of the country had 
 been committed, were not calculated to promote peace 
 and good feeling 
 
 " Trusting that nothing which had been said would 
 be taken as reflecting upon the conduct of Colonel 
 Goring, for whom he entertained the highest respect, 
 
 "He had the honour to be, etc." 
 
 The same messenger brought an order for the instant 
 return of the Aiolns to Cork, in terms which amounted 
 to a reproof to the Captain for having been so long 
 absent without orders. 
 
 It was too much. This was all the thanks then to 
 Colonel Goring for five )^ears of toil and danger. A 
 qualified acknowledgment which was almost a rebuke, 
 and a definite intimation that no help would be given 
 him. Why, indeed, should they help him ? The 
 Government, it was clear, only resented his activity. 
 To do anything towards keeping order in any part of 
 Ireland, only made trouble. The Government did not 
 like trouble ; they wished him to do nothing. To help 
 him would be only to encourage him to exert himself 
 further. If he was knocked on the head, an unprac- 
 tical fanatic would be out of the way. That was all. 
 
 His first impulse was to terminate at once his con- 
 nection with the revenue service, where energy was a 
 crime and negligence a duty ; and, indeed, he did 
 finally resolve to resign his commission at the earliest 
 favourable opportunit}-. But he concluded to wait 
 either till the country was more settled, or till some 
 competent person could be provided to succeed him. 
 To throw his appointment up at once would be a public 
 intimation that the Government disapproved of his con- 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 235 
 
 duct, and would thus be the most dangerous encou- 
 ragement to the rebelUous spirit which was abroad. 
 
 It was not, however, the refusal of support and the 
 steady discouragement of his efforts which gave him 
 the greatest anxiety. With the strong and vigorous 
 community which he had formed about him, a com- 
 munity of Protestant English, who could furnish at an 
 emergency a hundred men daring and strong as 
 Cromwell's Ironsides, he had no serious fear of the 
 mountain rabble of Cork and Kerry, nor very much 
 of Morty Sullivan's Doutelle, should he care to risk 
 another descent. It was not that. It was the ani- 
 mosity, visible in the letters and visible in the whole 
 action of the authorities towards him, against the 
 settlement itself which he had formed. He had built 
 and endowed the church at Glengariff at his own 
 expense, in the hope of conciliating the Bishop. He 
 had attended the services there frequently himself„ 
 taking part of his people along with him ; and his 
 school at Dunboy he had placed under the direc- 
 tion of the Incumbent, whom he had allowed the 
 Bishop to nominate. But the Bishop had appointed 
 a gentleman to whom Calvinism was the deadliest of 
 heresies ; who interfered with the management as if 
 deliberately to insult and irritate the families for whose 
 children the school had been instituted ; while the 
 buildings the church had been made an excuse for the 
 continued refusal oi the registration license for the 
 Independent chapel at Dunboy. He had appealed to 
 the Bishop, and from the Bishop he was again referred 
 to the Grand Jury of the county, of whom by the letter 
 of the statute he seemed entitled to demand consent. 
 But again the Grand Jury pretended that the Dunboy 
 congregation professed opinions, of the lawfulness of 
 
236 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 which they were not satisfied. The question was 
 referred back to the Primate, and with the Primate 
 it was left to be considered, and never was considered. 
 And Goring was perfectly certain that unless they 
 might serve God after their own fashion, and bring up 
 their children in their own principles, the best of his 
 people would certainly refuse to remain with him. 
 They were all good, upright, and brave men ; but the 
 bravest, the most intense, those who were most to be 
 relied on in times of danger and difficulty, were of the 
 stern race whose faith was the ruling principle of their 
 lives, who had been the fighting wing throughout 
 Europe of the Protestant army ; to lose them would 
 be to lose his right arm ; yet the rugged conscientious- 
 ness which made their value would itself force them to 
 leave him. 
 
 They had followed him to Ireland in the belief that 
 he shared their opinions, and in reliance upon the Act 
 of Toleration. If the benefit of the Act was refused 
 to them, they gave him to understand plainly that 
 they would not follow him into compliance with the 
 forms of the Establishment, and would go, where so 
 many of their brethren had gone before them, to New 
 England. 
 
 As yet nothing serious had been done. The con- 
 gregation had continued to meet. The Falmouth 
 minister had preached and prayed, and the meddling 
 of the clergyman in the school had been disarmed by 
 judicious diplomacy. But this could not go on for 
 ever. Recent events had drawn attention to the 
 colony, and the power and usefulness of such a com- 
 munity in encountering disorder had been displayed 
 in a remarkable way. Absurd as was the general 
 administration of the countiy, Colonel Goring could 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 237 
 
 not believe that wilfully and with their eyes open the 
 Government could desire to destroy it He deter- 
 mined that he would go himself to Dublin, make his 
 way into the presence of the great persons there, and 
 learn what they really meant. He was a stranger 
 to the ways of politicians. He had never moved in 
 political circles, and his experience at a distance had 
 not created any anxiety to be more intimately ac- 
 quainted with them. But politicians he understood 
 were human creatures, and even a superior kind of 
 human creatures, and he was anxious to see what 
 they could be like, and to learn the principles of their 
 actions, which were leading to such unaccountable 
 results. 
 
 Among the Fellows of Trinity College he had a near 
 relative, a Mr. Fitzherbert, who would be his heir if he 
 died without children. Fitzherbert was thirty-five years 
 old ; he moved in the highest society in the Metropolis, 
 and was a critic and a man of the world. He had not 
 sought admittance to either of the learned professions. 
 Though intimately acquainted with every member of 
 the House of Commons, he had never invited the 
 suffrages of a constituency, and had amused himself 
 with watching the action from outside of the most 
 corrupt assembly in the world. His kinsman's re- 
 puted character had interested him, as something 
 unusual in Ireland, something out of date, and ante- 
 diluvian. He had often invited Goring to pay him a 
 visit ; and Goring on the other hand felt that no one 
 would be better able than Fitzherbert to explain the 
 situation to him. Parliament was to meet at the end 
 of November. The session was to be an exciting one. 
 and every person of consequence would be in Dublin 
 for the occasion, even to the Viceroy, whose visits to 
 
238 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY, 
 
 Ireland were brief and rare as those of angels. A better 
 opportunity could not be found. His kinsman wel- 
 comed his proposal with enthusias-m, and added an in- 
 vitation from the Provost for the distinguished Colonel 
 to be a guest at the College. It was arranged that 
 Mrs. Goring should spend the weeks that her husband 
 might be absent, with a friend at Cork. She had con- 
 sented reluctantl}-, having absolute confidence in the 
 gallant defenders at home, they too claiming loudly 
 a right to be her body-guard. But Dunboy was a 
 wild place in mid-winter. The friend entreated, 
 Colonel Goring approved. The Governor of Cork 
 offered to send an escort to Rantry. The lad}' at least 
 was in good hands and safe, and the Colonel went 
 upon his wa}'. 
 
 Irish country gentlemen in the middle of the last 
 century made their journeys on horseback. Carriage 
 roads were few, and being unmetalled were cut into 
 ruts a foot deep. Men of business travelled in 
 companies for protection. Lords and ladies were 
 attended by retinues of servants heavily armed, 
 for Rapparees and Tories were still on the prowl, 
 VVhiteboys had sprung out of the earth like the 
 mystic warriors that grew out of the teeth of the 
 dragon. Dissolute young spendthrifts, even out of 
 the upper families, were not ashamed to mend their 
 fortunes on the highwa3\ Not in Kerry onh' but 
 throughout the whole of Munster, the peasantry were 
 busy tearing up the landlords' farms at night, or 
 carding tithe Proctors, or drilling to be ready for the 
 landing of the French. It was a wild scene in which 
 those who could find a home elsewhere would not 
 care to reside, and those who were obliged to reside 
 in it might be expected to stir but rarely from under 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOW i^g 
 
 their own roofs. Habit, however, which inures us to 
 ev-ery thing, rendered hfe in such circumstances not 
 tolerable only, but delightful. Irish society grew up 
 in happy recklessness. Insecurity added zest to 
 enjoyment, and the solid Saxon families which were 
 spread over the soil under Cromwell and Charles the 
 Second, finding themselves unprotected by law and 
 left to their own resources, adapted themselves to 
 their new element and lived for the day that was 
 passing over them, leaving the morrow to care for 
 itself. They had a charm about them, peculiarly 
 their own, a charm of high refinement along with 
 habits wild as a red Indian's. They were reckless, 
 careless, infinitely hospitable and utterly extravagant, 
 regardless of law, but graceful in the neglect of it, 
 only too like in a new element to the original Celts 
 among whom they had been planted. 
 
 Colonel Goring was passed along among them 
 from mansion to mansion, no gentleman being 
 allowed under penalties to go to an Inn, when 
 recommended under the universal rule from one host 
 to another. He was entertained with boundless 
 cordiality. To some he was known by reputation, 
 with others from his service in the army he had a 
 distant acquaintance. He was amused, he was 
 horrified, he was occasionally interested. More and 
 more he found himself speculating on what could be 
 the political future of a country of which such light 
 beings were the social chiefs. To him it seemed as if 
 the English settled in Ireland were playing over the 
 crust of a sleeping volcano, which they were them- 
 selves half aware of and tried to forget in light- 
 heartedness. Many of them like himself were 
 moving to Dublin for the season, and, if he had 
 
240 
 
 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 pleased, he might have attached himself to one or 
 other party for the entire journey. But he preferred 
 his own society, and hurried forward under pretext 
 of urgent business. 
 
 A November evening was closing in, when, after 
 encountering no particular adventure be}'ond a 
 faction fight on market-day at Thurles, where a 
 dozen people were killed, and no one thought 
 anything about the matter. Colonel Goring found 
 himself entering the Irish capital. He was almost a 
 stranger there. His youth and early manhood had 
 been spent with the army abroad. He had been 
 some time in Galway with his friend Eyre ; but to the 
 Viceroy's Court and the smart circles about St. 
 Stephen's Green he was an absolute stranger. Once or 
 twice he had passed through Dublin on his way to or 
 from England, that was all that he knew of it. His 
 road lay beside the Liffey, along the broad, level, but 
 ill-lighted causeway, which formed the margin of the 
 river. Something seemed to be going on, for a steady 
 stream of people was flowing eastward along the 
 embankment, growing as it advanced, from fresh 
 additions pouring in from adjoining streets and lanes. 
 As the effervescence which he was about to witness 
 proved of some consequence, a few words are 
 necessary to explain the occasion of it. 
 
 The administration of Ireland, if inefficient, was at 
 least economical. If little was done, little was demanded 
 of the people for doing it. There was neither police in 
 city or country, nor systematic organization of any 
 kind to make the law respected. Some communities 
 are so situated that establishments are kept on foot 
 which receive and spend the Taxpayers' money, and 
 pretend to do much, while they accomplish nothing. If 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 241 
 
 Ireland was ungoverned, there was no charge for 
 neglecting to govern it ; the revenue exceeded the 
 expenditure ; there was an annual surplus ; and the 
 Government in London and the Irish politicians could 
 not agree as to which of them had a right to the 
 disposition of it. Both pretended that they only de- 
 sired to apply the money to the good of the country. 
 But the Irish view was that it should be kept and 
 spent at home, while the English, if left to do as 
 they pleased, would probably appropriate it to the 
 enlargement of the already infamous Irish pension 
 list, on which impecunious Court favourites, foreign 
 relations of the Royal Family, troublesome orators 
 in the English House of Commons whom it was 
 desirable to silence3 or still more ambiguous connec- 
 tions of the first person in the land, had for gene- 
 rations been unscrupulously quartered. No middle 
 term being discoverable between views so opposite, 
 and each side being obstinate, the Irish members 
 had threatened that as soon as Parliament met 
 (hey would refuse the supplies. The Castle had 
 tried to undermine the coalition against it by 
 corruption. The success had, so far, fallen short of 
 what was usual on such occasions, and there had 
 been threats in consequence, both in London and 
 among the supporters of the Castle in Dublin, to 
 suppress the Irish Parliament altogether and either 
 vote the taxes in the English Parliament, or else 
 dispense with them and carry on the Government, 
 which could hardly be more a shadow than it 
 already was, with the part of the revenue which had 
 been permanently settled on the Crown. The time 
 was not so distant since the Protestant gentry of 
 Ireland had petitioned to be relieved of their 
 
 16 
 
242 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 nationality and to be taken under a union into the 
 English constitution. All was altered now. The 
 pension scandals, the destruction of their trade and 
 the recent coquetting of the English Government 
 with the Catholics, had kindled a feeling of exaspera- 
 tion and indignation. They on their side, supposing 
 themselves betrayed, began also to turn to the 
 Catholics, that the advantages of concession might 
 not be England's only. Thus the Irish nationality, 
 once extinguished, was being roused into life again, 
 and at the mere rumour that the Irish Parliament 
 was to be suppressed, the mob of both creeds burst 
 out as they had done in the time of Wood's half- 
 pence, in a furious determination to resist. A union 
 would have been easy at the beginning of the cen- 
 tury, when the Catholics were crushed and the Irish 
 rt^oollen and shipping industries were still prosperous. 
 It would have been possible still, had there been a 
 hope that the trade disabilities would be repealed, and 
 that the revenue would be applied legitimately to 
 maintain order and good government. In the face 
 of commercial ruin and the infamy of the pension 
 list, those who least believed in the value to Ireland 
 of a separate Parliament had to feel that the present 
 was not a time for the surrender of it. 
 
 The session was to open, as has been already said, 
 on the day on which Colonel Goring arrived in Dublin. 
 The Viceroy had landed a few da\'s pre\'iously with 
 the latest instructions from London, and an impression 
 had gone abroad that a proposal was to be introduced 
 for the modification of the Constitution, which certain 
 members of both houses had been bribed into 
 promising to support. A patriotic demonstration was 
 in consequence about to be held at the doors of the 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 243 
 
 Parliament House, and the crowds whom the Colonel 
 had fallen in with, were streaming towards College 
 Green for the purpose. There had been heavy rain 
 for the last {(ny^ days. The Liffey was coming down 
 in a brown flood. The streets were deep in mud, and 
 through the yellow fog the link-boys could be seen 
 running with their torches by the side of chairs and 
 coaches, the occupants of which were either bound 
 out to dinner, or were on the way themselves to the 
 opening. The throng of vehicles was thickest at the 
 gate of the Castle, where the Viceroy it seemed was 
 entertaining some distinguished party. 
 
 Finding the crowd grew denser as he advanced. 
 Goring left his horse with his servant, to follow at 
 leisure to the College, and pursued his way on foot. 
 From the talk of the people round him he gathered 
 in fragments the cause of the excitement, of which as 
 yet he had heard little or nothing. 
 
 " Ah, then," said one, " the bloody Saxons will be 
 taking our Parliament away, and setting our necks 
 under the feet of the soldiers. Bad cess to the race 
 of them. 'Twas a black day for Ireland that brought 
 the heretic divils among us." 
 
 " It is the Parliament men themselves," said 
 another, " that is selling the country for the pen- 
 sions ; they would sell their souls out of their 
 bodies for King George's gold, if the divil hadn't 
 a mortgage on them already, so that they have no 
 title to dispose of." 
 
 " Little good the Protestant Parliament ever did 
 us," said a third. " We will have a Parliament of 
 our own again as we had in King James's days, and 
 those will be the boys that will make them skip 
 The French are coming, and the ould owners will be 
 
 16* 
 
244 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 back upon the land. May the Lord bless them and 
 bring them safe home." 
 
 " If ye wait till the French come to help ye, ye 
 will be waiting long in my thinking," said a woman 
 who was plunging along with a troop of Amazons 
 about her, her snaky ringlets streaming out from under 
 a tattered bonnet. " What is the use of talking like 
 that. Sure the gentry would be well enough if they 
 knew how to behave themselves, the poor cratures. 
 We will take possession of the Parliament House 
 ourselves for this night, to give them their instruc- 
 tions, and may be they will do better in time to 
 come." 
 
 " There may be two words to that bargain, Mary, 
 my lass," said a man in a sailor's dress, who had just 
 come up out of the " liberties " w^ith a party of seamen. 
 <' There is a regiment of Dragoons in the Castle 
 barracks, that will be breaking out upon ye before 
 the night is much older." 
 
 " Is it the Dragoons break out upon us ? " exclaimed 
 the woman. " And who will be giving them the orders 
 I wonder, and don't we know every mother's son of 
 them, the darlings ; and won't the girls here melt the 
 hearts of them with the glances of their purty 
 eyes ? " 
 
 " I'd be sorry to trust to that security," said the 
 sailor. " Girls are apt to shut those eyes of theirs 
 when the cold steel is flashing. Happily we are 
 better provided." 
 
 And indeed the mob assumed every moment a 
 more formidable appearance. They were joined by 
 compact bodies of men, armed with cutlasses, pikes, 
 and pistols, and moving under orders with some 
 form of discipline. They gathered steadily in volume 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 245 
 
 till they reached the open space in front of the 
 Houses of the Legislature, and proceeded to take 
 military possession of the Green and its approaches. 
 The iron railings surrounding the Sanctuary of the Irish 
 Constitution, were torn down. Strong detachments 
 occupied the doors and the flights of steps which led 
 up to them. Space in front was left sufficient to 
 allow the members to drive up. As Peer or Com- 
 moner arrived, the door of his carriage was opened. 
 His name was shouted out, and was greeted with 
 applause if his patriotism was above suspicion, but 
 more often with howls or derisive scorn and laughter. 
 An oath to be true to Ireland and Irish liberty was 
 then proposed to him. If he swallowed it, he was 
 allowed to pass on. If he resisted or refused, his 
 horses were quietly turned round and he was advised 
 to go home, or worse might befall him. 
 
 Colonel Goring had by this time discovered that 
 in leaving Bantry Bay he was in the same Ireland as 
 before. Authority was as feeble in Dublin as in his 
 own peninsula, and the sacred ark of Irish liberty was 
 the centre of the fire. Most of it he understood but too 
 well. Local allusions were less intelligible to him when 
 members peculiarly obnoxious were reminded of their 
 particular delinquencies. Mr. Francis , the Chan- 
 cellor of the Exchequer, with one of his colleagues on 
 the Board, had taken advantage of a full Treasury to 
 set up a private Bank, using, so malicious rumours 
 said, the public money for their capital. The Bank 
 had failed, causing widespread ruin. The Exchequer 
 accounts were unintelligible ; but the estates of Mr. 
 
 Francis and his friend were found to have been 
 
 secured against the creditors, and also to have been 
 cleared of their incumbrances. 
 
246 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 Mr. Francis 's name was a signal for a general 
 
 yell, and he might have been roughh' handled, had not 
 the woman with the snaky hair, who had made her way 
 to the front of the crowd, mockingly protected him. 
 
 " Arrah, then, Mr. Francis," she cried, " it's yourself 
 that is the right boy for the place ye are holding ; ye 
 have been careful of the surplus, God bless ye, that 
 them English would have been carr}qng away from 
 us, and ye have put it safe into the Irish soil, where 
 it will be for the redeeming of the dirty papers that 
 ye set going upon us from }'our bank." 
 
 "Ye'll be pleased to swear, sir, before we let ye 
 pass," said a big man, flourishing a sword over the 
 unlucky official's head, " that \'e will give up that land 
 of yours to the poor people that ye have swindled." 
 
 Mr. Francis mumbled, stuttered, protested, and 
 
 looked about him, angry and helpless. 
 
 " Don't be spoiling the handsome face of ye that 
 way, Mr. Francis," said the woman. " What are ye 
 afraid of, man ? Sure ye ha\-e sworn oaths enough in 
 your life, and broken them too, that you are choking 
 now when we are asking ye to be an honest man for 
 once in }^our life. Swallow the words do\\'n, me honey, 
 and ye'll be the better for it afterwards." 
 
 The unlucky Mr. Francis would have been 
 
 forced to promise to disgorge his plunder, had not the 
 attention of the people been called off by a more 
 important arrival. Surrounded by servants and link- 
 boys, there now drove up no less a person than the 
 Irish Lord Chancellor. His attendants, who were 
 accustomed to find their master treated with a respect 
 second only to what was paid to the Vicero\;, ordered 
 the crowd imperiously to clear out of the way 
 Finding they did not immediately obey, the coach- 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. '2A7 
 
 man flogged his horses, and struck a man across the 
 face with a whip who had taken them by the head to 
 prevent their plunging. The Irish aristocracy were 
 often free in the use of their whip, when the canaille 
 were not sufficiently cringing. But times were 
 changing. The spirit was beginning to breathe which 
 in forty years was to burst into rebellion. The driver 
 was dashed in a moment off his box ; the servants 
 were hustled and beaten ; and a paving stone was 
 flung through the carriage window as an intimation to 
 the great man that he must come out. 
 
 The Chancellor, Lord B , was an Englishman. 
 
 He was supposed to have been put in possession of 
 the seals for the express purpose of suppressing the 
 constitution, and was thus the especial object of 
 suspicion and animosity. 
 
 Seeing that it was useless to resist. Lord B 
 
 alighted, and stood fronting the mob with an eye 
 which overawed them in spite of themselves. 
 
 " My Lord," said one of the best mannered of the 
 leaders, " we are sorry to be rough with you, but we 
 must require a promise of you this night on your 
 oath. They say that there is a plot against the 
 country, and that yourself is to be the principal actor 
 in it. If there is none, the words will not hurt ye. 
 If there be, we would like to spoil it before it is ripe. 
 Ye will please to take an oath that ye will do nothing, 
 either in your office or in your place in Parliament, 
 against the Liberties of Ireland." 
 
 '' Plot ! " said the Chancellor. " Are you all mad ? 
 What Plot ? What mean you ? " 
 
 " We don't know the rights of it, your honour," said 
 the same man, " but they do say that the British 
 nation is tired of quarrelling with the Parliament 
 
248 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 here, that they mean to make an end of it, and vote 
 the taxes which they intend to take from us them- 
 seh^es. God help the poor country if it be so, for 
 they have been cruel masters to us already, and they 
 will be worse then." 
 
 '' It is a dream," the Chancellor replied. " The 
 British nation have no such purpose. Emissaries 
 from our enemies in France have been telling you lies 
 about us. The British nation means only good to 
 Ireland, and has never meant aught else but good." 
 
 " 'Deed then," said the man, " the British nation 
 knows but poorly how to get through with her 
 meaning. If the intention is good, the performance 
 falls mighty short of it. But if your Lordship spakes 
 the truth, the oath won't harm ye. Ye have onl}^ to 
 say the words as we will put them to ye." 
 
 " I will not swear," the Chancellor said. " I will 
 not degrade my office by taking an oath at the dicta- 
 tion of an armed rabble." 
 
 '' There is a ground apple to teach ye manners 
 then, ye ugly-mouthed villain," said one of the women, 
 and she flung a stone at him which grazed his cheek. 
 A mob is like a wild animal, and goes mad when it 
 tastes blood. There would have been a general rush 
 in another moment. Colonel Goring, who had been 
 standing a few yards off, seeing violence begun, and 
 too well knowing what the Irish were when they had 
 broken loose, was springing forward to help his 
 countr}'man and save or fall with him, when the first 
 speaker who had addressed the Chancellor, and 
 appeared to exercise some authorit}% strode to his 
 side with a pistol in each hand. " Back with }-e," he 
 said. " Will ye dishonour the good cause b\' a 
 cowardly murder ? If au}^ of )'e dare lift a finger 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 249 
 
 against this gintleman, by the blessed angels I will 
 send his soul to Paradise." 
 
 It was a scene for a picture — the fierce faces of the 
 crowd lighted by the flaming torches, the proud old 
 Chancellor standing pale and scornful, menaced with 
 a dreadful death, and the mob leader thrusting him- 
 self between them with set teeth and cocked pistol. 
 
 " My Lord," he said, " no hurt shall be done you ; 
 but unless you swear to be true to Ireland, you will 
 not enter the Parliament House this night. Bid your 
 men turn your horses ; get into your carriage and go 
 home with ye, and give thanks to God that He has 
 saved ye this time from worse." 
 
 The rabble yelled, as a tiger yells when his food 
 is torn away from him. It was still doubtful 
 whether he would have been allowed to retire un- 
 injured, when a voice exclaimed : 
 
 " What will we be doing now then, as his Lordship 
 has been plased to retrate ? There is the good gentle- 
 men and the great Lords and the like that swore as 
 we told them, and they are just waiting in their places 
 to begin the business of the night." 
 
 " Business of the night is it ? " said another. " Sure 
 the business is to hear what King George's deputy has 
 to say to them, and who is to tell us what that will be ? " 
 
 " Ah, then," cried the sailor, addressing the woman to 
 whom he had spoken on the road. " 'Twas yourself that 
 said it, Mary my darling. There shall be no message 
 from King George this night, but there shall be a 
 message from ould Ireland, and your own voice shall 
 give it, with the Chancellor's big wig on the head of 
 ye. Sure the jintlemen that have sworn the oath are 
 good Irish, but they have the English cross in them, 
 and it will do no harm for once to have a lady of 
 
so THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 the country to speak to them. Come along with ye, 
 Mary, and we'll sate \'e on your throne." 
 
 With the mixed feeling — half of glory in the 
 Parliament, as a national institution, half of contempt 
 for it as Protestant, and an ELnglish importation — 
 the mob hurled themselves against the doors of the 
 sacred building, which the ushers vainly laboured to 
 keep closed. They swayed along the passages, and 
 poured into the august upper chamber, where some 
 fifty peers and half-a-dozen bishops who had passed 
 the ordeal were expecting, in pallor and anxiety, 
 what was next to follow. The people swarmed in 
 among them, scrambling over the velvet and gold 
 which covered the chairs and benches, jostling against 
 scarlet robes and lawn sleeves — the potter's coarse 
 clay against painted porcelain. 
 
 Mary Dogherty was conducted in state to the 
 woolsack. The Chancellor's gown was thrown over 
 her back, and the wig squeezed do\\'n upon her 
 tattered bonnet. 
 
 " Light your pipe now, Mary," said one. " Ye will 
 not be complate without the dudheen in the mouth of 
 ye. When ye have drawn a whiff or two to compose 
 yourself, we'll go to business, and you shall give us 
 your spache from the Throne." 
 
 It would have, probably, been a speech as remark- 
 able, and perhaps with as much sense in it as many 
 which had been, and will be, delivered from similar 
 places, but, unfortunately, it was not delivered after 
 all. The interruption came from the source which 
 Mary's sailor friend had first anticipated. She had 
 finished her pipe, had flung off her wig and bonnet, 
 and had stood up to begin, when a shout was heard 
 from without, of " The Dragoons ! " and the sound of 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 251 
 
 the sharp trot of a body of horse. Rough work had 
 still to be done before an Irish legislature could 
 settle down under its new Presidency to regenerate 
 their country. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Colonel Gorinc;, seeing that the rioters were in 
 possession of the Houses of Parliament, and that no 
 effort was being made by the authorities to restrain 
 them, forced his way through the crowd to Trinity 
 College. The gates were closed, but, on his explain- 
 ing that he had come on a visit to one of the Fellows, 
 he was admitted through a wicket. The quadrangle 
 was thronged with students, who were clamouring to 
 go out and act as extemporized policemen. Trinity 
 College was proud of its loyalty. In the absence of 
 any regular public body, the students' corps could 
 always be counted upon to assist in keeping the 
 peace ; and they regarded it as one of their privileges 
 to be called out on such occasions. The present out- 
 break had been so sudden, and was so unusually 
 violent, that the Provost had hesitated how to act. 
 He had directed that the students should be kept 
 within walls till the nature of the disturbance could be 
 better ascertained, and he was himself in the middle 
 of them, trying to moderate their impetuosity, when 
 Goring arrived. 
 
 The Fellows were all assisting their Chief, and the 
 Colonel had no difficulty in discovering among them 
 his kinsman, Fitzberbert. Fitzherbert introduced him 
 to the Provost, to whom his adventures at Derreen 
 and Glengariff were already well known, having been 
 the talk of Dublin. There was no leisure for con- 
 
252 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 ventional politeness. The Provost shook his guest 
 heartily by the hand, telling him that he was come at 
 the right moment, and a rapid conversation followed 
 as to what was best to be done. The guardians of 
 the peace who were known to the law in the Irish 
 Metropolis, were the old-fashioned watchmen, with 
 poles and lanterns, who called the hours, shut their 
 eyes to street irregularities, or, if they charged a 
 knave to stand, who would not stand, let him go as 
 accurately as if they had taken their orders from 
 Dogberry. In a serious riot, such men were abso- 
 lutely useless. The Provost, after hearing Goring's 
 description of what he had himself witnessed, decided 
 that a couple of hundred students, whose courage and 
 steadiness could be relied upon, should be allowed 
 out under Goring's command. The Fellows would 
 not be behind-hand, and half-a-dozen of them, Fitz- 
 herbert among the rest, eagerly joined the party. 
 The gates were flung right open, and they filed out 
 into the Green. 
 
 The scene was now wilder than ever. By the glare 
 of torches a vast mass of men were seen surging to 
 and fro, agitated and excited by the presence of a 
 company of dragoons, whom Colonel Goring was, for 
 the moment, relieved to see had at last appeared. 
 It became soon evident, however, that, although called 
 out, they had received no orders what to do ; and the 
 circumstances of their arrival were characteristic of the 
 time and the administration. 
 
 The Chancellor, on being turned back from the 
 House of Lords, instead of going home had driven at 
 once to the Castle, where the Viceroy had a large 
 dinner party, and informed him of the condition of 
 the city. Never was ruler more taken by surprise. 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 253 
 
 L(}vd had come from England full of conciliation 
 
 and love for the Irish Catholics. Celtic nationality, 
 after a paralysis of half a century, had been warmed 
 into life by Lord Chesterfield, during his celebrated 
 
 five years of office. Lord had pursued the same 
 
 policy, and had just brought the strictest orders with 
 him from the English Cabinet to persevere. No kind 
 of severity was to be shown to his Majesty's good 
 Catholic subjects, who were to be wooed back into 
 their allegiance on Lord Chesterfield's principles. 
 When the Chancellor, therefore, insisted that the riot 
 should be put down by force, and immediately, 
 
 Lord felt his hands tied by instructions so 
 
 peremptory. Force, if used at all, must be used by 
 the Civil power, not by himself. He enquired 
 anxiously where the Mayor was, and desired an Aide- 
 de-Camp to go in search of him. 
 
 " You will have no difficulty in finding the Mayor," 
 said a gentleman who had just entered from the 
 street. '' I left his worship at the Green five minutes 
 ago. He was sitting on his horse, telling the mob 
 how much he admired their patriotism, and asking 
 them if they would be so good as to go home." 
 
 " Mr. Mayor," said the Viceroy, as the city 
 functionary entered the dining-room, " What is the 
 meaning of this disturbance ? You are the chief 
 magistrate in this city. You are responsible for the 
 keeping of the peace. I insist that this insolent con- 
 tempt of authority be suppressed on the spot. Call 
 up your constables, arrest the ringleaders, and bid the 
 rest of the crowd return to their homes. I insist, I 
 tell you. There is not an instant to be lost." 
 
 " My lord," said the Mayor, " it is true some of the 
 poor misguided cratures yonder are a little misbe- 
 
254 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 having themselves. But your lordship may believe 
 me it is no harm they are meanin^^". They are only a 
 little excited like and expressing their feelings. And 
 why would'nt they, for the matter of that ? Sure 
 they have feelings like the best of us. I have been 
 down spaking to them as your lordship would have 
 me. I told them to be off to their beds, and they 
 should have all they were asking for, as 't\\'as fit they 
 should, for it was mighty rasonable every word of it, 
 , and well pleased the lads were to hear me say that 
 same, and shewed no disrespect to authority at all." 
 
 " Misguided people ! " exclaimed the Viceroy indig- 
 nantly. " Innocent creatures over-excited, and ex- 
 pressing their feelings ! And here is my Lord 
 Chancellor nearly murdered among them, and the 
 House of Peers in possession of armed ruffians. What 
 language is this ? Call out the city force, Mr. Mayor 
 I repeat, and no more words about it." 
 
 " Indeed, your lordship," said the Mayor, " I may 
 call as ye tell me ; but the force ye are spaking of is 
 but a company of fifty or sixty old bedesmen that can 
 just crawl the rounds, and where would be the use of 
 sending the like of them into the streets this night ? 
 Surely every mother's son of them is stowed away 
 safe in his own house between the blankets at this 
 moment, out of sound of harm. And where better 
 would they be ? For if they got their heads broke to- 
 night where would be the use of them to-morrow ? 
 and sorry they'd be to be unequal to their duties." 
 
 " This is intolerable," cried the Viceroy. " Tell the 
 guards in attendance to get to horse," he said to an 
 Orderly in waiting. " Let a hundred men ride down 
 at once to the Green. 
 
 "That v/ill be force sufficient to enable vou to deal 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 255 
 
 with the disturbance, Mr. Mayor," he said, turning to the 
 magistrate ; '' and it concerns my honour and yours that 
 the leaders in this business be arrested and punished. 
 You will accompany the troops. You will read the 
 Riot Act, and if the mob does not then disperse you 
 will know what to do. Why do you stand hesitat- 
 ing ? " he continued, as the city functionary showed 
 no signs of complying. '' Do you not know that you 
 are answerable for the peace of the city ? Is the law 
 to be obeyed, or is it to be broken with impunity ? " 
 
 '' Your lordship speaks of the law," answered the 
 Mayor ; " but the law is a quare thing, and it is well 
 for us to know where we are before we meddle or 
 make with it. I'm thinking your lordship doesn't 
 rightly understand the law of this country, for all your 
 having been so long the ruler over us. And no 
 wonder, for your lordship is a stranger. Ye come 
 over for a fortnight in the year to draw your salary, 
 but ye find the other side of the Channel pleasanter 
 living, with the fine park and mansion ye have there. 
 You tell me to read the Riot Act, and you are not 
 aware that we have no Riot Act at all among us, the 
 pacible nation that we are. I have no more power to 
 direct the troops to act than your lordship has ; and 
 if your lordship will have the poor people shot down 
 for the privileges of Parliament, you may ^w^ the 
 order yourself" 
 
 The trampling in the court-}'ard and the clanking 
 of sabres announced that the dragoons were mounting, 
 though what they were to do was as far from being 
 settled as ever. The Viceroy, with the fear of his 
 masters at home upon him, was determined to take 
 no responsibility upon himself if he could possibly 
 help it. The Mayor was equally determined that the 
 
256 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 Executive Government should not throw off a duty 
 upon him which really belonged to themselves. The 
 Mayor had the best of the argument ; and the un- 
 happy Viceroy wrung his hands as the shouts came 
 swaying up in the night air. As a middle course, the 
 dragoons were directed to ride down to the Houses of 
 Parliament, and then remain drawn up to see whether 
 the mob would be frightened. There was just a hope 
 that the sight of them would restore order. At first 
 it seemed as if the desired effect would be produced. 
 The horses, and the flashing of steel in the torchlight, 
 shook the nerves of the mass of the crowd, who but 
 half knew why they had come together ; and those 
 who were in the front rank and nearest to danger 
 began to slink a^^ay. They seen recovered heart, 
 however, when they found the scldiers meddled with 
 no one, but halted and continued stationary. 
 
 " You are come to look at the show, then," said a 
 big man, who had been active in the attack upon the 
 Chancellor. " Mighty fine ye are in }-our lace and 
 gold, and it is pleased we are to see ye on the people's 
 side. And kindly welcome are you too, young 
 gentleman," he said, turning to the Cornet in com- 
 mand, " if it is not a woman that I am speaking to 
 as it is like I may be, to judge by the down that's on 
 the purty cheek of ye." 
 
 He patted the officer's charger as he spoke. The 
 young Englishman touched the horse with the spur, 
 which sprang forward and trampled on the man's 
 foot, making him howl with pain. Immediately a 
 shower of stones rattled about the dragoons' helmets. 
 Five or six of them Avere struck in the face ; and 
 galled by the blows and by the insulting cries which 
 rose round them, they were handling the hilts of the 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 2^7 
 
 sabres, when at the moment the corps from the College 
 appeared on the scene and called off the attention 
 of the mob. Well led, and eager for a fight, the 
 students struck in with a will. They were armed only 
 with sticks ; but, like the Scythian chiefs, who used 
 their hunting whips to suppress a serv-ile insurrection, 
 the young Anglo-Irish gentlemen would have dis- 
 dained to employ nobler weapons on a race whom 
 they despised ; and had the occasion been an ordinary 
 one, and if the odds had not been too heavily dispro- 
 portioned, they would swiftly have cleared the square. 
 But the mob were ten to one, and for some reason 
 were exceptionally determined. Many of them had 
 cutlasses, and some had pistols ; and Goring was 
 forced to hold the students in hand, watching his 
 opportunity, and noting scornfully the inaction of the 
 military, too like what he was familiar with in Kerr}-, 
 when a fresh party of horse, led by a distinguished- 
 looking man in a General's uniform, dashed in upon 
 the scene. 
 
 The Viceroy had been beaten by the Mayor. Eng- 
 lish official timidity had been no match for Irish 
 cunning, and half an hour was wasted after it had 
 become known that the mob had not dispersed, and 
 were attacking the first detachment of troops, in dis- 
 cussing whether they ought not to be withdrawn. 
 The commander-in-chief of the English garrison in 
 
 Ireland was the celebrated Lord A . He was 
 
 one of the Viceroy's guests for the evening, and had 
 listened with angry impatience to the useless argu- 
 ment. An officer, whom he had sent out to make 
 enqxiiries, came back with the news that stones were 
 still flying. One of the men had been struck from his 
 horse, and it was feared had been killed. The rest 
 
 17 
 
258 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 were becoming ungovernable, and, if they were not to 
 act, were demanding to be recalled. The Viceroy was 
 still wrangling with the Ma)'or, who had entrenched 
 himself and could not be moved. 
 
 *' You will make nothing of this fellow, sir," said 
 
 Lord A , with a look of contempt. " The rascal 
 
 only wants to gain time. In a few minutes the mob 
 will be in possession of the whole town this side of 
 the river, and we shall have them looking in upon us 
 here. It is never safe to turn your back upon an 
 Irishman. Leave it to me. Give me orders, or let 
 me act on my own responsibility. I am not afraid. 
 Unless this riot is stopped, the Castle will be on fire 
 before the morning." 
 
 "Go then, A ," acquiesced the poor Viceroy. 
 
 " Go. Do the best you can. Onl)^ be gentle. No 
 unnecessary violence." 
 
 " Never fear, my Lord," answered the General. " I 
 will be gentle as a turtle-dove. Violence !" he muttered, 
 as he rushed downstairs, and sprang on his horse, 
 cr.lling the remaining dragoons to follow him. " It is 
 not violence which leads to scenes like this. It is the 
 imbecility which tempts the wretched fools into believ- 
 ing that we are afraid of them, and deludes them into 
 destruction." 
 
 With drawn sabres, they galloped down to join 
 their comrades, trampling on everyone that got in 
 their way. The company which had been so long 
 suffering under the stone throwing, received them 
 
 with a shout of relief. For one moment Lord A 
 
 paused. He seized a ringleader by the collar, dragged 
 him back into his own ranks, and ordered a sergeant 
 to pinion him. In a clear, high voice, which could be 
 heard above the roar of the crowd, he gave them a 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOV. 259 
 
 last chance to disperse. He was answered by a paving 
 stone which struck his corselet, and shook him in his 
 saddle, and at once he gave the order to charge. 
 
 All was ended then. The Irish are only dangerous 
 to those who are afraid of them. Shrieking, yelling, 
 swearing, they wavered, they broke ; they fled up th2 
 side streets, both detachments of dragoons hewing at 
 them in full pursuit, and the students avenging their 
 own broken heads on the scattering masses. The 
 students share in the punishment was a merciful one, 
 for they had only their blackthorns to strike with. It 
 must be allowed to the soldiers' credit, too, considering 
 how they had been tried, that the women and the old 
 and the young they touched only with the flat of their 
 swords, reserving edge and point for those who had 
 been active in n^ischief. A corporal, however, was 
 unluckily killed by a bullet from a window, as he 
 alighted to save an infant who had fallen among 
 the horses' hoofs. Some rascal used the opportu- 
 nity to take deliberate aim at him, and shot him 
 dead with the child in his arms. Furious after 
 this, they gave little quarter. The narrow lanes 
 were littered with bodies. The crowd had been 
 so dense that it could not immediately get itself 
 dispersed, and half-an-hour passed after the orders 
 to the troops, before the last straggler had been 
 cut clown, or had disappeared into alley or door- 
 way. Then the torches were quenched : the streets of 
 Dublin became again dark and silent and deserted, and 
 the singular outbreak of the subterranean fire which 
 startled even the great Pitt, in the midst of his Im- 
 perial dreams, and forced him to give a momentary 
 attention to England's miserable satellite, was for this 
 time suppressed and driven in. 
 
26c THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 " I HAVE come to Dublin," Colonel Goring said to 
 his host, as they sat at breakfast the next morning in 
 Fitzherbert's rooms at Trinity, " to obtain help in 
 keeping order in Bantry Bay. I might as well have 
 stayed at home, and spared myself the journey. You 
 have not enough of the article for your own con- 
 sumption." 
 
 " My dear cousin," replied Fitzherbert, " the thing 
 called order, you ought to know by this time, is an 
 exotic over here. It has been imported from England, 
 but it will not grow. It suits neither soil nor climate. 
 What we are to-day, we have been for a thousand 
 years, neither worse nor better. If the. English 
 wanted order in Ireland, they should have left none of 
 us alive. We were but half a million when the Tudor 
 princes began interfering. At that time they might 
 have made a clean sweep, and the world would have 
 been the better for the want of us. We are a beggarly 
 race wherever we go, and what you can't mend you had 
 better end. What ailed the English to be meddling 
 with us at all ? We were here before Noah's flood. 
 The breed survived it somehow. As we were be- 
 fore, so we continued, fighting, robbing, burning, 
 breaking each other's heads. But we killed each 
 other down, and nature never meant that there 
 should be more than a few of us in the world ; 
 and you English must needs come and keep the 
 peace as you call it, and now there are three millions 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 2C1 
 
 of us, and by-and-bye there will be twenty millions, 
 and fine neighbours we are likely to be to you. 
 
 " Shame on you, Fitz, to speak so of God's crea- 
 tures," said the Colonel. " But what set them wild 
 last night ? Powder does not blow up unless there is 
 a spark to light it. What has the Parliament been 
 doing that they are all in such a rage ? I thought the 
 politicians were all going in for patrioti ■ m just now." 
 
 Patriotism ? Yes ! Patriotism of the Hibernian 
 order. The country has been badly treated, and 
 is poor and miserable. This is the patriot's stock 
 in trade. Does he want it mended ? Not he. His 
 own occuptation would be gone. He thunders in the 
 ears of the Government, till the Government bribes 
 him into silence, and then he has got what he wanted, 
 and the poor devils who hoped something might 
 be done for them, are dropped back into the mud. 
 
 Last session B was the loudest of the pack. 
 
 Pie has been promised a Peerage, and a pension of 
 ^2,000 a year, and now he is prepared to tell the House 
 of Commons that all is as it should be. A good man 
 
 B , by the bye, one of the best of the lot. We 
 
 must introduce you to him. Well, he and all the 
 rest have their price, and will sell themselves when 
 they can get it. They are suspected of being willing 
 to sell the Parliament itself, and the good people in 
 Dublin don't like it 
 
 " And they have got their heads broken for their 
 pains," Goring answered, " and 5ome twenty of them 
 they tell me have been killed. The Lord help them ! 
 My business I fear, will speed but badly, when you 
 can manage no better at your own doors ; but I must 
 do what I can. I can hardly, I suppose, hope to be 
 admitted to the Viceroy," 
 
252 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 " It would do you no good, if you could. The 
 Viceroy is seldom here for more than a fortnight in 
 two years. Our real masters are the three Lords 
 Justices, Lord Kildare, the Speaker of the House of 
 Commons and the Primate. Kildare is shuffled aside 
 by the other two. The Speaker and the Primate do 
 not love each other, but they have come to terms for 
 their mutual advantage. The Primate is the strongest 
 and holds the reins. In spiritual matters he is 
 despotic ; in secular, nearly so ; but he is checked 
 by a fear of a possible coalition against him of the 
 Speaker and Kildare. 
 
 " My special business lies with the Primate," Goring 
 said, " and I mean to call on him this morning. If I 
 am to keep my Cornishmen about me at Dunboy, I 
 must get a license for a chapel for them. It is no 
 great indulgence. They are entitled to it by the law, 
 and they have earned it by their services. If they 
 cannot serve God in their own way, they will go to 
 America or back to England, and if they leave me 
 I cannot stay there myself. What is the character of 
 this powerful gentleman ? " 
 
 '' They call him here the Beauty of Holiness, " said 
 Fitz-Herbert. " But that I am forbidden by high 
 authority to speak evil of the rulers of the people, 
 I would add, myself, that he was one of Swift's high- 
 waymen. You will remember that the Dean of St. 
 Patrick's said the Government appointed excellent 
 persons to the Irish sees, but it always happened that 
 on their way to Bristol they fell among thieves, who 
 stole their Letters Patent, crossed to Dublin, and got 
 installed in their places. George Stone never took 
 the road, that I heard of, but if half the stories are 
 true which are told of him, it was not because 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 263 
 
 he was more honestly employed. Our present 
 Viceroy pushed him forward. He was pretty to look 
 at when he was young;. They called him the Duke's 
 Ganymede." 
 
 " I don't ask you what the world believes about 
 him. I ask you how much of all this you believe ? " 
 
 " Well, a man does not rise in these days to be an 
 Archbishop and Lord Justice of Ireland with nothing 
 more to recommend him than a Duke's patronage. 
 George Stone's grandfather kept the gaol at 
 Winchester, and grew rich, it was said, by extorting 
 money out of the prisoners. The family fortunes 
 were on the ascending scale. The son of the master 
 of the gaol became a banker and advanced loans to 
 spendthrift young lords. Connections which he thus 
 formed behind the scenes enabled him to push his 
 own son forward, who, among his other gifts, had a 
 face of singular beauty. The youth made the most 
 of his opportunities. He was clever, proud, ambitious 
 perhaps unprincipled, skilful in flattering the great 
 and in making stepping-stones of those below him. 
 He was put into the Church, as the readiest road to 
 preferment, and he adopted the high, legal, Anglican 
 uniform. They gave him an Irish living, and directly 
 after a Secretary's place at the Castle. Being obsequious 
 and useful, he rose next to a Deanery, and then a 
 Bishopric, and when the last Archbishop of Armagh 
 died, he was advanced, while still far below middle age, 
 to the Primacy. To us in Dublin he is known as 
 intriguing, arrogant and overbearing. Kildare, who 
 hates him, calls him another Wolsey. He is lavish of 
 money, grasping always at power and steadily devoted 
 to the views of his masters in England, whatever 
 those views may be. His chief pleasure is in 
 
264 THE TWO CHIEI^S OF DUN BOY. 
 
 corrupting- patriots, in which he is remarkably 
 successful. Religion he is supposed to have none, 
 but to be unaware of his deficiency, since he does no 
 know what it means. Church law, the apostolical 
 succession and the official costume generally of the 
 Established order, he understands very well and can 
 prove to you that he descends straight from St 
 Patrick. 
 
 To the Colonel's inquiry whether this astonishing 
 Prelate would be likely to see him. Fitz-Herbert 
 answered neither yes nor no ; he could not tell : but 
 at least the Colonel might try, and he let him go, with 
 a few formal instructions, to make the experiment. 
 The great man's residence was a palatial building in 
 St. Stephen's Green. It stood in the midst of a large 
 court or garden, which was approached from the road 
 through massive gates of bronze, while from the 
 court to the house itself, was a broad flight of stairs. 
 Heathen gods and goddesses standing on pedestals in 
 the lightest costume indicated that the Archbishop's 
 tastes were rather sensual than spiritual ; and the sen- 
 tinels at the doors and at the gates kept guard for him 
 more as Lord Justice than as Primate. Viewed from 
 outside there was nothing to suggest an ecclesiastical 
 residence, unless the Church militant was indicated in 
 the file of soldiers, who, in consequence of last night's 
 disturbance, had been introduced into the hall. About 
 the household there was an air of disquiet. Officers 
 in uniform were passing in and out ; and mounted 
 orderlies were bringing or taking messages. Colonel 
 Goring had some difficulty in prevailing on a lackey 
 to take in his name and the lackey was himself 
 evidently surprised, when he brought back word that 
 the Colonel was to be admitted. 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF EUXBOV. 265 
 
 The Lord Primate or the Lord Justice, whichever 
 he preferred to be called, had but lately risen. He 
 was sitting in a large, handsomely-furnished library, 
 sipping his chocolate. Letters and reports lay open, 
 scattered about his table. He was himself glancing 
 through the morning newspaper. In his hand was 
 the Advertiser^ a new paper just brought out by 
 Mr. Lucas, a popular tribune, while the Citizens 
 Journal lay on the hearthrug as if impatiently flung 
 aside. Though he had passed middle life, George 
 Stone had not yet lost the traces of the beauty 
 to which he owed his fortune, and his dress was 
 evidently designed to make the most of what re- 
 mained. His costume was a long, loose, robe of 
 purple silk, lined with ermine, which set off his height. 
 Round his neck was a gold chain, from which a cross 
 was suspended of pearls and emicralds, and a ring, 
 with one splendid diamond in it, glittered on his 
 delicate hand. At his wrists were elaborate frills oi 
 Flemish lace, and on his feet purple silk stockings 
 and satin shoes, with gold buckles and rosettes. His 
 appearance was that of a luxurious gentleman, with 
 the faintest possible indication of a dignitary of the 
 ruling church. He was fifty years old, but so well 
 cared for that he might have been taken for twenty 
 years younger. His closely-shaved features were as 
 regular as those of a statue of a Greek god. His com- 
 plexion was pale. The grey m his hair, if grey streaks 
 had yet appeared there, was concealed by the powder. 
 His eyes were dark-brown and softly brilliant, and his 
 voice when he spoke, was a flute-toned tenor. 
 
 He did not rise when Colonel Goring entered, but 
 smiled as if he had expected to see him and knew the 
 purpose of his visit. He motioned him to a seat, as a 
 
266 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 god might motion a mortal who had strayed within 
 the Palace at Olympus, " Colonel Goring," he said, 
 " I am glad to see you. I heard that you were in the 
 town and 1 looked for a call from you. You come 
 early — earlier perhaps than I was prepared for — but 
 no matter. I much wished to speak to you." 
 
 The Colonel bowed. The Archbishop continued : 
 " I understand that you were a witness of the un- 
 happy scene which occurred last night in front of the 
 Houses of Parliament, I am at this moment, as you 
 may easily suppose, intensely occupied with what has 
 taken place. As an officer and a gentleman you will 
 give me an impartial account of what you yourself saw, 
 I may add that your reputation as an active and efficient 
 magistrate in your own district has not escaped my 
 notice either. I have been for some time anxious for 
 a word with you about that incident with which you 
 were concerned at Glengariff, You are staying, I 
 think, at the College ? " 
 
 "My Lord," replied the Colonel, " I arrived in Dublin 
 last night only, on a visit to a relative who is one of 
 the Fellows. It is quite true that I was a spectator of 
 the riot to which you refer. I saw the beginning of 
 it, and I saw the bloodshed in which it unfortunately 
 ended. Very sorry am 1 that the lawless spirit which 
 prevails in so many other parts of Ireland should have 
 shown itself so close to the seat of Government. But 
 how or why my presence was taken notice of, and so 
 brought under your lordship's observation, I am at a 
 loss to conjecture." 
 
 " You do not know that you are a notorious person, 
 Colonel Goring," rejoined the Prelate. " More eyes are 
 on you than you are aware of. Do not think that I 
 am finding fault with you. It was by mere accident 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 267 
 
 that your name came before me. The Provost 
 mentioned it in a report which he has just sent in on 
 the conduct of the students. But this and your own 
 opportune cah enables me to speak to you on a sub- 
 ject very serious always, and now of graver moment 
 than ever." 
 
 He paused for an instant, looking steadily in 
 Goring's face, and then went on : " Such scenes as that 
 which you witnessed last night, are fortunately of 
 rare occurrence in this city. Many years have passed 
 since there has been any disturbance here which has 
 required the interference of the military. We had no 
 warning of what was coming. There was no dis- 
 content among the people that we knew of, yet some 
 cause of course there must have been. We have 
 been enquiring anxiously into what that cause was, 
 and we believe that we have discovered it. It has 
 been proved to us beyond a doubt that the most 
 violent section of the mob consisted of artizans from 
 the Earl of Meath's Liberty. As you are not, perhaps, 
 sufficiently acquainted with the city to understand the 
 meaning of this, I must inform you that the workmen 
 in that quarter are almost to a man what we call 
 Swaddlers, Protestant Dissenters, whom we owe to 
 those most mischievous of modern agitators, Wesley 
 and Whitfield. Under pretence of preaching a purer 
 gospel, those gentlemen have revived the rebellious 
 and independent spirit which dishonoured the Refor- 
 mation by its excesses and led in the last century to 
 Revolution and Regicide. That the evil seed has been 
 brought hither is a frightful addition to our other 
 difficulties. It is fortunate, however, that the true 
 character of this sect should have so early and evi- 
 dently betrayed itself. I speak frankly, Colonel 
 
268 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 Goring. I do not conceal from you that you have 
 yourself been reported to me as showing favour to 
 these people in your own district. "That }-ou 
 should be personally connected with such miscreants 
 is of course impossible ; as an officer and a county 
 magistrate you are necessarily a communicant in 
 the Established Church ; you are a gentleman and 
 a man of honour, and can have nothing in common 
 with ignorant and vulgar fanatics. But I am told 
 that you have introduced some of this very rabble 
 out of England to work your mines and fisheries. 
 You have even applied for a license for them, under 
 the Toleration Act, to have their own preachers and 
 form of worship. I trust that you will take warning 
 from what you have seen and will send them back to 
 their own country at your earliest opportunity." 
 
 Colonel Goring had seen too much of life to be 
 easily surprised ; but the charge against the unfor- 
 tunate Wesley ans took away his breath. Of all 
 imaginable suggestions on the origin of the riot, that 
 it could be connected with Protestant Dissent was 
 the most wildly impossible. Finding, however, that 
 the Archbishop was realh^ in earnest, he said : 
 
 " My lord, not more than a few hours have passed 
 since the disturbance was at its height. There has 
 been little time for examination. May I ask what 
 proof you have obtained of the guilt of the parties 
 whom you mention ? Your Grace began with asking 
 me to tell you what I saw myself. Certainly nothing 
 that I saw would bear out the view which you are 
 now expressing." 
 
 *' Colonel Goring," replied the Primate shortly, "lam 
 not accustomed to use words at random. It is enough 
 '', at an active inquiry has been carried on during the 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 269 
 
 night, and the information brought to me is uni- 
 formly of the same complexion. The riot originated 
 in the Earl of Meath's Liberties, where these anarchists 
 are known to congregate. My agents are perfectly 
 trustworthy. The inhabitants of those streets are 
 well known to them, and they cannot be mistaken. 
 We are so satisfied that we are on the right track 
 that my secretaries are already writing their report, 
 and it will leave for England by the yacht this 
 evening." 
 
 " You may think it unbecoming my Lord, in such a 
 person as myself, to question the propriety of so 
 hasty a decision. Your Grace is better judge than 
 I can be of what it is fit for )-ou to do. But as a 
 Magistrate, I am not without experience in such 
 matters. If the facts be as you say, your agents 
 must be able to lay hands on some, at least, of the 
 ringleaders. Would it not be right that they should 
 be arrested and questioned ? A good many persons 
 were unfortunately killed. The bodies can surely be 
 identified." 
 
 " Further enquiry is not necessary," answered the 
 Primate impatiently. " You say you have had ex- 
 perience. Then you know enough of the people of 
 Ireland to be aware that the last thing which you 
 can get from any of them is the truth. One will 
 lie, and another will lie, till facts are all lost in lies. 
 We are satisfied, and that is enough." 
 
 Goring opened his eyes even wider than before. 
 He admitted the general truth of the Archbishop's 
 indictment, but he observed that it applied equally 
 to the evidence which had been made the basis of 
 the report. " My Lord," he said, " I say frankly 
 that I mistrust information so quickly collected 
 
270 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 and at once so positive and so consistent. It 
 savours to me of a preconceived conclusion, and 
 reminds me of the old story of the wolf and the lamb. 
 But I must not argue with your Grace. I will 
 proceed, if you will allow me, to the particular 
 business which has brought me to Dublin. Your Grace 
 has yourself alluded to it in terms which I fear 
 promise ill for my success, and if you are right in 
 your interpretation of what happened last night, I 
 can hardly hope for a favourable hearing. I will, 
 however, be as brief as I can." 
 
 " The briefer the better, Colonel Goring," said the 
 Primate, who, knowing what was coming, had intended 
 his declamation against the Dissenters to be a reply 
 to any fiivour which might be asked of him, and, 
 provoked by the Colonel's incredulity, would have now 
 closed the interview. " The briefer the better, for I 
 have a busy morning before me." 
 
 " A few sentences will be sufficient," he replied. 
 " My residence, as your Grace knows, is at Dunboy 
 on Bantry Bay, and I have got under my charge a 
 hundred miles of coast line. The Bay is a general 
 haunt of smugglers, privateers, French recruiting 
 officers and rebel agents and incendiaries. Half 
 the people in the country are in league with 
 them, and the other half, who wish for a 
 quiet life and an unburnt roof over their heads, 
 prefer not to meddle with them. My duty is 
 to maintain the law, and to bring to justice those 
 who violate it. The force allowed me is wholly 
 inadequate. I have applied for an increase, and I 
 have been answered that I cannot have it, and I must 
 manage as well as I can with my own resources. 
 This is v.diat I have tried to do." 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 271 
 
 The Primate turned over his letters, drummed 
 with his fingers on the table, and gave other signs of 
 unconcealed impatience. " Colonel Goring," he said, 
 *' I have nothing to do with the Revenue Board. 
 You must address yourself to the Speaker, or to the 
 Commisioners of Customs. I have more important 
 matters to attend to." 
 
 " Pardon me, my Lord," answered Goring. " Most 
 unwillingly do I intrude upon your Grace's time. 
 But your Grace and no one else can assist me. You 
 alluded to the Protestant families whom I have intro- 
 duced upon my estate. They are the persons in 
 whose behalf I have to trouble you, and in spite of the 
 unfavourable opinion which you appear to have 
 formed of the characters of these poor people, I still 
 hope that I may induce you to modify your judgment. 
 
 " When at the time that I succeeded to my propert}^ 
 I was also given the charge of the Bay, I found 
 it would be impossible for me to do my duty there 
 with only the ordinary Water Guard. The coast was 
 beset with smugglers and pirates. I asked for a 
 small Revenue Sloop, and for a few months a Sloop 
 was allowed me. It was then removed, and I was 
 told that it would not return. On this I then went to 
 work with my own means. I established a fishery. I 
 opened a copper-mine. I introduced those families of 
 whom your Grace was pleased to speak, P'-otestants 
 from Cornwall and from Ulster. Your Grace dis- 
 trusts them. They were selected for me by friends 
 on whose judgment I could rely, and I have found 
 them the very best of men that I have ever known, 
 brave, faithful, loyal, industrious. They have taken root. 
 They have opened out the wealth of land and sea. 
 They have thriven and prospered. With their help 
 
272 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 I have checked the smugglers and almost suppressed 
 them. I have restored order in the Bay. I have a body 
 of men with me who can be entirely relied on in case 
 of local disturbance or a French landing. Some of 
 them are Calvinists from the North of Ireland The 
 rest I must admit are what your Grace terms 
 Swaddlers. They are men who were recovered (I fear 
 I shall fall under your Grace's censure in what I am 
 about to say) — who were recovered from practical 
 Atheism by Wesley and Whitfield, and were brought 
 under the influence of Christianity. If those in Dublin 
 who belong to the same sect are indeed as degenerate 
 and unworthy as your Grace supposes, my colonists 
 at Dunboy have nothing but the name in common 
 with them. They are earnest, God-fearing men, and 
 if they have formed themselves into a separate com- 
 munion, it is only because they were left in darkness 
 by the Church of England clerg\', and were brought 
 to the light by other means. They cannot live 
 without their religious services, and they claim as 
 they are entitled to do by the law, the benefit 
 of the Toleration Act. The Bishop of the Diocese 
 refuses to allow their chapel to be registered. The 
 grand jury of the county refer me to your Grace, 
 and I c.innot believe that a request so reasonable will 
 be refused. I must add that the concession is a 
 condition of their remaining with me. If their 
 petition is again rejected, they will emigrate to the 
 American plantations." 
 
 The listless indifference had passed out of the Arch- 
 bishop's face while the Colonel was speaking. His 
 eyes flashed, his lips quivered. He made not the 
 least attempt to restrain or conceal his anger. " Their 
 petition is again rejected," he said ; "and let me add 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 273 
 
 that I am astonished at your presenting it. The 
 benefit of the Toleration Act to which you refer is 
 hmited to those of whose loyalty to the Crown there 
 is no suspicion, and of the loyalty of these God-fearing 
 Christians of yours we have no assurance at all. From 
 what I hear of them they are like the Fifth Monarchy 
 men of the Usurper. I am astonished that )'OU, w^io 
 call )'Ourself a member of the Establishment— who 
 have even built a church and endowed it, such is 
 your consistency — should desire to retain such a set of 
 hypocrites about you. If I could be more surprised 
 at anything, it would be that you should have expected 
 countenance in such an enterprise from me. Pro- 
 testant Dissent, sir, from the first hours of its appear- 
 ance, has been the nursery of sedition. To \\'hat it 
 led in England I need not remind you. Of the effects 
 of it in this country we have had too recent and too 
 bitter experience." 
 
 " I have heard it said, my lord," answered Goring, 
 " that the Protestant Apprentices who defended Derry 
 were not generally members of the Episcopal com^- 
 munion ; but I must not presume to contradict your 
 Grace on a question of history. There may be bad 
 men in all communities, religious or civil. My own 
 request is in behalf of a set of persons who are 
 individually known to myself, for whose conduct and 
 character I can myself answer, and who have stood 
 by me in my difficult duties with courage and fidelity. 
 I ask no more for them than has been allowed since 
 the Revolution to Nonconformists in England, and 
 which it was supposed that the recent Act of the Irish 
 Parliament had conceded in this country." 
 
 " You will answer ? " said the Primate, flushing 
 with displeasure, " and who, sir, I am obliged to ask, will 
 
 18 
 
274 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOW 
 
 answer for yourself? We hear of you — you, an officer 
 of the Crown — pubHcly fighting a duel. We hear of 
 you parading your religious indifference by building a 
 church in one place and a chapel in another. When 
 you speak of those persons standing by you, you 
 allude, I presume, to your late exploit at Glengariff 
 There are two versions of that story. We have been 
 given to understand that the vessel which came into 
 Glengariff harbour was a French trader under French 
 colours, that her boats v\^ere sent on shore for water 
 and provisions, that they were fired into by a party 
 under your command, and that many lives were lost 
 in consequence. Complaints have been made to us 
 by the French Consul of this performance of yours. 
 In the present critical relations between France and 
 Great Britain, it is unfortunate, to use a light word, 
 that a fresh occasion of dispute should have arisen. 
 Your zeal, sir, in the suppression of smuggling is well 
 known to us ; but it is possible to be too busy even in 
 the discharge of a duty." 
 
 Colonel Goring smiled. " If you have any charge 
 to bring against me, my lord," he said, " let me be 
 called to my answer. It might be enough to say that 
 this same harmless trader, when overtaken by a King's 
 ship, three days later, refused to give an account of 
 herself and fired upon his Majesty's flag. She was 
 not merely a smuggler — she was landing arms for an 
 intended insurrection. I have my evidence to pro- 
 duce. If it is insufficient let the law punish me." 
 
 " We do not want your evidence, sir," retorted the 
 Primate, '' or the bad blood which the production of it 
 would raise. You may be right or you may be wrong 
 about the character of the vessel which you meddled 
 with. I decid-e neither for you nor against you. But 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 275 
 
 at a time when the ill-feeHng between the different 
 classes of the population in this country is dying 
 away, when we are receiving the most gratifying 
 assurances of loyalty from the leading Roman 
 Catholics, and his Majesty's Government is con- 
 templating a relaxation of the penal laws, nothing 
 can be worse timed or more to be deprecated than the 
 breaking out of these petty local conflicts, and the 
 parade of them before the world. For this reason, and 
 for many other reasons which I need not enter upon, 
 we deprecate also the re-establishment in the South 
 of those Protestant colonies, which provoke irritation 
 and violence, and keep alive angry memories. If 
 these people of yours wish to remain in Ireland they 
 must conform to the Church established by the law. 
 You cannot have two laws in the same country, and 
 you cannot have two religions. I know what you 
 will say. We tolerate the Presbyterians in the North 
 against the judgment of the wisest of the Bench of 
 Bishops ; but still we do tolerate them. We grant 
 licenses to the Roman Catholic priests, we tolerate 
 Quakers, and the innocent fools who call themselves 
 Methodists. For myself, I regret all these concessions 
 to Protestant sects. They are a legacy to us from 
 unsettled times, which I hope in time may be with- 
 drawn ; but we endure them among us as long as 
 they are politically harmless. But we do not tolerate, 
 and we never will, the Anabaptists or Socinians, whose 
 principles undermine the foundation of civil society. 
 We do not tolerate the random congregations of paltry 
 and illiterate upstarts, who imagine that they are com- 
 petent to form a religion for themselves. Such sects 
 as these are the spawn of the seed left behind by 
 anarchy and regicide, and we regard them as the 
 
 18* 
 
276 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 worst, perhaps as the only serious, danger which now 
 threatens the peace of Ireland." 
 
 Colonel Goring listened calmly to this impetuous 
 invective. Strongly tempted though he was to speak 
 his mind, he restrained himself; and drawing two 
 scrolls of paper from his pocket he said quietly : 
 
 *' Again I must decline to follow your Grace across 
 so wide a field. But you say that the Protestants 
 scattered about Munster must attend the parish 
 churches, and be content with the ministrations of the 
 parish clergyman. Will your Grace be kind enough 
 to glance over these schedules ? " 
 
 Impatiently the Archbishop took the papers and 
 ran his eyes over them. They contained lists of the 
 Episcopal churches in the Counties of Cork and 
 Kerry, with a description attached to each of its 
 present condition. In the entire Diocese of Ross 
 there were but five Parish churches in sufficient 
 repair to allow service to be carried on in them. The 
 rest were roofless and in ruins. In the seventy-nine 
 parishes in Kerry, in all of which were remains of 
 churches where men and women had met and prayed 
 together, all but eleven were going to pieces, roof and 
 doors gon^, and windows fallen out. In the eleven 
 which were still weather-proof, there was service in 
 only six. The rest were deserted. The benefices 
 were attached to canonries, or belonged to some non- 
 resident incumbent ; not so much as a curate was 
 kept for decency and form's sake ; and the only repre- 
 sentative of the Established Church, which no .parish 
 was without, was the Proctor, the official who collected 
 the tithes, who received a nominal stipend of five or 
 ten shillings a year, and paid himself for the risk of 
 his own life by his extortions on the peasantry. 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 277 
 
 '' Your Grace will observe," the Colonel said, "that 
 with the exception of the church which I built myself 
 at Glengariff, there is not one where there is any 
 service within twenty miles of me. Glengariff is a 
 long day's journey for women and children, and in 
 refusing to allow my people their chapel you are con- 
 demning the majority of them to live like heathens. 
 Nor can it be said that there are no means of making 
 better provision for them ; for the tithes are extorted 
 to the last corn-sheaf or potato sack, while the poor 
 people who pay them have built a mass house in ever\' 
 parish and support a priest of their own." 
 
 Something which resembled a blush did for the 
 moment tint the Primate's cheek ; but if blush it wa\ 
 it was the blush of anger rather than shame. 
 
 " Colonel Goring," he said haughtily, " to what 
 purpose is this ? Confident though \-ou are in \'our 
 own judgment, you do not I presume think yourself 
 wiser than the Legislature which has decided on the 
 Ecclesiastical organization adapted for this Island ? 
 The Established Church of Ireland is the direct 
 representative of the ancient Church of St. Patrick, 
 It has been recognized and maintained in authority 
 by the three estates of the Realm, and if the build- 
 ings have fallen out of repair, it is because the gentry 
 have neglected their duties, and the old inhabitants 
 have persisted in their ignorant attachment to the 
 unreformed Ritual. We know that we, and only 
 we, are in possession of the truth, and we are 
 confident that the poor misguided people must at 
 length recognize the precious privileges which none 
 but we can offer them. Meanwhile the tithes you 
 speak of are the Church's property. If the peasantry 
 refu' c for the moment to avail themselves of the 
 
278 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 ministrations which the law provides, the excellent 
 men whose services they reject find use for their 
 talents elsewhere. The tithes of Munster are still 
 applied to spiritual purposes, when they go to sup- 
 port learning and piety in other parts of Ireland or in 
 the English cities. They are a tax upon the land, 
 designed to maintain the Church as a corporate body 
 in dignity and efficiency." 
 
 This ingenious defence of pluralist Canons and 
 Irish Rectors resident at Bath and Cheltenham, was 
 new to Goring. Crushing down his disposition to 
 laugh, " I wish," he said, " that I could either share 
 your Grace's expectations for the future, or accept 
 your defence of the present state of things. I can do 
 neither. The peasantry, so far as my experience 
 goes, do not understand the purposes to which the 
 tithes are applied, nor would they appreciate them if 
 they did. The Church as it stands, they regard as a 
 mockery and an insult, and if the principles of the 
 Reformation are to make way in this country, it will 
 be through agencies unconnected with the demands of 
 tithe proctors ; it will be through the presence among 
 them of self-supporting Protestant communities, whom 
 I am sorry to see your Grace so little inclined to en- 
 courage. But I occupy your Grace's time I fear to 
 no purpose. I came to request that a community of 
 blameless and industrious men, who live on my 
 estate on Bantry Bay, might be allowed freedom of 
 worship, on the same terms as the Roman Catholics, 
 the Presbyterians of Ulster, the Wesleyan Metho- 
 dists and the Quakers are severally allowed their 
 own. You assume that they are disentitled by 
 opinions or practices, which you are pleased to ascribe 
 to them ; you fall back on your discretionary power. 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 279 
 
 and I understand you to say that my demand is 
 finally refused." 
 
 " Your apprehension is correct, sir," said the 
 Primate. " I expressed myself with so much ex- 
 plicitness at the beginning of our interview, that I 
 might have expected that you would have understood 
 me even more readily. It would have spared us some 
 unnecessary discussion. Enough, however, that you 
 do understand me, and that you realize that my 
 answer is final. One word only, in conclusion. You 
 seem to argue that, because the Roman Catholics are 
 tolerated, we ought to tolerate these people of yours. 
 Let me tell you, sir, that we refuse to regard the 
 adherents of a great and ancient institution, which is 
 the main support of order on the Continent of 
 Europe, as on a level with a congregation of vulgar, 
 Psalm-singing mechanics. And now I wish you good 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 " The Primate, I fear, will have sickened you of 
 Castle officials," said Fitzherbert, w^hen his kinsman 
 gave him the history of his reception. '' He is the 
 most absurd, the most ridiculous — but, unhappily, the 
 most influential — of all our politicians. He is put here 
 to protect the English interest. Money and patronage 
 will buy every public man in Ireland, soul and body ; 
 and this extraordinary successor of the Apostles has, 
 unfortunately, the most of both to give away. What 
 the Primate says the Viceroy w^ill say, and Lord A. 
 will say, and — alas ! that it should be so — the Judges 
 will say ; and if you appeal to either of them, you 
 will lose your time, and perhaps your temper. But 
 
28o THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUiXnOV. 
 
 you must see the Speaker. He has his price, Hke the 
 rest. At heart, he is honest enough : but he must do 
 as the others do ; for if he set up to be immaculate, 
 he would be thought a humbug, and no one would 
 believe him, and he would have no influence at all. 
 But you will find he has sense. He knows a fool 
 when he sees one, and he has a wholesome hatred of 
 that long-eared race. He knows that }'OU are here, 
 and he wants to talk with you. You are a famous 
 person, you know, since your duel at Derreen. You 
 are to meet him at dinner to-morrow. Here is an 
 invitation for you. I know what is in it, for Achmet 
 told me." 
 
 " Achmet ! " said Goring. " And who is Achmet, 
 in Heaven's name ? " 
 
 The letter, elaborately folded, was addressed with 
 many flourishes, to his Excellency the Pasha Gordon. 
 The seal was a crescent, and round it was an Arabic 
 inscription. Goring tore open the envelope, and 
 read with wide eyes that Dr. Achmet Borumborad 
 requested the honour of his company at a Parlia- 
 mentary dinner, to be held on the following day, at 
 the Turkish Baths, on the Liffey. 
 
 " What circumcised Philistine is this ? " he said. 
 " Dr. Achmet Borumborad ! Whoever heard of such 
 a name? Is it a joke — or what is it ? A Parlia- 
 mentary dinner, and the twenty men not buried yet 
 that were cut down in the streets last night ! " 
 
 '' No time so fit," Fitzherbert answered. " If we 
 hadn't our little entertainments, there would be no 
 living at all in this miserable country. We must 
 either laugh or cry — and if we went in for crying, we 
 should all hang ourselves. This Achmet, as he calls 
 himself, pretends to be a true Turk, and I suppose he 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUXBOY. 2S1 
 
 is one. His beard is long enough, any way. He 
 walks about in a blue silk pelisse, with a high-peaked 
 cap, and a dagger in his belt, with a diamond in the 
 hilt of it. We like novelties in Dublin, and we like 
 Achmet." 
 
 " But what does he do ? Is he in Parliament ? 
 Have }^ou sworn him on the Council in this most 
 Christian land ? " 
 
 " He appeared in this cit}- a few years since. No 
 one knows where he came from, and no one cares. 
 He called himself a Hakim, or medicine man. He 
 said that we were dirty, and that we suffering from 
 want of ablutions. He got into society, and, being a 
 sharp fellow, he found that in a place where there was 
 no trade, and where we had nothing to occupy us but 
 politics, the women wanted excitement, and the men 
 wanted to be amused. He said that he had been 
 the Sultan's doctor at Constantinople, and that 
 made him fashionable. He opened baths on the 
 river for public use, and he provided medicated waters 
 in an inner sanctuary. He assured our ladies that 
 he would make them beautiful for ever, and, of 
 course, they adored him. He extended his premises, 
 as the demand grew, adding a club-room and a 
 dining-room, after the pattern of Bath and Chelten- 
 ham, which became a convenient lounge for our wits 
 and orators. The rooms became a State institution ; 
 and when they were still insufficient for the numbers 
 that crowded into them, Parliament proposed to 
 use the surplus in the Treasury for their own diver- 
 sions, and voted Achmet a grant. He made so good 
 a use of it in adding to the attractions of his estab- 
 lishment, that, before long, they gave him another — 
 and then another. You will find them entered, if you 
 
282 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 care to look in the Statute Book. Last Session 
 they gave him the most munificent of all as a reward 
 for his services. He has laid it out in a great new 
 swimming-bath, which is regularly filled by the tide. 
 He has furnished his saloons after the model of the 
 Grand Turk's Divan. I suspect that, really and truly, 
 he was the Grand Turk's barber. The bath is to be 
 opened to the world to-morrow, and he gives a grand 
 dinner on the occasion to his Parliamentary friends, 
 to which he has done you and me the honour of 
 inviting us." 
 
 Colonel Goring had encountered many strange 
 things in Dublin, but this was the strangest of all. 
 " Is it possible," he said, " that, with the country in 
 its present condition, Parliament is voting away the 
 public money on such an absurdity as Turkish 
 Baths ? " 
 
 " And why wouldn't we, I wonder ? " said Fitz- 
 herbert. "If we kept the money in the Treasury it 
 would go to some German cousin of his Majesty. 
 Or if we keep our expenses too low, they might make 
 it an excuse for extinguishing us altogether, sending 
 the Parliament about its business. England, at 
 the bottom, cares nothing w^hat we do, or what be- 
 comes of us, except in war time ; and when war 
 does come they only wish we were sunk in the sea 
 that they might be saved the trouble of defend- 
 ing us." 
 
 " I have few acquaintances in Dublin," said the 
 Colonel. " Whom shall I meet at this beautiful 
 party ? " 
 
 " Almost all the distinguished men will be there. 
 Not the Chancellor, I suppose. He was too much 
 flurried in the row yesterday. And Kildare and the 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 283 
 
 Primate fly high and will not make themselves 
 common. But you will find most of the Judges, the 
 Attorney and Solicitor-General, all the Barristers who 
 are in the House of Commons — the best company in 
 the world — and a dozen or two of the country gentle- 
 men besides. Tisdale will be there, and old Fitz- 
 Gibbon, and a showy Oxford youth they begin to 
 talk about, called Henry Flood, and Hely Hutchinson 
 and Malone and Ponsonby, all our shining lights in 
 the Lower House and a sprinkling of stars from the 
 Upper. I do not kno^y but what you may meet a 
 Bishop. Some of the Bench are not such bad 
 fellows after all outside their profession, and they will 
 drink their three bottles of claret with the best of us. 
 No politics are allowed. The great orators who tear 
 each other to pieces in the debates, meet at Achmet's 
 on the best of terms, and get drunk together like 
 brothers. You are invited, partly because you are an 
 original, and they want to have a look at a man who 
 believes in doing his duty, but chiefly that you may 
 have a quiet talk with the Speaker, who w^ishes for 
 a conversation with you without the fuss of a formal 
 interview. We are to be there an hour before dinner. 
 The Speaker will meet us, and Achmet w^U furnish 
 you with one of his dainty little boudoirs which he 
 has fitted up for his patrician patronesses. 
 
 Goring, who had passed his early days in active 
 service abroad, whose acquaintance with Ireland had 
 begun in Galway, and had been continued among the 
 v/ild environments of Bantry Bay, found himself in a 
 new element in the light and sparkling society of the 
 Irish metropolis. Essentially, it was just as w^ild, 
 just as anarchic, as what he had left behind him at 
 Dunboy. But it was more cultivated, and a great 
 
284 ^/^'^ ^'^^'^^ CHIEFS OF DUX BOY. 
 
 deal more brilliant. He was naturally of a serious 
 turn, and had no taste for frivolities. His own 
 problems hung heavy upon him, and in his secret 
 mind he thought his country's representatives might 
 be better employed than they seemed to be. But the 
 airy tone affected him pleasantly, like champagne. 
 He had Irish blood in his veins, and was not unwilling 
 to be amused. 
 
 Achmet's establishment, the favourite lounge of 
 Dublin in the third quarter of the last century, was an 
 Orientalized imitation of the Bath Assembly Rooms. 
 It stood on the bank of the Liffey, which, as the city 
 was then innocent of drains, was free from pollution. 
 Instead of the hot springs there was the fresh sea 
 water which came up with the tide, and in winter was 
 raised by a warming apparatus to an agreeable 
 temperature. Saloons, dining-room and library were 
 available for every kind of entertainment. The 
 contriver of all this delightful recreation was the 
 favourite of Societ}'. His broken English passed for 
 wit. The latest story at every evening party was of 
 some mot or blunder of the agreeable /\chmet. As 
 a master of the ceremonies he was as accomplished as 
 Beau Nash, with the addition of his eastern manners. 
 As on the present occasion he was to be the host of 
 his Parliamentary patrons, special preparation was 
 required, both for the banquet itself and for the 
 decoration of his own person. He was to receive his 
 guests at the entrance-hall, and was not to show till 
 they began to arrive. The House was not to sit, and 
 the Speaker had the afternoon to himself. A word 
 to the head of the establishment had secured an 
 exquisite little cabinet with a bow window over- 
 hanging the river. The air, though it was \\inter, was 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 285 
 
 soft and warm. The sash was thrown up, and a h'ght 
 breeze blew in from the Pigeon House. Here, when 
 Goring and his kinsman arrived, a couple of hours 
 before dinner, they found the Speaker waiting for 
 them. 
 
 Henry Boyle, better known as Lord Shannon, a 
 rank to which he was on the point of being raised, 
 was one of the triumvirs who, except on the rare 
 occasions of the Viceroy's presence, administered as 
 Lords Justices the Government of Ireland. Boyle, 
 Kildare, and the Primate led the three parties into 
 which the Irish Parliament was divided. Their objects 
 were nominally different, and on the surface they 
 were constantly quarrelling. But there was an under- 
 standing between them behind the scenes, that their 
 disagreement was not to be .pushed to a point where 
 it might become dangerous to the distribution of 
 power. They were united in a resolution to keep the 
 management of the country in their own hands, and 
 resist the encroachments of the London Cabinet. 
 The Primate represented the authority of the Estab- 
 lished Church and, so far as his colleagues would 
 allow, the English interest. Kildare represented the 
 old Irish traditions, and Henry Boyle the constitu- 
 tional patriotism which was to be the mother of 
 Irish eloquence, and of its twin brother Irish 
 corruption. The Speaker was one of the wealthiest, 
 and one of the most useful of the great Irish land- 
 owners. He was descended from the famous Earl of 
 Cork. His magnificent domains were the best im- 
 proved that were to be seen in Munster. He was 
 adored by his tenantry, for he was the most munificent 
 of masters, and when they applied for leases of his 
 farms he never enquired into their creed. His estate 
 
286 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 was a cultivated oasis surrounded by desolation. In 
 the House of Commons he had been raised to the 
 chair by his genius, by his courtesy, and by his 
 adroitness as a party leader. When it was his object to 
 put the Castle in a difficulty he had a majority always 
 at his back. No public man in Ireland more accurately 
 estimated the political forces at work there, or was 
 more skilful in applying them to his purpose. Had 
 the circumstances of the time allowed it, he could and 
 would have used his talents for the real benefit of his 
 country, but all such exertions he knew must be vain 
 so long as England insisted on paralysing Irish 
 industry. He contented himself, therefore, with using 
 his influence for the private benefit of himself and his 
 friends. He had already occupied successively the 
 most lucrative public offices. He had virtually 
 appointed himself to them. He was now Speaker of 
 the House of Commons and Lord Justice. He was 
 about to be a Peer, and to receive a pension out 
 of the public funds to meet the expenses of his 
 new dignity. He was tall, handsome, polished, the 
 finest of gentlemen in the last century sense of the 
 word, and was now in the meridian of his life and 
 fame. 
 
 "Colonel Goring," he said, warmly extending his 
 hand, " I am delighted to make your acquaintance. 
 We have heard much of you in the last two years, 
 and everything which we have heard has been to your 
 honour. If more of the gentry were like you, Ireland 
 would be a happier country to live in than you and I 
 are likely to see it. But you have had a hard time of 
 it, and I fear a dangerous one." 
 
 " I am a soldier, sir," said Goring, " and soldiers 
 must not complain of dangers. I have tried to be of 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 287 
 
 some use in the district where I Hve. I wish I had 
 more success to boast of." 
 
 " Success never comes up to endeavour, even with 
 the strongest of us," the Speaker replied. " Only the 
 lower animals act out their nature completely. Man 
 aims beyond his powers and so falls short. But it is 
 better to aim high and partly fail,- than to crawl con- 
 tentedly on a lower level. I should be well satisfied if 
 I could give as good an account of myself as you can do. 
 But alas ! our poor country is not a place for honour- 
 able ambitions. If you are ill off down in Bantry, we 
 in Dublin are little better off, as you have had an 
 opportunity of seeing. The poor Chancellor has not 
 got over it yet. I was in the middle of the riot, too, 
 and the rascals had hold of me, but they let me go 
 when they ran off with their old lady to the woolsack. 
 Bah ! What would you have ? England will not let 
 us break the heads of our scoundrels ; she will not 
 break them herself ; we are a free country, and must 
 take the consequences." 
 
 " The Irish make good soldiers, sir," answered Gor- 
 ing, " and no man can be a good soldier who has not 
 fine qualities in him of some kind. Certain races are 
 like the nobler kind of dogs. Train a dog, and rule 
 him, and he becomes brave, loyal, faithful, affectionate, 
 and wise. Give him liberty, and he grows into a 
 mangy cur, or a ferocious wolf." 
 
 " You are a philosopher. Colonel, as v/ell as a 
 soldier," said the Speaker. " Our countrymen are 
 strange creatures, but if we begin discussing their 
 qualities, we shall waste all our time. You saw the 
 Primate yesterday ? " 
 
 " I did." 
 
 " You have settled a colony of Protestants at Dunboy. 
 
288 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOV. 
 
 Most of them are Nonconformists, and you want a 
 chapel and a minister for them. You asked for the 
 Primate's consent, and he would not give it you. You 
 might perhaps force him if you brought an action in the 
 Four Courts; but it is just as hkely that you would fail, 
 for the Act has been construed to cover only forms of 
 Dissent which were understood and acknowledged 
 when it was passed. So at least the Judges interpret 
 it ; and they revise, or ask the Bishops to revise for 
 them, the opinion of every new sect that applies for 
 registration. An action would cost you a great deal 
 of money, and you could have no certainty of success. 
 The Archbishop knows this, and will run the risk. 
 He hates Dissenters of all kinds. He is particularly 
 sore against the Wesleyans, Swaddlers he calls them, 
 because he has been obliged to tolerate the poor devils. 
 He listens to any calumny against them. He told you 
 that they made the riot. He does not believe it, but 
 he tries to believe it ; and he and the Viceroy will so 
 represent matters across the w^ater, because he wants 
 the Swaddlers to be discouraged. The people that 
 you have brought in belong to the other prophet, 
 Whitfield I believe they call him. They are the old 
 dangerous, fighting Protestants, like the men that 
 Cromwell brought over, desperate fellows in the field, 
 and very useful, I daresay, to you, but never well 
 inclined to Bishops. The Primate shudders at the 
 thought of them. He knows very well that if a strong 
 Nonconformist interest grows up again over Ireland, 
 it will go hard with him and his Church, and cleverer 
 fellows than he have been of the same opinion. Jona- 
 than Swift said the chief danger to the peace of 
 Ireland was the Presbyterians ; the Catholics were 
 dangerous once, but their teeth had been drawn, and 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 289 
 
 they could do no more harm, while the Presbyterians 
 were like an angry cat, ready to fly at you with fang 
 and claw. As to me, I consider that in saying this the 
 great Jonathan let his temper get the better of him. 
 He had not a good one, as perhaps you know. But 
 that is neither here nor there. You see 1 know what 
 passed between his Grace and yourself, and I wanted 
 to explain to you why he acts as he is doing." 
 
 " To me," said Goring, " his Grace is acting like 
 the clergyman who, when his house was on fire, 
 allowed no one to fetch water who was not a com- 
 municant. Little can he know of the condition of 
 the southern counties of Ireland. Fifty years ago 
 there were Protestant settlements all over Munster. 
 They are melting off like snow, and unless they can 
 be revived all the old troubles will inevitably come 
 back again. That I am not myself ill-affected to the 
 Church of Ireland, I have given a sufficient proof in 
 building a church, though, by-the-bye, the Archbishop 
 seemed to make a crime of it. But I consider my 
 Nonconformist tenants to be as good Christians as I 
 am, and many of them a great deal better. They 
 will not stay with me unless their consciences are 
 respected, and if they go, I suppose I must go, and 
 return to my old profession. If I remained, I should 
 probably be killed, but even that would be more 
 tolerable than to remain to witness the ruin of all 
 that I have tried to do." 
 
 The Speaker was silent for some seconds, looking 
 hesitatingly at Goring, as if there was something 
 which he wished to say, yet doubted whether he could 
 prudently say it. 
 
 " Colonel Goring," he said at length, " you complain 
 of Irish anarchy ; but even anarchy has its advantages. 
 
 19 
 
290 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 You asked the Archbishop's leave to have a chapel. 
 That was a mistake on your part. You should have 
 taken leave without asking. Build your chapel if you 
 have not built it already, and call it a room. Set a 
 few forms and desks at one end of it where the 
 children can have their Bible lessons and be taught 
 reading and writing. Nobody will meddle with you. 
 You will receive some letter from your Bishop. 
 Don't answer it. The Bishop will feel that he has 
 done all that he was required to do, and will thank 
 you in his heart for sparing him further trouble. If he 
 bothers you further, tell him that the judgments of the 
 Church Courts cannot be executed in those parts. As to 
 your going away, it is nonsense. We can't spare you, 
 and we can't spare your colonists either. They are 
 worth their weight in gold to us. You, Colonel, since 
 that business at Derreen, have been the most popular 
 man in Ireland. Pity you let the fellow go when you 
 might so easily have put a ball through him. But I 
 wish as your friend, as a real friend, which you must 
 believe me to be, to say a few words to you on a 
 subject about which, from the many letters which we 
 have had from you, you plainly do not understand 
 our feeling. You are surprised and hurt because we 
 have been so languid, and because the gentry in your 
 county have been so languid in supportmg your 
 efforts to suppress the contraband trade. Take a 
 friend's advice, and do not for the future let your 
 exertions go beyond the evident sense of the country. 
 If the rogues are landing arms, like your acquaintance 
 Morty Sullivan, or are taking recruits to the Brigade, 
 or are engaged in pirating work, be down upon them 
 as hard as you please. But as to the smuggling, it is 
 the only refuge we have against the intolerable laws 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 291 
 
 by which England has crushed our commerce. When 
 ruling powers are unjust, nature reasserts her rights. 
 
 " You are surely jesting with me," Goring answered 
 with a smile. " Law is law, and we who are executive 
 officers of the Government must at least try to make 
 it obeyed. These contraband people are the cause of 
 all the crime and disorder on the Irish Coast. Those 
 who break one law break all. Murder, piracy, re- 
 bellion, they are ready for any of them. How can any 
 country prosper when the people are taught from their 
 cradles that laws are only made to be 1 aughed at ?" 
 
 " Nothing can be more true, my dear Colonel ; but 
 those are precisely the conditions under which it 
 pleases our sovereign masters that the affairs of this 
 country shall be administered. We live under a set 
 of laws which we cannot repeal and are not allowed to 
 execute. How is it with the Catholics ? By law no 
 priest may officiate who is not registered. Not one in 
 fifty is registered, yet no one is ever punished. By 
 law no Catholic bishop ought to be in Ireland. They 
 reside openly in their palaces ; they preach, they 
 ordain, they rule their dioceses as effectively as our 
 own prelates. Not only does no one call them to 
 question, but we ourselves in the government use their 
 help in keeping order. By the law no Catholic can 
 own land or hold a lease for more than thirty years. 
 The estates of Catholics are now as safe as those of Pro- 
 testants. They protect themselves by a transparent 
 evasion, while half the tenants in Munster are Catho- 
 lics in reality if not in name. By law no Catholic can 
 practise in the learned professions. Go, ask at the 
 Four Courts how many Catholics are on the roll of 
 attorneys. The laws are on our Statute Book. We 
 do not try to enforce them, for England would 
 
 19* 
 
292 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOV. 
 
 interpose if we did. But the whole system that we 
 Hve under is an instruction to us that laws are made 
 to be disobeyed. And what wonder is it if we on our 
 parts are careless about executing trade enactments 
 which ruin us, in order to benefit our masters ? By- 
 and-bye, when they see their prohibitions cannot be 
 carried out, the E2nglish consent to do us justice. Till 
 then they never will." 
 
 " God help Ireland then," said the Colonel, sorrow- 
 fully. " God help us all, and send us another Oliver." 
 
 "Do not let the Primate hear you say so," the Speaker 
 answered, " and in default of Oliver I recommend you 
 to do as others do, and swim with the stream. High 
 notions of duty are admissible when time and place 
 suits them, but they will not work in Ireland in this 
 age that we live in. You do not think me serious. I 
 wish I was not. Oliver conquered this country. He 
 drove the fighting Irish across the Shannon into 
 Connaught. He partitioned the lands of the rebels 
 among his own soldiers, or among Puritan Colonists 
 from England and Scotland. He gave us Free 
 Trade and a political union with Great Britain. Had 
 he lived ten years longer the English race, the English 
 law, the English character, would have been rooted as 
 firmly in Leinster and Munsteras the Scots are rooted in 
 the North. Even as it was, so long as Oliver's founda- 
 tions were left standing we had a chance of making 
 something of the country. We had English farmers, 
 English mechanics, English artisans in tens of 
 thousands. America was far off, and more were 
 ready to pour in if they could have political security. 
 France and Flanders sent us their Protestant refugees. 
 We had our shipyards, and fifty vessels might be seen 
 lying in the Liffey, where now there are but yonder 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 2q: 
 
 half-dozen miserable coal brigs. We were so pros- 
 perous that England was jealous of us. They 
 destroyed our shipping industry by their Navigation 
 Act. They closed our woollen mills, and all those 
 busy hands that were employed in them were cast 
 adrift, and sought more hospitable shores. Even of 
 our fleeces, the best in Europe, they would not let us 
 make our own market ; they required them for them- 
 selves, and at such price as they were pleased them- 
 selves to fix. I tell you that nature herself rejects so 
 iniquitous a system. If we are robbed of our legiti- 
 mate trade the people will, and must, open other 
 channels for themselves. The very life of the country 
 depends upon it. They order us to sell our wool in 
 the English market. They have so tied us up that 
 they think they can compel us to let them have it on 
 their own terms, and they offer us a fourth part of 
 what we can get for it at Nantes and Rochelle. They 
 overreach themselves with their own avarice. You 
 might as well try to stop the Shannon from running 
 into the Atlantic as to prevent Irish wool from going 
 to France when there is such a profit to be made upon 
 it. Full two-thirds of our fleeces are taken there ; and 
 for that matter two-thirds of our salt beef, and bacon, 
 and butter, and the rest of it. Every rank, every pro- 
 fession in Ireland is interested in maintaining the con- 
 traband runners. It is not only a point of honour and 
 patriotism, but our veiy existence depends upon it. 
 The labourer would starve, the farmer could not pay 
 his rent, without the French market. We landowners 
 would be driven to potatoes grown onour own domains ; 
 the absentee would be a beggar in his London palace. 
 You cannot squeeze water out of a dry sponge. More 
 money is carried over each year to London for the 
 
294 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 absentee landlords than the whole profits of such 
 legitimate commerce as England allows us. Where 
 does that money come from ? It comes from France ; 
 and if along with it come a few hogsheads of claret 
 and brandy, we enjoy ourselves none the less because 
 they have paid no duty to his Majesty's customs, and 
 our lives are all the merrier. If the poor fellows who 
 risk their necks in carrying on the business are hunted 
 by the King's cruisers, I do not see why we Irish should 
 be especially zealous in helping them ; and if, as you 
 say, it leads to lawlessness, our English masters, and 
 not we, are responsible." 
 
 " And how long is such a state of things to last ? " 
 said Gordon. 
 
 " That depends on the pleasure of the Parliament 
 at Westminster ; or on the power of the English to 
 keep the seas and prevent the French from coming 
 over. If a French force was once landed, we should 
 have a pretty business here. It is of course possible 
 tliat they may discover that they are cutting their 
 own throats. It may be, though I confess 1 have 
 small expectations of it, that they may have some 
 prickings of conscience. But nature keeps an accu- 
 rate account in such things. The longer a bill is left 
 unpaid, the heavier the accumulation of interest. It 
 will be sent in one day, and our sons and grandsons 
 will have to settle it. For myself I see nothing but 
 to live for the day that is passing over us." 
 
 The ideas thus presented to Colonel Goring's mind 
 were so bewildering that he had to collect himself 
 before he could answer. He sate gazing mechanically 
 out of the window at a coal barge which had drifted 
 upon a broken pile, and was being slowl\' upset as the 
 tide went back and left it. " We are told," he said at 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 295 
 
 last, " that a wise man mindeth his own matters, but a 
 fool's eyes are in the ends of the earth." The English 
 are a splendid people ; they are conquering India and 
 colonizing America, and their little Island is being 
 made the centre of an Empire ; it might be better 
 for them in the end perhaps if they could spare more 
 attention to these miserable back premises of theirs. 
 I am obliged to you, sir, for the candour with which 
 you have spoken to me. I am sure you will pardon 
 me when I tell you that I cannot go along with you. 
 No nation can prosper when the units composing it 
 voluntarily neglect their duties ; and if we arc 
 wronged we do not mend the matter by doing wrong 
 ourselves. But what you say confirms me in a pur- 
 pose which I had half formed before I came to Dublin. 
 You have shown me that in struggling with the 
 smugglers at Bantry I have undertaken an impossible 
 task. As long as I am an officer of the revenue I 
 must and will attempt to repress them ; but there is 
 no obligation on me to retain my commission. I have 
 enough to do without it, and I can spend my time 
 more usefully if I confine my attention to my own 
 estate and my own people. Their disposition has 
 been to live peaceably with their neighbours, and if 
 trouble has risen it has been on account of the busi- 
 ness in which I have had to employ them. We shall 
 get on better together when all that is at an end. I 
 shall therefore thank you if you will send down my 
 successor and will leave me to my own affairs." 
 
 " I believe you are right," said the Speaker laughing. 
 "If you go on as you have been doing hitherto, you 
 will inevitably get yourself killed ; and how will the 
 country be the better for that ? Yes, yes. Stick to 
 your colonists, and keep them to the mines and the 
 
296 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 fishing. Neither you nor they can thrive as Ireland 
 now is, if they are to do the work of a coastguard and 
 a police. We ought not to have allowed you to try. 
 We cannot relieve you at this moment. We are at 
 war with France in reality, though the beggars won't 
 declare it. The chances are that they will try a 
 descent on our coast, and an officer of your experi- 
 ence cannot be spared. But we can let you off the 
 Customs' work, and, my dear friend, make your mind 
 easy about what the Archbishop said to you. I can't 
 promise you a license, but I can promise you that you 
 shall never be troubled for the want of it. You can- 
 not live in Ireland without breaking laws on one side 
 or another. Pecca fortiter, therefore, as your friend 
 Luther said. Keep your chapel open. Preach there 
 yourself if you like. I am told you do sometimes, 
 and do it admirably well. Don't try to make con- 
 verts ; it will get you into trouble with the priests ; 
 and let your minister go on quietly attending to the 
 school and the people. If the Primate threatens you, 
 refer him to me. For my own part, I not only wish 
 you success, but I think that if you can make those 
 saplings which you have planted live and grow on 
 Irish soil, you will have done more for this poor 
 country than all the eloquence of the illustrious Par- 
 liament over which I have the honour to preside. 
 
 '* But Achmet calls us to dinner. The guests wait ; 
 we must go. Let me see you again at my own house 
 to-morrow morning." 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 297 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Perhaps nowhere in Europe was more brilliant 
 society to be met with in the middle of the last 
 century than in the Irish metropolis. The cross 
 between the Saxon and Celtic temperaments had 
 created a delightful combination of lightheartedness 
 and serious thought, and the two elements sparkled 
 into wit, like alkali and acid, when circumstances 
 broug-ht them into contact. Of business in Dublin 
 there was not much. The commercial policy of 
 England had closed the ordinary avenues of progress, 
 and the uncertain political prospects and the dis- 
 couragement of industry gave an impulse where none 
 was needed to the recklessness of the national 
 disposition. 
 
 The conscientiousness of the Anglo- Irish was not 
 large, and they had faults innumerable. But their 
 worst enemy could not accuse them of being dull. 
 Their levity was the natural resource of a high- 
 spirited and gifted people, who were placed in a 
 situation which nothing which they could do could 
 improve. Their animal spirits remained when all 
 else was gone, and if there was no purpose in their 
 lives they could at least enjoy themselves. 
 
 When the Speaker with Goring and Fitzherbert 
 joined the company, they found forty gentlemen 
 collected in the Hall which adjoined the Dining 
 Saloon. Their infidel entertainer, magnificently 
 dressed in silk and turban, received them with 
 
298 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 Oriental dignity, yet a dignity so tempered as to 
 imply that he was accepting, rather than conferring a 
 favour. Though he was the giver of the dinner, he 
 professed himself too humble to preside, and he con- 
 ducted the Speaker to the chair. In broken English 
 he welcomed Goring, and thanked him for the 
 honour of his presence. " We know you Sir," he 
 said, " if you not know us. We all hear how you 
 shoot that leaf, and let go that dam rascal. We all 
 grieve Sir you no kill him, but you brave man Sir. 
 dam brave, and I shake your hand Sir, and is proud 
 of your acquaintance." 
 
 No accomplishment stood higher in Irish estima- 
 tion than skill in the use of a pistol, as indeed was 
 natural, for none was more required ; and many an eye 
 glanced curiously or admiringly on Goring as he took 
 his place at the Speaker's right hand. The dinner was 
 magnificent, the wine superb, and every one showed 
 at his best. Judges left their dignity behind with 
 their \\'igs and robes, and told stories, not always 
 decent, which convulsed the room. Old Parliamen- 
 tary hands tried the metal of young aspirants, b)- 
 quoting and affecting to commend their absurdities. 
 The chief target of wit of this kind was young 
 Henry Flood, who had the aroma of his maiden 
 speech about him, and whose luxuriances were a 
 tempting mark. Every political notability, either 
 already known to fame or to become known in the 
 next generation, were amongst the guests of the 
 evening. Irish barristers, concerned as they were 
 each day of their lives with the misadventures or 
 misdoings of the most amusing people in the world, 
 related anecdote against anecdote, the genuine 
 absurdities of which no fiction could improve. Puns 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 299 
 
 rattled like hail-showers ; and sarcasms unpoisoned by 
 malice, but keen as a Toledo rapier, were exchanged 
 like passes in a fencing school. Jests were delivered 
 and shot back again, as tennis-balls are returned over 
 the net. Gradually, as the wine flowed freely, the 
 rays of humour concentrated on the person of 
 Achmet. It appeared that having succeeded in 
 establishing a prosperous and growing business, he 
 had been looking about him for some one who would 
 share his fortunes with him. More than one he might 
 not hope for, being in a Christian land, but on-e at 
 least he might find who would forget his origin in 
 consideration of his wealth and his good looks. And 
 indeed no sooner was his purpose known, than the 
 difficulty was to select among the competitors who 
 were eager to be asked. He might have stocked a 
 harem, had the laws allowed, the young ladies flock- 
 ing about him like flies about a ripe peach. He had 
 but to choose and be happy. Fate, however, always 
 perverse on these occasions, so ruled that Achmet, 
 instead of taking, as he might have done, either maid 
 or widow who would have been his and have made 
 no conditions, fixed his affections in a quarter where 
 there had arisen most complicated difficulties. The 
 fair Miss Biddy Flanigan had no objection to 
 Achmet himself. She thought him beautiful, she 
 thought him charming. It would have been 
 delightful to her to carry off a prize so much desired 
 from so many rivals. But she had scruples of con- 
 science. Achmet she thought must forsake his errors 
 shave his beard, and be baptized. She could not be 
 the wife of an unbelieving Turk. And yet, and yet, 
 she could not be certain at the bottom of her mind 
 whether the singularity of his creed and his appearance 
 
300 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 were not his principal attractions, and whether an 
 Achmct beardless and a Christian would be any 
 better than a shorn Samson. Thus her situation was 
 perplexing in the extreme. She would not give him 
 up. She would not marry him so long as he was a 
 Turk. She was not sure that she would marry him 
 if he ceased to be a Turk. Achmet pretended to a 
 conscience also, and would not throw over Mahomet 
 and the Koran unless he was certain of his reward ; 
 while, supposing all these intricacies could be dis- 
 entangled, a further question had been raised about 
 the good man's origin — Who and what was he, and 
 where had he been living before he came to Dublin ? 
 
 Matters were in this situation at the time of the 
 dinner. Achmet's matrimonial prospects had al- 
 ready been discussed at every Dublin tea table. 
 The present opportunity was too tempting to be neg- 
 lected ; one question led to another, and Miss Biddy's 
 difficulties became the general talk of the party. It 
 happened unfortunately that Miss Biddy herself was 
 listening to all that w^as going on. She had expressed 
 a wish to her lover to see the gentlemen at the 
 banquet, and to hear their speeches. A gallery ran 
 round the upper part of the dining and other public 
 rooms. Here Miss Biddy with half a dozen other 
 girls was installed behind a curtain, and not a word 
 that was said escaped her. In vain Achmet en- 
 deavoured to turn the conversation. With the scent 
 breast high, the hounds could not be whipped off. 
 One of the party declared that he had been making 
 enquiries at the request of the lady's relatives, and, 
 though he could not absolutely prove it, there was 
 good reason to believe that their host was the person 
 who had strangled the Christians in the Sea Tower 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 301 
 
 at Constantinople. Another, who had made the 
 grand tour, insisted that in a certain SeragHo at the 
 Golden Horn, a group of forsaken ladies were pining 
 for a husband who had deserted them, while Achmet 
 had disappeared simultaneously. The circumstances 
 were full of suspicion. Young Hely Hutchinson, the 
 most positive of them all, insisted that their friend was 
 no less a person than Candide himself, who had run 
 away from Miss Cunegunde, and had left her washing 
 clothes at the Sultan's palace. 
 
 Miss Biddy had never heard of Candide, but she 
 hated Cunegunde from that moment. Achmet 
 defended himself better than might have been 
 expected, considering his imperfect acquaintance 
 with English, and more than once turned the laughter 
 on an assailant by a startling rejoinder. The evening 
 wore on. Champagne corks had crackled like musketry 
 fire. Claret of the finest flavour that had ever ripened 
 on the Garonne had flowed in streams, and loyal toasts 
 had been drunk, and disloyal also, for a hot Jacobite 
 had proposed the three B's, and no one had ob- 
 jected with more than a laugh. The rooms began 
 to swim ; the night grew hot ; and more than one 
 grave and learned counsellor unbuttoned his waist- 
 coat and loosened his neckcloth, while through the 
 mask of his official features, the wild Irish face came 
 into focus, like the second landscape in a dissolving 
 view. The wine which had been brought up was 
 exhausted. The elder guests began to think they 
 
 had had enough, and Sir John , the Chief 
 
 Justice, suggested an adjournment. Remonstrances 
 rose loud from the lower end of the taole. There was a 
 cry for another dozen of Lafitte, and the proposal was 
 caught up with so much enthusiasm, that Achmet 
 
302 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOV. 
 
 was dispatched to the cellar with a basket. The 
 majority of the party clearly enough intended to 
 make a wet night. Most of them were seasoned 
 vessels, who could carry half a dozen bottles to bed 
 with them, and sleep none the worse, and the 
 supply for which Achmet had been sent would pro- 
 bably not be the last. 
 
 Goring, who had drunk nothing, and had been 
 excused as a stranger, sat quietly by the Speaker 
 
 watching what was going on. Sir John however, 
 
 and one or two others, determined to attempt an 
 escape while their feet were still steady enough to 
 carry them. It was now dusk ; daylight was almost 
 gone, and candles were not yet lighted. The door 
 by which they had entered was at the lower end of 
 the saloon, and led into the outer hall, from which 
 there was an easy exit into the street. Watching 
 his opportunity, Sir John slid from his seat and was 
 half-way down the room before his flight was 
 observed. Free, however, as most things were in 
 Ireland, there was no freedom in the regulations of 
 convivial assemblies. Guests on such occasions were 
 not allowed to shirk. A cry rose, " Against the 
 rules." The master of the Kildare foxhounds, who was 
 present, gave a " View Holloa ! " and with " Yoicks ! 
 Forward ! Stole away ! " started in pursuit, with half 
 the company at his heels. Sir John sped on, with the 
 pack after him in full cry. He dashed open what he 
 believed to be the entrance door, and plunged into 
 the darkness beyond. Alas, for him ! it was not the 
 door into the hall at all, but the door into the new 
 bath room, where the great basin stood brimming 
 full, and the Chief Justice shot head-foremost into the 
 middle of it 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 303 
 
 Close behind followed the pursuers, in heedless 
 impetuosity. They could see nothing. They could 
 not have stopped themselves if they had. Over 
 went the first flight. Those behind dropped on the 
 floor, but the crowd pressing on stumbled over them, 
 and all went down together. There, amidst peals 
 of laughter, and shouts for help, for the water was 
 deep, the Legislature and Counsellors of Ireland were 
 splashing, plunging, seizing hold of each other, unable 
 to see anything, and such of them as could not swim 
 running a chance of being drowned. Happily, ropes 
 were hung from the roof at short intervals for the use 
 of the legitimate bathers. Those who had their senses 
 least disturbed caught hold, and gave a hand to the 
 rest, while the seniors from the top of the table, with 
 the Speaker and Coding, came in with candles, and 
 threw light upon the extraordinary scene. 
 
 Achmet returning from the cellar with his basket, 
 found the dining room deserted, and, from the noise 
 in the adjoining apartment, guessed too surely the 
 catastrophe which had happened. Dropping the 
 wine, tearing off his turban, and forgetting in his 
 distraction who and what he was, he dashed into 
 the confusion. "Och, Thunder and Turf! " he shrieked. 
 " Nineteen members of Parliament squattering in the 
 water like so many goslings, and my Lord Chief 
 Justice like the ould gander at the head of them. 
 Oh ! wirra, wirra ! what will we do now ? Sure it is 
 murdered for this I'll be, and that will be the laste 
 of it." 
 
 Wild as was the excitement, the whole party, wet 
 and dry, were struck dumb by this astounding 
 exclamation. 
 
 " A Murracle ! a Murracle ! " shouted a youthful 
 
304 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 senator, who was swimming leisurely about among 
 his struggling companions. " The Turk has turned 
 Tipperary boy. I'll swear to the brogue. In with 
 him, we'll baptize him on the spot." 
 
 " No Turk," shouted the self-detected Achmet, 
 " No Turk at all, at all. Sure, it is Pat Joyce 
 from Kilkenny I am — no less — and as good a 
 Christian as the Pope of Rome." 
 
 Loud was the laughter, but louder yet was the 
 shriek that rang from the gallery. On the rush of the 
 guests into the bath room, Biddy and her companions 
 had followed by the passage above, and she had 
 arrived just in time to witness her lover's metamor- 
 phosis. 
 
 " Ah, ye false thief ! " she screamed. " And ye tould 
 me it was a circumcised haythen that ye were, and 
 yc'd the Sultan for your godfather, and that if I 
 married ye, I'd be a Princess at the worst. It is tear 
 your eyes out, I will, when I can catch ye, ye desaving 
 villain." 
 
 " Whisht, Biddy, and be asy with you," answered 
 her lover. " Don't be bothering the gintlemen till we 
 get them out of the water." 
 
 By this time, Sir John, very angry and half 
 drowned, was on dry ground again. The Speaker, 
 choking with laughter, said : 
 
 " This is a hanging business, Mr. Patrick, or what- 
 ever ye are. Ye have conspired against the lives of 
 half the representatives of Ireland, and that is death 
 by statute, Irish and English. You planned it your- 
 self, you scoundrel, because some of us voted for 
 cutting down your grants. But, Sir John will catch 
 his death, shivering here in the wet. Bring some dry 
 clothes, if )'ou have any that a Christian can wear, 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 305 
 
 and some brandy and mulled claret, and then we will 
 put you on your trial — see what shall be done with 
 you." 
 
 Achmet's wardrobe had been furnished only for his 
 assumed character. Silk robes, pelisses, shawls, huge 
 bagged trousers, were hunted out and brought down. 
 When the supply still fell short, the ladies' bathing 
 dresses were drawn upon, and, one way or another, the 
 whole party were furnished out and dried. Even Sir 
 John recovered his amenity, when the mulled claret 
 came, and warmed him back into good humour ; and 
 in wild spirits at the ridiculousness of the adventure, 
 they formed themselves into a Court to try the 
 offender, the Chief Justice presiding. 
 
 The offence was palpable ; but the audacity of the 
 imposition, and the skill with which it had been 
 carried out, recommended the prisoner for pardon. 
 It was remembered that his baths and his rooms 
 would be none the worse because he was Patrick 
 Joyce, and not the Sultan's barber. To prove his 
 Christianity, he was sentenced to drink a pint of 
 brandy on the spot, which he did without flinching. 
 Other penalties were thought of. Henry Flood, who 
 liked to show off his acquaintance with the East, 
 proposed that Achmet, in Turkish costume, should 
 ride a donkey through the streets with his face to the 
 tail, and Pat Joyce pinned, in large letters, on his 
 back. Hely Hutchinson suggested that the adven- 
 ture should be entered in the Journals of the House 
 of Commons, as a lesson against further grants in aid. 
 But, after terrifying the unfortunate wretch with these 
 and other more frightful suggestions, the Court agreed 
 on a verdict of — Guilty, with good intentions ; and 
 they signed a Round Robin to the outraged Biddy, 
 
 20 
 
3o6 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 recommending her suitor to mercy, on the ground 
 that a decent lad, with a good Irish name to him, 
 was a fitter mate for her than a Turk, and that 
 Achmet had only been all along what she professed 
 that she wanted to make him. 
 
 It was now midnight, and the party broke up. In 
 sedan chairs and in coaches — where a wisp of straw 
 had first been lighted, to warm them — Achmet's 
 guests were carried to their homes in their parti- 
 coloured apparel ; and Goring and Fitzherbert walked 
 back to the College, the grave and earnest Colonel 
 too much diverted with the incidents of the evening 
 to be able to moralize over them. Ireland's fortunes 
 might be committed to a singular set of legislators, 
 but he had never met with more entertaining com- 
 panions.* 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 No signs of the evening's adventure were to be seen 
 in the Speaker's appearance, when Goring called 
 upon him — as he had been directed to do — on the 
 following morning. Whether a dozen or two of the 
 City mob had been cut down in the streets, or the 
 brightest ornaments of the Bench or the House of 
 Commons had been half drowned in a bath, affected 
 little the careless good-humour of Dublin society. 
 The centre of gravity was always being disturbed by 
 something, and casualties were only noticed as they 
 furnished matter for amusement. The Speaker him- 
 self was as comxposed as if nothing had happened, nor 
 did he make the least allusion either to the dinner or 
 to what had occurred at it. He had been occupied 
 
 * I am indebted for the adventure at the Turkish Bath to the Personal 
 Sketches of Sir Joseph Barrington. 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 307 
 
 since an early hour with serious business, for the 
 EngHsh Mail had come in, and his table was covered 
 with freshly-opened letters. 
 
 " There are news from London," he said, " and they 
 will interest you. There is no declaration of war yet, 
 but they are fighting everywhere. Young Howe is 
 plucking the feathers from the French fleet on the 
 American coast ; he has taken another frigate ; and 
 the French are preparing at Brest, in earnest, for a 
 descent on the Irish coast. We know not where it is 
 to be ; but your country, Colonel, is the likeliest point. 
 I do not think they will try anything serious before 
 the Summer; but you may be sure they will have 
 their agents busy all about the South, to keep up the 
 agitation. You will have to get back to your post at 
 once. There will be three frigates between Cork and 
 Kinsale, within call, if you want help." 
 
 " I am at my country's service," said Goring. 
 *' What you direct, I will do — or try to do. But I 
 I must remind you of what passed between us yester- 
 day. I said that I must resign my post in the Revenue 
 Service — and you were good enough to approve." 
 
 " Yes, yes," said the Speaker. " Quite true— the 
 revenue service is no fit occupation for such as you. 
 You must hold on, however, just at this moment ; for 
 all the correspondence with France is carried on 
 through the smugglers — the rascals ! — and they will 
 want sharper looking after than ever. But we must 
 not compromise your colonists down there. Well I 
 know how precious they are, and how important it is 
 that they should be kept together. You will judge 
 how interested I am about it, when I tell you that I 
 have already seen the Primate this morning. I had 
 to pull him out of bed to come down to me, and he 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 was in the worst of humours ; but he was frightened 
 out of his wits about a French Invasion, and more 
 tractable, on the whole, than I expected. I am sorry 
 to say he was immovable about the license for your 
 chapel and school. He hates Protestant settlements 
 in the South, while I would encourage them. He 
 does not like you very well. I don't know what you 
 said to him. He declares you are, yourself, no better 
 than a Dissenter of the worst kind, and your people 
 are Cromwellians, Independents, Anabaptists, rebels 
 at heart, and the rest of it. He swears he will do 
 nothing, and will allow nothing to be done, which can 
 seem like official countenance. 
 
 " I told him that you made up a hundred and 
 twenty fighting men, all to be thoroughly depended 
 upon. You had shewn what you could do, and in 
 the present state of things to discourage such a force, 
 which was costing nothing, would be something like 
 treason. His Grace started at this, so I followed it 
 up by saying that I was writing to England, and 
 might feel it my duty to mention the subject to the 
 Cabinet. This finished him, for he is desperately 
 afraid of being reported upon, so the sum of what 
 we agreed on is this. Your chapel is not to be 
 registered ; but, for the present at least, no questions 
 will be asked about it, and you will be on the same 
 footing as most of the Catholic chapels. This, I 
 suppose, will content you. Meanwhile our young 
 engineering genius. General Vavasour, has been sent to 
 Cork to see after the fortifications. We consider that 
 Berehaven ought not to be left undefended either. 
 The harbour is the largest and safest on the coast. 
 At present the enemy's ships can run in and lie there 
 as long as they please in perfect security, and the 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOV. 309 
 
 very presence of a French frigate will set the country 
 wild. England cannot afford to keep a ship there. 
 We intend, therefore, to have a fort on Bere Island, 
 with a company of infantry and a few artillery-men, 
 who are to be maintained there as long as the war 
 lasts ; and we have that confidence in yourself that we 
 shall ask you to take the command. Such at least 
 will be my advice to the Government. The Primate 
 will not oppose, so I think I can answer for it that 
 the appointment will be offered you. Vavasour shall 
 go round in a frigate and survey the ground. If you 
 ask him to stay with you, you will find him capital 
 company, only keep him off the Round Towers and 
 the ancient Serpent worship." 
 
 The warmest hopes which Goring had brought 
 with him to Dublin, were more than realized by a 
 proposal so gratifying. A position of authority and 
 command would give him the influence which he had 
 hitherto wanted, and the additional security would 
 enable his wife to return to him with safety. The 
 refusal of the registration of the chapel, however, 
 carrying with it as it did a sentence upon his school, 
 would be quite certain to wound and irritate his 
 people. Their life in Ireland in a quasi warlike 
 character had increased the stubbornness and inde- 
 pendence which belonged to their creed ; and they 
 were less inclined than ever to submit to accept a 
 toleration which consisted in an evasion of the law. 
 They were their Master's servants, and if they might 
 not wear his livery openly in Ireland, they would go 
 elsewhere. They attached immeasurable importance 
 to their school discipline, as the only means of saving 
 their children from catching the temper of the sur- 
 rounding population. They would not only resent the 
 
3IO THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 slight which had been perseveringly cast on therfi, but 
 would feel the injury as something not to be endured. 
 In all this, Goring himself actively sympathised. 
 Since his conversation with the Archbishop, he had 
 doubted strongly whether he had any right to call 
 himself a member of the Church of Ireland. With the 
 head of that Church he found that he had nothing 
 in common, while in faith and conviction he was one, 
 heart and soul, with his own congregation. For the 
 sake of honesty and consistenc}' he was tempted to 
 sever the connection ; and he hesitated and he told the 
 Speaker so, to accept another commission which would 
 pledge him afresh to the Establishment. 
 
 He was listened to with impatience. He asked for 
 time to deliberate. The Speaker, who was a man of 
 the world, and had to deal with questions as they 
 rose from a practical point of view, conceived these 
 new scruples to be as absurd as they were unseason- 
 able. He had a hundred things to attend to, and 
 what was to be decided must be decided at once. 
 Men who had shown such fine qualities as the Dunboy 
 Protestants must have intelligence enough to under- 
 stand that the laws of the country could not be 
 altered at once to please them. They ought to be 
 satisfied to know that they would not be molested. 
 " As to yourself, my dear Colonel," he said, " I have 
 every respect for scruples of conscience, but I would 
 remind you that man has two duties ; his duty to God, 
 and his duty to his country. Conscience extends to 
 both, and you have no right to disable yourself from 
 serving your King by exaggerated conceptions of 
 what your religious belief requires of you. You have 
 sense, and you have experience, and you can balance 
 one claim against the other. If the law required you 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 311 
 
 when you accepted a commission, to burn incense to 
 the Devil, of course you would refuse. If the law 
 required you to swear that you would obey the Pope, 
 you wouldn't do it. As it is, you are only asked to 
 communicate, which you have done many times 
 already, with no particular harm that I know of You 
 can be an ' occasional communicant,' I believe that is 
 the phrase. I don't know much about such things, 
 but I do know that your own prophets continued in 
 the Church till the Bishops turned them out. In short, 
 my good friend, it is your clear duty to stick to your 
 work. Nobody can do it as well as you can. I don't 
 understand this creed of yours, but I do see that it 
 makes a race of men who can be depended upon like 
 no others, when there is fighting work on hand and 
 danger to be faced. Therefore I, for my part, wish you 
 heartily well in this and all your enterprises. I tell you 
 again, you shall not be meddled with. The Bishops 
 may bark, but they will not bite while this war lasts, 
 and afterwards, perhaps we will draw their teeth. So 
 now God be with you. Vavasour shall have his orders, 
 and the sooner you are back at Dunboy the better. 
 
 '' By-the-bye, I forgot to tell you that we have news 
 of your friend Morty. After he escaped through 
 Dursey Sound, he made his way to France, refitted 
 at Blake's yard at Nantes, and went to sea again, 
 they say, with a letter of marque in proper form. He 
 is bound for the other side of the Atlantic, where, 
 unless he is caught, we shall hear of him burning and 
 plundering. If he can, he will raise the Irish in the 
 Sugar Islands, and set them to murder the planters. 
 On the second day that he was out, he robbed a 
 Liverpool ship off Scilly, and sailed away with 
 twenty thousand pounds and a dozen prisoners that 
 
312 THE TWO CHIEF'S OF DUNBOY. 
 
 he holds to ransom. Conceive the mischief that such 
 a fellow will do before we can get him hanged. You 
 see what you are responsible for in having let him go." 
 
 Brief as had been Colonel Goring's stay in Dublin, 
 a large experience had been crowded into those few 
 days. He had seen the very shrine and temple of 
 the amazing thing called the x^nglo-Irish Govern- 
 ment, the functions of which, so far as he could read 
 them, were to do what ought not to be done and to 
 leave undone what ought to be done. The reckless- 
 ness distressed him ; the levity shocked him. He was 
 no longer surprised at the indifference with which he 
 had been left to struggle unsupported in Bantry Bay. 
 He was as alive to the ridiculous side of it all as the 
 wittiest Counsellor at Achmet's dinner, and could 
 laugh at what he had seen till his eyes ran over. But 
 he did not care to prolong his visit. The position 
 which the Speaker had offered him, and which he had 
 not felt at liberty to refuse, promised, if he could, 
 reconcile his people to it, to make his situation at 
 Dunboy safer and more easy than it had been ; and as 
 the realities of war were already at work, and a visit 
 from an armed enemy was any day possible, he felt 
 the urgency of the Speaker's instructions, and was 
 ready to be off at once. He could not but feel a 
 certain relief at learning that Morty was far away. 
 It was not that he feared him, but he could not shake 
 off the feeling that Morty was dangerous to him, and 
 would again in some way or other be connected with 
 his fate. The bravest man is uneasy when he knows 
 that he has a deadly enemy on the watch for him in 
 his immediate neighbourhood. 
 
 Thus, on returning from his interview with the 
 Speaker, he gave his servant orders to prepare for 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY, 313 
 
 immediate departure. He took leave of the Provost, 
 with a promise to return in better times. Of his 
 kinsman he did not take leave, for Fitzherbert, to his 
 extreme pleasure, asked to be allowed to accompany 
 him. They were nearly of the same age. They had 
 been thrown together as children, but had rarely met 
 since. Goring had been absent on service. Fitzherbert 
 had followed a distinguished career at school and 
 college. He had won scholarships and gold medals, 
 and had for several years been Fellow of Trinit}'. 
 Now, when they were again thrown together, their 
 opposite qualities were interesting to each other. 
 Fitzherbert, being well provided for, had kept clear of 
 the three black Graces, neither of which (as Irish life 
 was then constituted) had too good a reputation. He 
 had a clear eye for men and things, but he did not 
 see that it was his business to mend them, and he 
 preferred the attitude of a spectator, amusing himself 
 with watching the chicaneries of political life. He 
 despised the patriots, because he knew what Irish 
 patriotism meant. He distrusted enthusiasm, and his 
 temperament inclined him to the sceptical tendencies 
 of the age. Careless of worldly advancement, he 
 moved ireely in a society which courted because it 
 feared him, enjoying what he could find to entertain 
 him, and making his own sarcastic comments on what 
 he saw and heard. To such a man, independent of 
 their relationship, the character of Goring was an 
 attractive study. When men talked of duty and dis- 
 interested motives, Fitzherbert generally believed them 
 to be either fools or rogues. He used to say that 
 on the rare occasions when he had gone against his 
 own interest to do something which he thought right, 
 he had found invariably that he had better have left it 
 
314 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 alone. Once or twice he had gone out of his way to 
 be kind to people at his own cost. He had always 
 had his face scratched for it. They would take what 
 he gave, but they never forgave him for laying them 
 under an obligation. And he used to say that they 
 were quite right, because in nine cases out of ten the be- 
 nevolent person had some sinister object of his own, and 
 the victim of his bounty really owed him nothing. In 
 the long run the safest rule for every one was to follow 
 his own interest. He must keep the Commandments. 
 He must not lie, or cheat, or steal ; but within those 
 lines a wise man would always do what was best for 
 himself. Nobody would then misunderstand him ; 
 all would be clear and above-board, and the general 
 result would be a better state of things than could 
 ever rise from efforts after exaggerated virtues. With 
 a mind so constituted Fitzherbert would naturally feel 
 little sympathy with his cousin's religious enthusiam 
 and spiritual convictions. But he found them com- 
 bined in Goring with a simplicity and practical 
 vigour unlike anything which hitherto he had 
 personally experienced, and he found himself specu- 
 lating on a problem which had often perplexed him. 
 Why was it that while in his own age the religious 
 professors were either charlatans, or at least unfit for 
 the rough work of the world, in the two preceding 
 centuries they were another order of beings ? In the 
 struggle of the Reformation the neutral mass of the 
 European nations would have acquiesced in any decision 
 which would have left them their properties and 
 their lives. Political liberty and freedom of conscience 
 had been won by fanatics, or by such persons as the 
 world now called fanatics. Every country had the 
 same experience. In France it was the Huguenots, 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 315 
 
 in the Low Countries the Calvinists, in Scotland the 
 Covenanters, in England the Puritans, in Ireland the 
 Boys of Derry and Enniskillen. The brunt of the 
 conflict everywhere had been borne by men of strongly 
 marked religious character, who, so far from being un- 
 practical, had achieved an extraordinary victory. Nor 
 was it in war and politics only that their distinguished 
 qualities were shown. It was the same in the com- 
 mon business of life. The best of the artisans, the 
 most successful merchants and manufacturers, the 
 seamen who had built up England's ocean empire 
 the successfully industrious everywhere, had been men 
 of the same type. What did it all mean ? What could 
 be the explanation of the change ? Often Fitzherbert 
 had asked himself and could find no answer; and 
 now this cousin of his had come across him as a 
 revenant from the old age. Here again was an 
 ardent professor of religion who was doing work 
 of the same kind, and doing it admirably well. 
 He had begun by studying him as a curiosity. 
 A character so natural, so vigorous, so cheerful, so 
 entirely indifferent to personal consequences, first 
 puzzled him as contradicting his theories, than woii 
 his respect, and finally his genuine admiration. He 
 still looked on Goring as half crazy, and considered 
 that unless he had some one to see after him he would 
 come to disaster ; but he was profoundly interested, 
 and became anxious to see with his own eyes this 
 colony of fighting Protestants which had so exaspe- 
 rated the Archbishop. 
 
 Goring, on the other hand, found under Fitz- 
 herbert's outward cynicism an essentially honourable 
 nature, an acute intellect, and a knowledge of men 
 and things incomparably greater than his own. His 
 
3i6 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 life at Dunboy had been lonely, and for his wife's sake, 
 who had insisted on rejoining him, as well as for his 
 own, he was delighted with the prospect of a visitor 
 who would brighten them up w^hen they were inclined 
 to be out of spirits. 
 
 Among the gentlemen of the county he had many 
 acquaintances, but hardly a friend. Most of them 
 disliked him for an activity which they felt as a 
 reproach to themselves. They might have fine 
 qualities of their own, but the Colonel and they were 
 so far apart that they failed to appreciate one another. 
 In his kinsman he found an Irishman who neither 
 drank, nor raced, nor gambled, who was reputed the 
 best talker in Dublin, yet did not think that the first 
 duty of man was to say something witty, and who 
 could tell him many things which he wanted to know. 
 With such a guest as Fitzherbert, with the promise of 
 another visitor in the famous General Vavasour, and 
 the prospects of an improved order of things which 
 Vavasour was to introduce, he looked forward to his 
 return home with better spirits than he had known 
 since Lord Shelbourne's death and the failure of his 
 hopes at Kilmakilloge. 
 
 His return was not a day too soon. He had been 
 absent little more than three weeks, but doubt and 
 distrust had begun to spread where hitherto there had 
 been only unanimity and resolution. French agents 
 were busy all over the South spreading disaffection. 
 Once more the population were inflated with the hope 
 which had so often betrayed them that a Catholic 
 army would soon arrive for their deliverance. It 
 showed itself in the insolence of their outward de- 
 meanour. It showed itself in acts of audacity and 
 defiance which hitherto they had been too cowardly 
 
rilE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 317 
 
 to venture on. No secrets were ever kept long in 
 Ireland. It leaked out by one channel or another 
 that the captain of the Aiolus had been rebuked fcr 
 remaining so long at Dunboy ; that the Colonel had 
 been refused any further assistance. It was even 
 said that he was in a scrape for his action at Glen- 
 gariff, and had been called to Dublin to answer for 
 himself. Morty's splendid escape at Dursey was a 
 Nationalist triumph ; and the colonists, who had lately 
 lived on tolerable terms with the people whomi they 
 employed at the mines, found their boats again 
 injured, their nets cut, their cattle maimed, and their 
 fences thrown d^own in the night. They were not 
 men to submit patientl}^ to injuries of this kind. 
 There had been fights in which several of the White- 
 boys had been hurt, one, it was supposed, mortally. 
 The Priest of the adjoining chapel had drawn and 
 forwarded a memorial to the Government, repre- 
 senting that members of his flock had been attacked 
 by the Protestant settlers. The Act of Parliament 
 forbade the Catholics to carry arms, and they had 
 been unable to defend themselves. He therefore 
 prayed the Government to protect them and disarm 
 the Colonists as well. 
 
 Thus, on the Colonel's arrival at home, instead of 
 the peace and improvement which he looked for, he 
 found all in confusion, and the elders of his congrega- 
 tion in serious deliberation what they ought to do. 
 There were difficulties at the mines as well. The plan 
 for the restoration of the furnaces on the Shelbourne 
 estate having failed, the ore had to be taken to 
 Swansea to be smelted ; and as the communications 
 became irregular with the breaking out of the war 
 trade had been suspended and profits diminished. The 
 
3i8 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 colonists were of tough material, and not easily dis- 
 couraged ; but they began to fear that it was not the 
 will of God that these Protestant settlements on the 
 Irish coast should prosper. Everywhere it was the 
 same story. Plantations had been tried in many parts 
 of the South during the past century. They had 
 withered one after another, as if in such a climate 
 they could not live. Failure so universal showed the 
 hand of Providence. They had relations at Boston 
 and Rhode Island, where Protestant communities 
 were thriving as in a Promised Land. In New 
 England there was unfettered worship, and there was 
 worldly prosperity. They began to think that they 
 had sin-ned like the children of Ephraim in hanging 
 back when their friends had crossed the Atlantic, and 
 therefore it was that they were encompassed with 
 enemies. They had met together to consult the Lord, 
 and the majority of them had concluded that they 
 would make their decision turn on the report which the 
 Colonel was to bring back with him from Dublin. If 
 they could be allowed their chapel and their minister, 
 if they could be allowed their school, where they could 
 educate their children according to their own discipline, 
 they would face their other troubles without complaint ; 
 they would understand that it was the Lord's pleasure 
 for them to remain. If, while for the disloyal Catho- 
 lics there was still to be unbounded indulgence, those 
 on whom the defence of the English interests had been 
 thrown, as the only loyal part of the population, were to 
 be harassed with disabilities, treated as an inferior order 
 of beings, and permitted to exist only at the pleasure 
 of the Church authorities, they would dishonour their 
 Master in Heaven if they submitted to such degrading 
 bondage. 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY 
 
 319 
 
 In this disposition Colonel Goring found the congre- 
 gation with whom he had fought so many battles against 
 fortune, just at the moment when he was expecting 
 that better days were about to dawn. He had looked 
 forward, perhaps with a shade of vanity, to showing 
 his kinsman a set of men the liKC of whom he had 
 never seen before, men who had the spirit of God in 
 them, of the same stuff and nature with those whom 
 he had read of and wondered at. He found them 
 unchanged ; but the same temperament and beliefs 
 which gave them their strength and quality were now 
 threatening the ruin of his hopes. He was not en- 
 tirely surprised. He had feared from the first the 
 effect of their resentment if their demand was rejected. 
 But he had made much to Fitzherbert of the disci- 
 pline and obedience which he would find among them. 
 The obedience was there, but it was to the supposed 
 will of a Superior Power which they had their own 
 means of ascertaining. 
 
 He had heard nothing to prepare him for what he 
 was to find. They arrived late. He was to meet his 
 people in the chapel in the morning, to hear what 
 they had to say, and to tell them in return the answer 
 which he had brought back. It was deep winter, 
 and night had fallen before they reached Dunboy, 
 so that it was with some curiosity that Fitzherbert 
 opened his window and looked about him when he 
 awoke in the morning. A warm south-westerly 
 wind was blowing in from the Atlantic; a swell 
 was breaking on the west end of Bere Island, and 
 the clouds hung low on Hungry Hill. But the sky 
 was open in the east, and the crests of the waves 
 in the Bay were sparkling in the sunshine ; while 
 mountains and woods were steeped in the soft 
 
320 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 purple green which makes the winter landscape in 
 the south of Ireland so peculiarly beautiful. The 
 village was early astir. The boats had been hauled 
 up on the shingle ; oars and sails had been stowed 
 away, and the nets spread to dry on the poles. A 
 large concourse of people was gathering about the 
 house ; men and women plainly but solidly dressed 
 in broadcloth and home-spun woollens. Fresh groups 
 continued to arrive while Fitzherbert watched, and he 
 calculated at last that there could not be less than two 
 hundred of them. A bell rang, and they filed into 
 the chapel behind the house. He hastily completed 
 his dressing and followed them. 
 
 If he had been struck by their appearance when seen 
 at a distance, their faces impressed him the more re- 
 markably when seen close at hand. They were of all 
 ages, from grey-bearded seniors who had passed their 
 three-score and ten, to youths just entering upon 
 manhood ; but in the features neither of old nor young 
 was there an\'thing of the strained austerit}^ which 
 Fitzherbert looked for. They were grave, as became 
 the place where they were assembled ; but they looked 
 frank and open, and their creed, whatever it was, ga\-e 
 them no appearance of unrealit}'. If there was any 
 common expression belonging to them all it was of 
 quiet unconscious steadiness. He was a little surprised 
 when Mrs. Goring sang Ken's Morning Hymn, and 
 the whole congregation joined, showing they were 
 familiar with it. A prayer followed, and then Colonel 
 Goring told his tale, or that part of it which the special 
 anxiet}' was to hear. There were two points on which 
 their minds were most exercised ; one was their chapel 
 service, the other the education of their children. In 
 both of these he had to say the Primate would make 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 321 
 
 no concession. To the first they had a right under 
 the statute, whether the Bishops approved or not, and 
 he intended to appeal to the law. The second was 
 less simple. Tlie right of teaching was rigidly reserved 
 by the statute to the clergy of the Establishment. He 
 had hop^d to get over the difficulty with the help of 
 the minister at Glengariff. But education they were 
 naturally and properly extremely anxious about. 
 Their children were in continual danger of being 
 influenced by the Catholic population round them. 
 They could be saved only by a strict system of 
 instruction which would take hold of their characters ; 
 and the clergyman's interference had been found 
 intolerable. On this subject, which was so very vital, 
 he was sorry to inform them that no formal concession 
 was to be looked for. At the same time, he was 
 empowered by very high authority to tell them that 
 they might do as the Catholics did. The Catholics 
 had their unregistered priests, and their schools, and 
 no one interfered with them. They might have their 
 chapel and their school discipline, and, as long as they 
 did not press for a formal license, no question would 
 be asked. As an evidence that the Government 
 appreciated what they had done, and intended to 
 support them, he added that a fort was to be built on 
 Bere Island, of which he himself was to have the 
 command. 
 
 Goring's communication was coldly received. 
 Towards himself the affection was unimpaired, but 
 the news which he brought was evidently unwelcome. 
 A venerable old man, the patriarch of the congrega- 
 tion, rose to reply. " It was no novelty," he said, 
 that the elect should suffer for conscience sake. 
 Their fathers had borne the cross when the nails hid 
 
 21 
 
322 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 torn into their flesh. The trials to which they were 
 called were of a milder kind, but at all times the 
 portion of the saints had been to suffer, and so it 
 would continue. They had come to Ireland as 
 strangers into a strange land, remembering what God 
 had done there by their hands in other days, and 
 hoping it might be given to them to do Him service 
 as their fathers had done. But they had cause to 
 fear that they had mistaken His purpose. The 
 authorities whom they had supported had dis- 
 owned them. The toleration extended to other 
 bodies of Christians was withheld from them. They 
 could only meet and pray together, and hear the 
 Word, by evading or breaking the law, a course of 
 action unbecoming in Christian men. Their young 
 people could not be married by their own minister. 
 They could not bury their own dead, but were 
 obliged to lay them in the common graveyard among 
 strangers. They had borne these hard terms, and 
 would have continued to bear them, but they found 
 now that they were not to be allowed to bring up 
 their children according to their conscience, or if they 
 chose to do so they must risk the indignity of being 
 prosecuted as criminals under a statute which neither 
 they nor their fathers had been able to endure. The 
 providence of God had opened to them a land 
 beyond the Atlantic where they could live in peace. 
 They had taken counsel with Him, and it had been 
 borne in upon them that they ought to go. They 
 loved and honoured Colonel Goring. They looked 
 up to him as the commander set over them by God ; 
 and as long as the battle was with the open enemies 
 of the truth they had been willing to carry on the un- 
 equal struggle. But they were cast off and despised. 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 323 
 
 Even if liberty of worship was conceded to them, 
 the}^ would still be unable to train their children as 
 they desired. The Colonel was dear to them all, and 
 they did not wish to part from him. Would not he 
 remain their leader still, and himself conduct them 
 to the land of promise ? Let him shake off the dust 
 of his feet against the inhospitable land, and ac- 
 company them to America, and they pledged them- 
 selves never to leave him ! 
 
 A hum of assent rose from the whole congregation. 
 The old man had expressed the universal feeling. 
 Goring was touched by their affection for himself — 
 touched by the readiness of a hundred families to 
 break up their homes and leave bejiind them the 
 fruits of }'ears of industry, but a small part of which 
 they could hope to take with them. He could not 
 say that they were not right. The trees of Paradise 
 were but exotics in such a land as he had discovered 
 Ireland to be, and it might be that they were never 
 to grow at all, and that the opportunity was past. 
 But his own duty was no less plain to him. 
 
 " When Ireland," he said, " was conquered by 
 Cromwell, and the Irish people, like the Canaanites, had 
 forfeited their estates by their cruelty and wickedness, 
 the land was distributed among the soldiers of his 
 army. There were those who thought that it ought to 
 be portioned out according to merit. But the noblest 
 and best preferred to leave the choice to Providence, 
 and declared that they would rather receive by lot 
 from the Lord a patch of barren mountain, than the 
 finest soil in Ireland by the judgment of man. What 
 those saintly men said to Cromwell I must say to 
 you. I have hesitated. I have been tempted to 
 return to my profession as a soldier, but my lot 
 
 21* 
 
324 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 has been assigned me in this country, and here at 
 my post I must stay till I am called away. On 
 you there is no such obligation. You came hither 
 with me at my own invitation, because it seemed 
 to you that there was work for us to do. We have 
 fought our battle together not unworthily. We 
 have turned the bogs into green fields. We have 
 gathered our harvests in the sea. We have dug our 
 copper out of the hills, and in worldly goods you are all 
 richer than \\\\^\\ you came hither. We have succeeded 
 mainly by our own strength in restraining the lawless- 
 ness which till we came prevailed in Bantry Bay. These 
 are not signs that God has set His face against us. If 
 troubles threaten us now, they may be no more than 
 the clouds which gather over our mountains and pass 
 awa}/ and leave them as they were. My friends, I 
 cannot go with you to the New World, but I will ask 
 no one to stay with me here against his will. If it is 
 your conviction that you can live and work to a 
 higher purpose there than here, then go. It will 
 be your duty to go. If }^ou prefer to return to 
 England, I undertook when you joined me that if, 
 after trial, you were dissatisfied with your Irish home, 
 I would send you back at my own cost. I thank 
 you for the affection which )'ou ]ia\-e expressed to 
 myself. I should ill deserve your confidence if I was 
 less frank with you than you have been with me. 
 Only this I will say. Decide nothing in haste. War 
 with France has broken out, and there is danger here. 
 If I know you, you will net choose this particular 
 moment to leave me." 
 
 Gravely the old man replied. '* It may be, sir, as 
 you say. We must weigh this matter before we act. 
 We must not tempt the Lord by following blindly our 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 325 
 
 carnal judgment. But how know we, sir, handled as 
 wc have been, that if we draw the sword in defence 
 of the Government our service will be well re- 
 ceived? In 17 1 5, when Scotland rose, there was 
 danger of invasion in this country. The British 
 Army had been removed, and Ireland was un- 
 defended. Our brethren in Ulster took arms. They 
 brought thirty thousand volunteers into the field, 
 equipped and officered by themselves, and what was 
 their reward ? Their leaders were threatened with 
 prosecution, as being disqualified from holding com- 
 missions under the statute ! " 
 
 " You remember rightly," said Colonel Goring. 
 " It was as you say, and shame on those who made 
 so unworthy a return for our brethren's patriotism ! 
 But remember also what came of it. The Parliament 
 brushed away those legal cobwebs. A resolution was 
 passed in the House of Commons that anyone who 
 molested those loyal men for the service which they 
 had done was an enemy to his country, and the result 
 vv-as the partial Toleration Act, which was carried in 
 spite of the Bishops' resistance. Of this Act, if we are 
 patient, we shall surely be allowed the benefit. The 
 Primate's charge against us is that we are Re- 
 publicans and Anarchists, and bear no good will to 
 our King and constitution. I shall be sorry — I shall 
 be sorry, if we let ourselves be provoked by injustice 
 into giving him an excuse for his accusations. But 
 you must judge for yourselves. Whether you go or 
 stay, I. remain." 
 
 The meeting broke up. It was agreed that, unless 
 they were interfered with by force, they would wait 
 six months before coming to a final resolution. 
 
 The intention of fortifying the Island created a 
 
326 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 stroni^ impression. If it was carried out, the difficul- 
 ties with the people would be at an end. But they 
 distrusted the promises of the Government, and 
 could not fully believe in its sincerity till the work 
 was done or was in progress. They resented the in- 
 dignity with which they had been treated, and 
 nothing would satisfy them short of a full concession 
 of their rights. They dissolved into groups as they 
 left the chapel, and dispersed in scattered parties to 
 their homes. Some, whose severe faces were lined 
 with the temper of the Cameronians, thought that no 
 good could come to a country which had not shaken 
 off the mother Iniquity of Episcopalianism. To 
 them a Bishop, whether Reformed or Catholic, was a 
 minister of Antichrist, the living incarnation of 
 Papistical enormities. With the second-sight of intense 
 religious earnestness, they perceived that as long as a 
 Primate of the Church was the first person in the 
 Executive Government, between him and them there 
 would be always enmity. They had inherited their 
 principles from the time of the Commonwealth, and 
 were not to be moved from them. Others were 
 humanly anxious for the education of their children, 
 were sorry to think of leaving the colony, but were 
 unable to see how they could remain. Others again, 
 the }'ounger ones, bred in the rough coast ^^'ork of the 
 South of England, had enjo\'ed the adventurous life 
 of the smuggler hunting, and were well contented as 
 long as they could make a comfortable living. They 
 regarded the Irish as a set of scarceh- human savages, 
 and anyone of themselves as a match for a dozen of 
 them. From among these Goring had chiefly taken 
 his companions on his expeditions, and they felt a com- 
 radeship with him which they were unwilling to break. 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOV. 327 
 
 Again in some there was a more tender feeling. A 
 woman caught his hand as she left the chapel, and 
 said, with Ruth : " Whither thou goest I will go, and 
 where thou lodgest I will lodge. Thy people shall be 
 my people, and thy God my God. Where thou diest 
 I will die, and there will I be buried. The Lord do 
 so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee 
 and me." 
 
 In Fitzherbert, the scene which he had witnessed 
 created mere astonishment. He had heard much of 
 Dissenters. He had been present at some of their 
 meetings. The newspapers had been full of stories 
 of W^esley's gatherings in London, where hysterical 
 women fell into fits as if possessed by Satan, and Satan 
 was cast out by exorcisms. He had come to a con- 
 clusion that, whatever he might have been in an earlier 
 generation, the modern Nonconformist was a vain, 
 ijnorant, fanatical, and not always honest being, 
 whom it was unwise to persecute, because he was too 
 silly to be dangerous, but whose actions and opinions 
 were beneath the notice of serious men. He had 
 found himself at Dunboy in the pre;ence of a set of 
 persons whose professed convictions had made them 
 into strong resolute men of powerful character. The 
 very phrases which he had thought presumptuous and 
 silly, of " taking counsel with God," " God's purpose 
 with them," and such like, had evidently a real 
 meaning ; and plain seamen, mechanics and farmers, 
 as they were, they had an inflexibility of purpose, 
 and an indifference to personal gain and advantage, 
 which made them exceptions to every form of human 
 being whom he had hitherto fallen in with. 
 
 " The English Government," he said to Goring, 
 " has been shrewder than I gave it credit for. If 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOV. 
 
 Cromwell left Ireland covered over with such com- 
 munities as yours, which I suppose he did, the 
 Viceroys, and Peers, and Bishops, who were set to 
 govern with the modern commercial code, would have 
 had an uneasy time of it. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 Month after month went by, and Fitzherbert was 
 ^till a guest at his cousin's house. He was occupied 
 partly in studying the ways of the colony, partly in 
 examining the old stones and circles, and monuments 
 of the ancient race, which are strewed about the 
 m.ountains and valleys. Winter turned to Spring, and 
 Spring to early Summer, and nothing more occurred 
 to disturb the quiet of the settlement. The ill-wind 
 w^hich had risen among the Catholic population died 
 away again. There were rumours of moonlight 
 meetings, like that which Goring had witnessed at 
 the Pocket, of the coming of the French, and of a 
 contemplated general insurrection. But stories of 
 this kind were always current in the South of Ireland. 
 Loose powder lay about everywhere, but it was damp, 
 and required fire to kindle it ; and in spite of the 
 French \\-ar the signs of active disturbance were 
 lighter than usual. The registration question lingered 
 on. Goring sent in his appeal to the Courts in 
 Dublin. The Courts refeired him back to the Quarter 
 Sessions in his own county. The iVIagistrates 
 waited for instructions from the Primate, being unable 
 to decide whether the tenets of the new sect entitled 
 them to the benefit of the Act or not, and the 
 Primate's direction was to wait till the m.atter could 
 be more fully considered. But there was no fresh 
 Inhibition. And as long as the suspense lasted, 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 329 
 
 Goring assumed that the judgment must be 
 eventually in his favour, and acted as if it had been 
 ah'eady given. 
 
 News were heard occasionally of Morty Sullivan. 
 He had been the terror of the Bahama Channel. He 
 had made an insurrection among the Irish convicts at 
 Montserrat, and had gorged himself and his crew 
 with plunder. When last heard of, he was lying 
 concealed somewhere among the Spanish Islands ; 
 but a couple of frigates had been sent in search of 
 him, and it was thought that he could not long 
 escape. Meanwhile, the coasts of Cork were less 
 disturbed than they had been. The Swansea vessels 
 came back again for the copper ore, and the mining 
 work went on briskly again. The chief disappoint- 
 ment was that General Vavasour had not appeared to 
 survey Bere Island. He was often coming, but 
 business of some kind or another had detained him ; 
 and Goring's heart had begun to misgive him, that 
 the Speaker's promises were after all no more than 
 vapour, when, one afternoon in June, a revenue cutter 
 came in from the sea, and brought up in the basin in 
 front of Dunboy. A boat came on shore from her, 
 and the long-expected officer had arrived. 
 
 General Vavasour was the most distinguished of 
 the rising officers in the English Service. He was a 
 person of the most varied accomplishments, and, as 
 often happens, he valued himself highest for his 
 knowledge of subjects on which he was no more than 
 amateur, and was modestly unconscious of his merits 
 where those merits were indisputable. As a scientific 
 engineer he eclipsed all his contemporaries, but his 
 pride was in the discoveries which he believed him- 
 self to have made in the history of the ancient Irish. 
 
330 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 Instead of a nation of quarrelsome septs, perpetually 
 murdering each other, he had found them to be a 
 profoundly interesting people, who had come to 
 Europe from the East, bringing with them the creed 
 of the Persian Magi. The Druids were Priests 
 of the Sun. Their ritual was a symbol of the ancient 
 astronomy, and the Round Towers were their 
 Temples. He had studied the Druidical monuments 
 in other parts of Europe. He had examined 
 Stonehenge ; he had examined Abury ; he had ex- 
 amined Carnac in Brittany, and they all told him the 
 same story. He had made drawings of the tombs 
 and cromlechs and stone circles in Ireland. He had 
 taken their dimensions and magnetic bearings, and 
 had drawn conclusions which, if dubious to other 
 people, were indisputable to himself. He illustrated 
 his inferences from surviving traditionary customs, 
 whose practice had survived the knowledge of their 
 meaning, and he had devoted his leisure moments to 
 the investigation of these subjects, with the en- 
 thusiasm of an antiquary and the inspiration of a 
 poet. 
 
 " It admits of no doubt whatever," he would say. 
 '' Those old legends of the Tuatha de Danans may 
 be dreams, but the imagery of dreams is always 
 drawn from reality. The Irish language is iden- 
 tical in structure with the Persian of the Zendavesta. 
 The traditions run on the same lines. The name of 
 Druid, which foolish persons have connected with 
 Oak Groves, and supposed to be Greek, is as little 
 Greek as it is Red Indian. It is the Persian 
 Draoidh, the wise man of the Plast. The bonfire 
 which the Gal way or the Killarney peasant passes 
 his children through on St. John's Eve, is the 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 331 
 
 fire of Moloch, which was denounced by the 
 Jewish prophets. Tlie Round Towers were Bel 
 Tines built after the story of the Tower of Babel, 
 when the sons of the survivors of the Deluge built 
 their Temple to the visible Gods in the sky." 
 
 Vavasours acquaintances generally took flight 
 when he brought out his hobby. The Speaker 
 especially dreaded the sight of the beast. Fitz- 
 herbert, however, who knew him well, tempted him 
 to mount on all occasions ; professing always the 
 deepest interest, and the greatest willingness to 
 believe till some one equally learned proved exactly 
 the opposite. 
 
 " No one can prove the opposite," Vavasour would 
 say, *' for, look you, the Tower of Babel was the first 
 Temple ever built. Babel was Bel, Belus, or the Sun, 
 and the symbol of him was the Bull, the Minotaur, 
 the Apis of Egypt, the Golden Calf of Aaron, in 
 the feminine, the heifer Baal, the cowfaced Juno, the 
 transformed lo. Jupiter when he carried off Europa 
 took the same form. And why this symbol ? Because 
 the Festival of the Sun was held at the Vernal 
 Equinox, and five thousand years ago the Sun 
 crossed the line six weeks later than it does now, 
 exactly at the time when he entered the Constel- 
 lation Taurus. We have thus the date fixed for us 
 of the earliest of all religions. It was first pure. 
 It then became Idolatrous, and mankind were 
 puni-shed by the confusion of tongues, and by a 
 miraculous dispersion. The Celtic branch was carried 
 westward, and was deposited in Spain, and France, 
 and the British Isles. They brought their creed and 
 their knowledge along with them, and their monu- 
 ments still survive among us." 
 
332 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 Fitzhcrbcrt would listen reverentially, only 
 dropping here and there some uncomfortable 
 objection, which would be imperiously dismissed. 
 My Uncle Toby ventured once to reply to a dis- 
 quisition of Mr. Shandy's : " My dear brother, what 
 has a man who believes in God to do with all this ? " 
 Fitzherbert, while admitting the possible truth of 
 Vavasour's theories, dared on a single occasion to ask 
 what all that had to do with Ireland ? But he never 
 repeated his question ? 
 
 " My dear friend," Vavasour answered, " it has 
 everything to do with it. You observe, that as the 
 Bull was the symbol of the Sun, so in the same 
 theology the Serpent was the symbol of intellect. 
 The serpent was the tempter in Paradise, who led 
 our parents to the fatal Tree of Knowledge. The 
 Serpent was the guardian of the golden apples. The 
 Serpent lay wreathed under the altar of Pallas at 
 Athens. The Serpent in Sanchoniathon was the 
 type of Eternity. In shedding its skin it was sup- 
 posed to renew its life for ever, and to be naturally 
 immortal. Thus when we read that St. Patrick 
 banished the snakes out of Ireland, we are merely 
 reading an allegory ; the Christian Apostle was 
 making an end of the ancient creed." 
 
 After so luminous a reply, Fitzherbert would pro- 
 fess himself convinced, and Vavasour would flow on 
 unrestrained. 
 
 Such was the officer who had come from Cork, as 
 was supposed, to draw the plans for the Fort on the 
 Island, and it was with no little satisfaction that his 
 arrival was greeted at Dunboy. Goring thought 
 that he was now to be relieved of the strain of 
 anxiety and expectation. Fitzherbert was delighted 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 533 
 
 to meet again a companion whose speculations 
 amused him, and whom he respected for his accom- 
 phshments. They met their visitor at the landing 
 place. " What an exquisite spot ! " the General said 
 as he stepped ashore. " Well for mankind that, amidst 
 the vulgar occupations of common life, there are still 
 places where it is possible to be reasonably happy. 
 How can I sufficiently congratulate you. Colonel 
 Goring, that one of the most beautiful of these has 
 fallen to your lot ? " 
 
 Charming as land and sea appeared in the summer 
 sunshine, such an enthusiastic exclamation scarcely 
 met the condition of Colonel Goring's feelings. He 
 missed some allusion to the matter of which his mind 
 was full. He said everything that was proper, 
 however, observing merely that he hoped the 
 General's visit would enable him to enjoy their 
 blesssings in more tranquillity." 
 
 '' I trust it will be so," the General said. " All the 
 knowledge which I possess will be at your service. 
 I am sorry only that my stay can be but brief, too 
 brief to exhaust a hundredth part of the interest 
 which attaches to so remarkable a neighbourhood, 
 I must leave you in three days ; but wq will turn 
 to profit every hour of them. We will begin to- 
 morrow — we will begin this instant, if you are dis- 
 engaged. To me life is only precious for what it 
 enables me to learn and to do." 
 
 '' You are a most zealous officer, General Vavasour," 
 Goring answered. " Would that more were like you 
 in the Service ! We have still some hours of daylight 
 and, if you really wish it, a boat shall take us at once 
 to the Island." 
 
 The General looked puzzled. " The Island ! " he 
 
334 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 said. " Is it possible that there, too, fresh treasures 
 have been found ? I had not heard of this." 
 
 " I beheve that an old gun has been turned up 
 on the site of Carew's battery," said Goring. " I 
 am sorry, however, that I must confess my care- 
 lessness. I have not even looked at it. The 
 position you will see is unsuited for a modern 
 fort which is to command the anchorage." 
 
 " Carew's cannon ! " replied the General. " You do 
 well to be indifferent to such worthless rubbish. 
 But the fort — I know nothing of a fort. Oh ! yes ; 
 by-the-bye, yes. When I told the Governor of Cork 
 that I was coming here, he did ask me to take a glance 
 at the Island, and see whether in case of necessity a 
 gun or two could be mounted there. Any time will 
 do for that, however. I must first see what you have 
 to show me up these valleys of yours." 
 
 To Goring, whose thoughts and hopes were fastened 
 on the prospect which the Speaker had held out to 
 him, General Vavasour's words were unintelligible. 
 What else could there be in the neighbo,urhood which 
 the General was so anxious about ? After a moment's 
 reflection, he concluded that the reputation of his 
 Protestant garrison had reached the General's ears, 
 and that he wanted to see what the men were like 
 that he had about him. Most of his people, he said, 
 were away at the mines, and the boats were on the 
 Bay fishing ; but they would walk through the village 
 and see their families, and there should be a muster 
 under arms the next morning. 
 
 " Gad ! Goring," said the General, *' they told me 
 you were half mad with your Methodists, or whatever 
 they are — a very irregular and disorderly set of 
 rogues, from what I have heard of them. Sorry I am 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 335 
 
 that a fine fellow like you should have taken up 
 with such a pack. I hope they have done no mischief 
 here. The Puritan scoundrels in England tore the 
 Abbeys down, and spoilt half the churches, Vandals 
 that they were. I have known a cromlech in Cornwall 
 split to pieces to mend a road. If your fellows have 
 been at the same work here, I will never forgive 
 them." 
 
 " General Vavasour," Goring coldy replied, " I am 
 gratified that you have done me the honour cf 
 visiting Dunboy. Nothing shall be wanting on my 
 part to make your stay agreeable to you. I confess, 
 however, that I am somewhat at a loss. The Speaker 
 of the House of Commons, Lord Shannon, I believe 
 I must now call him, led me to expect your assistance 
 in providing for the defence of the harbour here. I 
 supposed your arrival to be connected with this under- 
 taking. I regret my mistake if I have made one. 
 As to my tenants and workmen, they are brave and 
 loyal subjects. They have done good service to the 
 State, and I hope will do it again." 
 
 Fitzherbert, who had been struggling with his 
 laughter, vexed at heart though he was at the distress 
 which he knew that his friend must be feeling, struck 
 in to prevent further cross purposes. 
 
 " You do not know the treasures you are possessed 
 of, Goring," he said. *' Our little troubles down here 
 are but the accidents of the moment. The General is 
 occupied with the secrets of Irish national history, of 
 which he believes the key to be in these mountains." 
 
 " Of course," cried the General, his eyes beaming at 
 once with pleasure and good humour. '' Have you 
 not within reach of an easy day's expedition the 
 precious sandstone slab, which, if the engravings do 
 
336 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 not lie, is an ancient snake ring. Have you not a fort 
 more precious than any which we could build, the 
 most perfect now left in Northern Europe, which I 
 expect will settle the question about Stonehenge ? " 
 
 " I believe there are such things, sir," Gordon 
 replied. " I am a poor ignorant soldier and know 
 nothing of them, but all I have is at your disposition. 
 But we are at my house, excuse me for a few minutes. 
 I must see that your rooms are ready for you." 
 
 His hopes had been built upon the promised 
 garrison. They all seemed blown to the winds, and 
 he required to be alone with his wife to recover 
 himself. 
 
 Fitzherbert meanwhile explained to the General 
 how matters stood, and Vavasour, who was really a 
 kind-hearted man, and was a keen and shrewd officer 
 when the antiquarian fit was off him, recognised at 
 once how deep must be their friend's disappointment, 
 and how real the dangers against which he had been 
 contending single-handed, how admirable and patriotic 
 his conduct had been, and how idly and carelessly he 
 had been treated. It was a typical instance of Irish 
 administration. Lord Shannon had meant what he 
 said. A warning had reached him just at the time of 
 a probable descent on the coast of Cork or Kerry, 
 and he had sincerely intended that the harbour at 
 Berehaven should be put in a state of defence. But 
 the alarm passed off The French seemed to be occu- 
 pied elsewhere. When Goring was in Dublin, Shannon 
 was on doubtful terms with the Primate. But they 
 had made up their differences. He had secured his 
 Earldom and his pension, and preferred to let a 
 subject drop which might have led to fresh questions 
 between them. He sincerely wished Goring well, but 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 337 
 
 he believed he was no longer in danger. Thus time 
 had run on, and it was not till Vavasour had applied 
 for a short summer's leave of absence, and had men- 
 tioned that he was going in search of antiquities to 
 Dunboy, that he was told to take a look at Bere 
 Island, and see whether anything could be made of it 
 in case of necessity. 
 
 He was sorry on all accounts, sorry especially for 
 the light tone in which he had himself spoken, and 
 when they met again at dinner he was the soldier, 
 the engineer, the brother officer. The Fire Towers 
 and the Tuatha de Danans were forgotten ; the French, 
 the Whiteboys, the possible insurrection, and the 
 means of dealing with it, appeared to be the oily 
 subjects with which his mind was occupied. He 
 cross-questioned Goring about the smugglers, heard 
 in detail the story of the fight at Glengariff, applauded 
 the courage of the colonists, and applauded Goring 
 for having introduced so admirable a set of men. He 
 forgave even their religious peculiarities. A creed 
 which made them brave and stubborn, could not be 
 far out of the square, and when he was assured that 
 they were educated and intelligent and would never 
 think of injuring anything that was old and curious, 
 it almost seemed as if he was ready to become a 
 convert himself 
 
 It was agreed before they parted for the night 
 that the next day should be devoted to an elaborate 
 survey of the Island, and the General undertook to 
 report on the necessity of doing something or other 
 to defend the harbour, whether the method before 
 suggested should appear feasible or not. 
 
 Thus he almost succeeded in driving away the un- 
 pleasant impression which he had created on his first 
 
 22 
 
338 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 arrival, and restoring Goring's hopes and spirits. 
 i\lmost, but not entirely, for the shock had been deep, 
 and he knew too well that his position was at stake. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 Morning came blue and cloudless. The sun rose 
 over Hungry Hill, flashing on the thousand tiny 
 waves which rippled the grey waters of Bantry 
 Bay. The boats had come in from the sea, and 
 the miners and farmers off the Hill ; and fishermen 
 and landsmen mustered under arms for General 
 Vavasour's inspection. There were a hundred and 
 twenty of them, old and young, and the General 
 found himc.elf astonished into real admiration. In 
 this army of Sv/addlers, he saw before him a set of 
 men whom he would be as well pleased to have 
 behind him in the most dangerous service he could 
 be sent upon, as he would have liked ill to find 
 them in his front. After a few e\'olutions there was 
 firing at a floating target to show the quality of 
 the shooting. The fishermen took their boats and 
 made a sham attack on the Revenue cutter, which 
 found herself unexpectedly with a floating mine 
 under her side, which was hanging by a rope from 
 her cable. A boat race followed, and when the 
 General went in to breakfast on fresh caught whiting 
 v/hich had been brought in at daylight, he had come 
 to a conclusion that if Cromwell's Protestant settle- 
 ments had all resembled the colony at Dunboy, less 
 wisdom had been shown in extinguishing them than 
 he had been in the habit of imagining. 
 
 The day, as had been arranged, had been given to 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DJNBOY. 339 
 
 the Island. Sites were examined, rocks were tested, 
 and measurements were accurately taken. The water 
 supply question was gone into. Soundings were 
 taken at the anchorage, and the range of guns calcu- 
 lated. Once launched upon the business of the pro- 
 fession, the General's enthusiasm warmed to the work. 
 He was not contented with the Island. He examined 
 different points upon the mainland. He made the 
 men row him to Adrigoole, to see whether something 
 could be made of that. He said little, but he sketched 
 and made notes incessantly, and his silent eagerness 
 was more satisfactory, a great deal, than a profusion 
 of words would have been. The morning- foUowinsf 
 was spent in writing a report, which he gave Goring 
 to read and make suggestions on. It set forth how, 
 without difficulty, any French cruiser might take 
 possession of the harbour, with the most dangerous 
 effect upon the population. It contained a plan for 
 the defence of the place, and advised that it should be 
 carried out without delay. Knowing the habits of 
 Dublin Castle, he said that his despatch should be 
 forwarded to the English authorities, from whom 
 there was better hope of attention. 
 
 Two days out of the three which the General could 
 allow himself, having been thus consumed, the least 
 which Goring could do was to let him have the third 
 to himself, mount his hobby, and go in search of the 
 antiquities. 
 
 General Vavasour, being slightly ashamed of his 
 outburst on the day of his arrival, had felt a delicacy 
 about suggesting it himself ; but when Mrs. Goring 
 appealed to him not to leave Dunboy without giving 
 herself and her husband the benefit of his unrivalled 
 knowledge, he eagerly consented. 
 
 22-'' 
 
340 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 The most impd-tant of the curiosities were in a 
 valley some mnles distant. The greater part of the 
 way, they were to go by water. Mrs. Goring joined 
 the party, and they set off together ; cares and 
 anxieties laid aside for an entire day of amusement 
 and instruction. The sea was smooth ; the Colonel's 
 six-oared gig bore them rapidly across an arm of 
 the bay ; and they were landed at the mouth of a 
 small river, from which point they were to walk. 
 Summer was in the pride of its beauty ; the air was 
 scented with fresh-cut hay ; the wild rose-bushes were 
 covered with blosssom, and the hill sides were pink 
 with foxgloves. The wet bogs shone with asphodel 
 and orchids ; and the large blue pinguicolas — loveliest 
 of all the wild flowers of Ireland — luxuriated in the 
 peat, where the water dripped on them off the 
 rocks. A couple of boatmen carried the luncheon- 
 basket, and they proceeded for a mile up the course 
 of the stream, till they came to a broad and shallow 
 valley, full of rich grass, with high mountains rising 
 on either side. To enter it, they had to pass over the 
 projecting shoulder of one of the lower hills, on the 
 top of which the soil had been long washed away. 
 The red sandstone was spread out bare and flat, and 
 some one at some time or other had smoothed and 
 polished a few square yards of it. On this he had 
 drawn a circle, enclosing it with a line, which was 
 crossed and doubled as if to represent a twisted rope. 
 Over the area, inside the circumference, w^ere scattered 
 a number of rings of various sizes, deeply cut in the 
 stone, with central holes in each, and an occasional 
 spot on the edge of the ring itself ; while in and out 
 among these circles were lines and strokes, appearing 
 to mean something, from the regularity of their 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 341 
 
 figures, but what the meaning could be, there was 
 nothing to show. This was their first object ; and 
 Vavasour sprang upon his prize, as a hawk upon a 
 partridge. He produced an engraving, which he 
 compared, point by point, with the original, and then 
 flung it away in disgust. " It is always so," he mut- 
 tered. " The fools start with an idea, and then draw 
 their own notions, and not what they see. They 
 made me belie\is it was a snake-ring, with which it 
 has not the faintest resemblance ; but if not that — 
 What is it, and who made it, and when ? " 
 
 " That is for an expert, like you, to explain," said 
 Fitzherbert, " I am no conjurer. Somebody has 
 taken a great deal of trouble here ; but whether it 
 was a fortune-teller, or dealer in charms and spells, or 
 whether some idle hand was making a board for the 
 shepherd boys to play games upon, I cannot pretend 
 to guess. Where there are a thousand possibilities, 
 the odds are heavy against conjecture." 
 
 " That is right," said the General, " never guess, 
 unless you know. I am puzzled myself. The marks 
 are not what I expected." 
 
 He knelt upon the rock, counted the number of 
 rings, measured the distance of one from the other, 
 and of each from the centre, then examined the lines 
 and scratches. I see what it may be," he said, " and 
 though it disappoints me in one way, it may settle a 
 curious point of history. But there ought to be a fort 
 in the valley close by — Cahir Askill, I believe they 
 call it. The fort and the stone will, surely, be in some 
 wa}/ connected, and one will help us to understand 
 the other." 
 
 Cahir Askill was, in fact, not a quarter-of-a-mile 
 from the engraved stone, and lay in the valley below 
 
342 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 the hill on which they were standing. Walking for- 
 Vv^arci a hundred yards, they came in sight of a circular 
 fort, as it was called ; an enclosure, erected in the 
 middle of an open meadow, a hundred and fifty feet 
 in diameter, and surrounded by a thick wall, con- 
 structed so solidly that two-thirds of it were still in 
 fair condition. The stones were large, and the more 
 important of them had been rudely hewn. There was 
 one distinct entrance ; and signs of where another 
 might have been, on the opposite side ; while on the 
 inner side of the wall there were stone staircases, 
 leading to the top of it; and underneath each of 
 these a chamber, large enough to hold ten or twelve 
 men. The remainder of the interior area was entirely 
 vacant, no trace of building of any kind being visible 
 in any part of it. From the entrance to the rocky 
 side of the valley, the distance was about two hun- 
 dred yards, the space intervening being covered with 
 rich grass, and never, apparently, having been in any 
 other condition. 
 
 Tradition describes the place as an ancient Danish 
 fortress. The least instructed eye could perceive that 
 the hollow cellars under the steps were meant to con- 
 tain human beings. The steps themselves gave access 
 to the top of the walls, and the walls seemed as if 
 they must have been meant for a defence of some 
 kind ; yet, as they all instantly observed, no building 
 could have been contrived less capable of resisting a 
 serious attack ; the fortifications, if such they were, 
 being low, and exposed on all sides, while within 
 there was no shelter of any kind, or place of retreat, 
 should the outer lin^ be carried. The Danes, barba- 
 rians though they might be, were men of sense ; they 
 knew how to build and navigate ships ; they could 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 343 
 
 twist ropes and make sail-cloth ; they could work in 
 metals ; they had built sea-port towns in Ireland, and 
 carried on trade. It was not conceivable that men so 
 generally capable would have made a fortress on so 
 absurd a principle, if such was the real nature of it. 
 
 Fitzherbert waited to hear what the great authority 
 would say. He had his own private doubts whether 
 a building put together without mortar, and so loosely 
 constructed, would have survived from such a high 
 antiquity. Irish legend, he conceived, was an in- 
 sufficient authority on such a subject. Eight hundred 
 years of rain and frost must have left traces of de- 
 composition. His eye told him that the wall was 
 made of stones of all kinds, soft and hard, )'et the 
 softest was but slightly weather-worn ; but he held 
 his tongue, till Vavasour should deliver himself 
 
 Goring, who had seen the place before, was not so 
 prudent. He was no antiquarian. But he had sense 
 to see plain objects and draw plain conclusions from 
 them. He said that, in his opinion, the enclosure was 
 nothing but a cattle pound. The pasture in the valley 
 was the richest in the neighbourhood. Down to the 
 seventeenth century, and much later, in disordered 
 times, the Irish chiefs amused themselves with driving 
 each other's cows at night. Here was a fold where 
 the herds which fed on these hills and meadows could 
 be gathered in at sunset. The walls, poor as they 
 were, would suffice to keep off small parties of thieves, 
 and a handful of men distributed among the case- 
 mates, from which they could spring up at a moment's 
 notice, would be sufficient protection. The raids 
 were on moonlight nights, and as the ground was 
 open all round an attacking party would be seen 
 approaching by the sentinels ; and further, the fort 
 
344 
 
 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 stood at a spot selected carefully so as to be out of 
 bow-shot or crossbow-shot from the nearest crags. 
 In short, Goring's opinion was that they were look- 
 ing at a monument of what Ireland had been when 
 left to her own people, before English authority had 
 begun to curb the lawless tendencies of her own 
 children. 
 
 The General listened languidly. With one side 
 of his mind he recognised that Goring was possibly 
 right. But he had formed large expectations of this 
 Cahir Askill. It had been described to him as the 
 most remarkable of all surviving Irish remains. It 
 must have had some connection with the flat stone, 
 and the flat stone could have had nothing to do with 
 cattle stealing. Leaving Goring and his wife beside 
 the luncheon basket, he walked round the building 
 with Fitzherbert, examined the stones for inscriptions, 
 of which he found none, looked carefully at the peaks 
 of the different mountains which overhung the valley, 
 and took their bearings with compass and quadrant. 
 It happened to be Midsummer Day, and high noon. 
 Having a measuring rod with him, six feet long, he 
 fixed it vertically in the centre of the enclosure. 
 " Look here," he said, and he pointed to the shadow 
 of the rod upon the ground. " You have here the 
 earliest observation of the ancient astronomers. That 
 stick is a gnomon. The direction and length of the 
 shadow fixes the meridian for you. To-day the sun 
 is at its highest elevation for the whole year, and the 
 shadow is, therefore, the shortest. It was here a few 
 minutes ago," he said, pointing to a scratch he had 
 made in the clay. " Now you see where it is, here. 
 With this simple instrument the ancients fixed tke 
 time of the solstice, and each dav the exact moment 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY, 345 
 
 of noon. From the sun they passed tc the moon and 
 the stars, and the science of astronomy was begun." 
 
 Fitzherbert's eyes ghmmered. He could not guess 
 what was coming, but he congratulated himself on his 
 own forbearance. The gnomon must be leading up 
 to the fort, but by what extraordinary route. He 
 did venture to ask, however, whether the results which 
 it gave depended on its situation, and whether it 
 would not have yielded the same results if it had been 
 set up anywhere else. 
 
 " I admit that it would, most sapient Fellow of 
 Trinity. But now observe that large stone on the 
 top of the wall, under the sun. At noon the sun was 
 exactly over it, as we stand here at the centre. Look 
 the other way, and you will see a corresponding stone 
 under the North Star. Here are marks definitely 
 pointing to the two poles." 
 
 " And what then ? " enquired Fitzherbert, eagerly. 
 
 " If you had read science at college, as you ought to 
 have done, instead of wasting your time upon litera- 
 ture, you would not have required to ask, ' what then ? ' 
 Why then, finding sun, moon, and planets moving 
 about among the stars, finding some stars rising and 
 setting, others revolving about a point above the 
 horizon, and the single North Star remaining fixed in 
 its place, those old people, being men of lofty 
 thoughts, determined to discover the law of those 
 erratic bodies, and they measured their movements 
 by watching how they bore towards fixed objects, 
 which were always the same. The Egyptians and 
 Babylonians erected towers and walls for the purpose. 
 Stonehenge had the same design. At sunrise on Mid- 
 summer morning the sun's rays touch the altar stone 
 there. But the Druids of this island found instru- 
 
346 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 ments ready made for them in their own mountains ; 
 and, unless my judgment deceives me, we are in the 
 ancient lecture hall, where wise men conveyed by 
 mouth the traditional lore of the stars which their 
 fathers had brought with them, and illustrated their 
 teaching directly from the objects themselves. Likely 
 enough, in baser ages, the place may have been turned 
 to such profane uses as your friend Goring there 
 suggested. We have seen churches used in the same 
 manner. But observe yonder mountain's peak in the 
 south ! It is exactly on the meridian over the stone 
 on the wall. Every star to the south of us passes 
 over that peak at its highest point of ascension in its 
 diurnal revolution, and the changes of the star's 
 position can be measured against it in different parts 
 of the year. Then see that low hollow in the north- 
 east. The sun rose there this morning. A week 
 hence it will be behind the hill, and will be seen there 
 no more for another year. And again, look at that 
 group of mountains in the west. On fine nights you 
 would see Venus receding and then advancing among 
 the peaks, and no better instrument could be made to 
 explain the planetary movements. Instruction in a 
 lecture room with designs and figures only touches 
 the mind frOm outside, and does not touch the imagi- 
 nation at all. Bring the pupil into these solitudes, 
 show him the objects themselves as they travel on in 
 their celestial courses, and instead of barren mathe- 
 matics the entire soul receives a lesson of awe and 
 adoration. His nature expands, as he comprehends 
 the magnificence of the glorious system, of which, 
 atom though he be, he is himself a living part ! " 
 
 " Brilliant ! " said Fitzherbert, " if your speculations 
 had only a few facts in the middle of them. So far 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 347 
 
 as I can see you have only a couple of stones which 
 happen to stand north and south. But supposing 
 those old Druid ruffians did really construct this 
 place, if all tales are true they taught other lessons 
 besides star-gazing. If the spot where we stand 
 could speak, it could, perhaps, tell us that it had seen 
 in the middle of it one of those great wicker piles 
 with miserable creatures bound in the middle of it, 
 some old arch-priest, in a white dress, bringing a 
 torch and setting a light to it, and kings and chiefs 
 and other charming ancestors of ours standing round 
 the wails and looking on and listening to the shrieks. 
 After all, it is not unlike the Ouemadero at Seville. 
 But if the Druids put all those fine ideas you speak of 
 into the people, how came they to be such a set of 
 savages as their own bards say they were ? " 
 
 " They might have been worse," said Vavasour. 
 " For that matter they are savage enough still ; and 
 our Bishops have improved them no more than the 
 Druids. However it be, I have given you a theory about 
 the place. But I quite admit that Goring's is a simpler 
 one, and if you don't like mine you may take his. 
 Antiquaries are fine architects of castles in the air ; 
 and, as to me, I am only mad Nor-Nor-West, like 
 Hamlet. I have discoursed after the fashion of my 
 brother enthusiasts, and vrith as much reason as a 
 good many of them. We will stop at the stone again 
 as we go back, and I will finish my parable. Mean- 
 while our host and his lady call us to luncheon yonder 
 in the shade." 
 
 The afternoon was hot. A pleasant patch of grass 
 had been found by the side of the stream under the 
 shelter of a rock, and once established there the party 
 was in no haste to move. These luncheons amidst 
 
348 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 moors and mountains are among the bright incidents 
 of our lives. Goring duly hoped that his distinguished 
 guest had found something to interest him. Fitz- 
 herbert gravely repeated the astronomical theory ; 
 which they were permitted to laugh at, Vavasour 
 laughing as loud as either of them. With much that 
 was said and written by the learned about Celtic 
 antiquities he said that he agreed, and had himself 
 contributed speculations of his own in the same 
 direction ; but when men became enthusiastic they 
 drew large inferences fromi small foundations, and 
 had talked wonderful nonsense about the curiosities 
 in this valley. He complimented Goring on his own 
 interpretation, which threw useful light on compara- 
 tively recent times, wished he could have him always 
 by his side when he went on similar expeditions, to 
 cool his imagination ; and admitted that there was 
 nothing on the peninsula so interesting as Goring's 
 Protestant colonists. He was comforted, if he needed 
 comfort, by one genuine relic, within sight, on the hill- 
 side, a rude circle of thirteen upright stones, a sort of 
 miniature Stonehenge. This was certainly not a 
 cattle pound, and imagination might be as busy as it 
 pleased. 
 
 /. s they moved homewards they passed the flat 
 stone again with the mysterious hieroglyphics. " I 
 will not dogmatize," Vavasour said, " for Fitzherbert 
 thereto make jokes at my expense, but I will give you 
 
 what Dr. S would say about it if he was lecturing 
 
 at the Academy. He would assume himself to 
 
 have proved that the fort was an observatory. Coming 
 to this stone he would say it was a record of the 
 observations taken below, a sort of map of the 
 heavenly bodies drawn on .stone, because they had 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 349 
 
 nothing else to draw upon. The large ring in 
 the centre represented the earth, the other rings — 
 seven in number — represented the sun, moon, and the 
 five planets, the distances of which from the centre 
 corresponded sufficiently well with the observations of 
 the Greek Philosophers. At the outside was Saturn, 
 next on another part of the plane was Jupiter, and so 
 on to the nearest, the moon. But now," he would 
 say, " I have to draw your attention to what is really 
 curious. The person who drew these figures was 
 acquainted with the theory of Epicycles. Each planet, 
 you see, is not a simple solid body. It is a ring. The 
 planet itself is marked as a black spot on the ring, and 
 we have a picture of the movements which the theory 
 of Epicycles was to explain. The rings were carried 
 round in the regular circuit, taking the planets with 
 them. But each ring had a rotation of its own, or 
 each planet described a small circle of its own round 
 the centre of it, and thus the great puzzle was ex- 
 plained, that these bodies move generally in one 
 direction, but are occasionally seen to retrograde. 
 Here you perceive are the rings, and here are the 
 planetary bodies themselves. It is hardly possible to be 
 mistaken — especially when we have a skilful engraver 
 to point the figures as they ought to be pointed. 
 The result, if interesting in one sense, is disappointing 
 in another, for, \{ I am correct in what I tell you, the 
 stone cannot be older than the time of Hipparchus ; 
 for the hypothesis of Epicycles was his. I had hoped 
 to find that the inscriptions were of deeper antiquity ; 
 but, at any rate, it shows how careful the Druids were 
 to keep on a level with the latest discoveries." 
 
 " We need not ask you who your Dr. S may 
 
 be," said Fitzherbert. " I suppose that for my sins I 
 
350 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 have sate under him myself. Pardon me for saying 
 that your discourse upon this stone is an illustration 
 of what all this glorification of Irish antiquities really 
 comes to. You bring with you what you think you 
 find ; you have a few hieroglyphics which you can't 
 read, and you build on them whatever you please." 
 
 Vavasour, alive as he was to the absurdities of many 
 of his friends, and even of himself in his enthusiastic 
 moments, would not leave his favourite pursuit 
 undefended. There was proof, he said, in the 
 language, in the old Poetr}^, in the Legends of the 
 Saints, in many of the less disputable monuments, 
 that the Celtic Irish had once been an interesting 
 people, full of energy, intellect, and high spirit. If 
 they were to be raised again to a higher level, it 
 could only be done by reminding them of the quali- 
 ties of their forefathers, and waking up again the 
 ancient genius of their race. 
 
 " And for my part, Vavasour," said Fitzherbert, 
 " I think you cannot possibly find a worse employ- 
 ment for your talents. What the Tuatha de Danans 
 may have been, I cannot sa}' ; but so far as accurate 
 knowledge goes, the Irish race have always been noisy, 
 useless, and ineffectual. They draw their picture in 
 their own annals. They have produced nothing, 
 they have done nothing, which it is possible to 
 admire. What they are they ha\-e ah\'ays been, and 
 the onh' hope for them is that their ridiculous Irish 
 nationality should be buried and forgotten. It was 
 pretty well stamped out at Aughrim. For some 
 strange reason it has recently been nursed into life 
 again, and likely enough we shall find that we have 
 been hatching a cockatrice. But this is a work, 
 pardon me, which ne:ds no help from such as you, 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 351 
 
 and your idea of raising their character by feeding- 
 
 their vanity is more worthy of Dr. S than of 
 
 General Vavasour." 
 
 The General bore Fitzherbert's reflections upon him 
 more amicably than might have been expected. He 
 was not in a polemical mood. Perhaps the sight of 
 Goring, and of the actual work which he had suc- 
 ceeded in getting done, had shewn him that there 
 were other ways of fastening the hold of England 
 on the troublesome Island besides flattering Irish 
 national sentiment. 
 
 They rowed home together in the summer twilight ; 
 and so closed the last day of unclouded enjoyment 
 which the family at Dunboy were to know. 
 
 The next morning the General departed. His 
 report went home to the Horse Guards, and thence to 
 the Admiralty. It was so emphatic in its language, 
 it spoke so warmly of Colonel Goring's deservings, 
 and so seriously of the danger of leaving so exposed a 
 part of the coast without better protection, that it was 
 not immediately thrown aside. It was referred to 
 Dublin Castle, and thence back again to London. 
 But no conclusion was arrived at, and in a {(t\Y months 
 the defences of Bantry Bay were forgotten in the 
 larger anxieties of the war. 
 
 About the same time that Goring's hopes on this 
 side had died away, he was informed of the final 
 decision which had been arrived at about his chapel 
 and school. It had been ruled that the Protestant 
 colony at Dunboy did not fall within the limits con- 
 templated by the Toleration Act. Power had been 
 reserved, when that Act was passed, to exclude 
 from the benefit of it all bodies professing opinions 
 dangerous to the established constitution. And the 
 
352 THE TWO CHIEFS, OF DUNBOY. 
 
 majority of the congregation at Dunboy were Inde- 
 pendents, whose views were identical with those 
 which in the preceeding century had produced revolu- 
 tion and anarchy. The irregularities of their conduct 
 justified the worst construction of their character. 
 They had opened their chapel before registration had 
 been obtained from the proper authorities, and 
 had persevered in spite of the admonition of the 
 Diocesan. They had established a school in direct* 
 defiance of the law, and had prevented the clergyman 
 of the nearest church from exercising control over it. 
 It had been ascertained also, that the persons who 
 were acting in this disorderly manner, had provided 
 themselves with arms, and had been trained and 
 drilled in the use of them, to the danger of the peace 
 of the Realm. The Council of State had come to 
 the conclusion that to grant formal toleration to a 
 community of such a character would lead to the 
 establishment of others of a similar kind. The 
 growth of societies of Protestants in the Southern 
 Provinces of Ireland could not fail to create irritation 
 among the Catholic inhabitants, and disturb the im- 
 proved feeling between the two races which the 
 conciliatory policy of the British Government was 
 tending to produce. P'or these reasons it was the 
 unanimous opinion of the Judges that the registration 
 could not be conceded. And the Council of State 
 entertained no doubt that an officer of so high a 
 character and reputation as Colonel Goring, would 
 comply at once with a resolution thus conveyed to 
 him in a friendly manner, and would render un- 
 necessary any further proceedings. 
 
 It was over. Colonel Goring had been too san- 
 guine, under the influence of powerful religious 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 353 
 
 impressions, and had been led by the experiences of 
 Ulster, to believe that the best security for the peace 
 and welfare of Ireland, was the establishment of Pro- 
 testant settlements on Cromwell's principles. He had 
 taken the opportunity of his inheritance of the estate 
 at Dunboy to act upon his convictions. He was so 
 certain that he would be doing good service both to 
 his country and to his Master in Heaven, that the 
 quarter in which difficulties might arise, had never so 
 much as occurred to him. He had selected serious 
 and earnest men to share his enterprise, because he 
 knew that he could rely on their courage and 
 stability. And they had been too good, too com- 
 pletely true to their faith, and were not malleable into 
 the shape which the habits of the country and the 
 policy of the Government required. Their own elders 
 had been right. Plainly it was not the will of God 
 that such plants should thrive on Irish soil. And 
 Goring no longer attempted to oppose those who 
 represented to him that the voice of God was not 
 to be mistaken, and that they must join their brethren 
 in New England. 
 
 It was plain to him that the Colony must abandon 
 its militant character. He had not himself formally 
 left the Established Church. Among his tenants 
 and workmen there was a mild and gentle minority, 
 who were willing to remain with him on quiet terms. 
 The Church at Glengariff would serve for him and 
 for them. The rest he knew that it would be useless 
 to try to persuade, and it would be equally undesir- 
 able to push any further his quarrel with the Govern- 
 ment. Out of the hundred families whom he had 
 introduced upon the estate, sixty left him in the fall 
 of the year, and took their passage at Cork for Rhode 
 
554 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 Island. He offered to pay their expenses, but they 
 had thriven in his employment. They had saved 
 money, and would not allow him to take the burden 
 u-pon himself. All their property which they could 
 not sell or remove, they left as a free gift among their 
 comrades who stayed behind. But the fighting strength 
 of the community was departed. Those whose faith 
 or whose fanaticism led them to believe themselves 
 soldiers of the Almighty, and in that dread enlist- 
 ment feared nothing but to be found unworthy of 
 their calling, they were gone. And as in the clearing 
 of a forest, when the great trees are felled, the wind 
 rushes in and chills and blights the undergrowth, so 
 after their brethren had passed away, the remaining 
 members of the Dunboy settlement went about their 
 business with languid hearts, no longer hoping. 
 They took their quiet way on Sundays to Glengariff 
 Church, but there was no longer any song of battle 
 in them for the cause of the Lord. And they too 
 although for shame they could not yet propose to 
 forsake the Colonel, yet felt themselves to be strangers 
 in an enemy's land, and began to cast their eyes 
 backwards across St. Georcre's Channel to their old 
 
 villages on the Cornish coast. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 The story now returns to Morty Sullivan, who was 
 left repairing damages at Ballinskelligs, after his escape 
 through Dursey Sound. A single tide sufficed fcr 
 him to nail plates over the shot-holes in his hull and 
 •splice his damaged rigging. He made his way without 
 further adventure to Nantes, where the Doutelle was 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 355 
 
 overhauled and refitted. After the display which he 
 had made of daring and seamanship, there were no 
 more murmurs among the crew ; the old hands were 
 eager to sail with him, and he had his choice among 
 the most desperate villains in the mouth of the Loire. 
 The loss of the arms at Glengariff was more than 
 compensated, in the opinion of the French Govern- 
 ment, by his defeat of an English frigate, and as there 
 were not many officers in the French service who 
 could boast of such an exploit, they were the more 
 ready to trust him with a larger adventure. He had 
 a letter of marque which would open the French 
 harbours to him in all parts of the world ; and in less 
 than a month he was again at sea, and had captured 
 a large vessel in the mouth of the Channel, which was 
 sailing without a convoy, as the Speaker had informed 
 Goring at Dublin. Thence he bore away to the 
 West Indies, where his exploits for the next fourteen 
 months made him as famous as Morgan or Kidd. He 
 took a hundred prizes. He cut out a richly loaded 
 barque from the roads at Bridgetown, under the guns 
 of the fort. He raised a mutiny among the Irish at 
 Montserrat, who sacked a dozen planters' houses, and 
 set the town on fire. Most of them were killed. The 
 survivors he carried away to Hayti. He laughed at 
 the West Indian Squadron. He ran away from the 
 frigates. He fought and beat the brigs and brigan- 
 tines of his own size. His captives he sold at Mar- 
 tinique, or at New Orleans, or at any French port 
 which he happened to be near. His head-quarters 
 were among the Lagoons at Espafiola, where, if he 
 was hard pressed, an inaccessible retreat was always 
 open to him. Not Captain Daniel himself ever 
 created such havoc, or excited such alarm in the 
 
 23* 
 
.356 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 English possessions in those seas, as Morty Sullivan, 
 in a single year. His men were glutted with plunder. 
 To himself, so easy his conquests, the career was tame 
 in its monotony of success. But he was making a 
 name, and establishing a claim for advancement in 
 some more honourable service. He was picking up 
 wealth, too, spoiling the English enemy, and reveng- 
 ing the wrongs of his countrymen. Had he tempted 
 fortune much longer, the end of him would probably 
 have been like the end of most of his predecessors on 
 the same road. The English looked upon him^ as a 
 rebel and an outlaw. They would have taken him at 
 last, and he and his followers would have swung on 
 Gallows Point at Port Royal. But the plot was thicken- 
 ing at home. The French were supposed to be 
 meditating an in\-asion of England. They were 
 really purposing the long-threatened attempt on 
 Ireland, which had been talked of so long that 
 nobody believed in it. Representations had been 
 made to them from all parts of the country that the 
 people were ready to rise. The Presbyterians in the 
 North were supposed to be disgusted at the restric- 
 tions to which they were still subject. Emissaries 
 from the Southern counties assured the P'rench Court 
 that the Catholics would welcome a delivering army 
 with unanimous enthusiasm. Ireland being the side 
 where P^ngland was most vulnerable, a squadron 
 was fitting out at Brest to make the experiment ; but 
 it was still undecided in what part of the Island the 
 attempt should be made. It was necessary to be 
 careful. Irish promises did not always becon:e per- 
 formance. Landings in Ireland by sympathizing 
 Catholic foreigners had been many times tried, but 
 had never yet prospered. They had arrived on the un- 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUXBOY. 357 
 
 derstanding that they were to be joined by a hundred 
 thousand patriots in arms. But the patriots had 
 proved phantoms, and the Enghsh soldiers had been 
 reahties ; and the result had been disaster. This time 
 Louis and his advisers meant to be sure of their 
 ground. It was from the South that they had received 
 the strongest assurances ; but the}' required the 
 opinion of some one on whom they could entirely 
 rely, as to what they might really expect, and for this 
 purpose they cast their eyes on Morty Sullivan. He 
 was Irish of the Irish, but his practical training had 
 corrected the faults of his blood. He understood his 
 own people, and they would be unable to take him in 
 with unmeaning professions. No one understood 
 better the connection between means and ends, or was 
 less likely to confound loud talk with silent purpose. 
 Morty could be trusted better than any living man 
 to ascertain whether there was a real basis for the 
 enthusiastic accounts of the popular disposition and 
 forwardness which they had received from their Irish 
 emissaries. 
 
 Thus some fourteen months after he had started 
 on his raid among the West Indies, Morty Sullivan 
 received a communication from the Governor at Port- 
 au-Prince that his pi^sence was required at home. 
 The French Cabinet had a service of importance for 
 him, and he was to repair to Nantes without loss of 
 time. His ship's company and himself were equally 
 willing to be gone. The men wished to enjoy the 
 fruits of their adventures in Europe. Morty had 
 always loo' ed forward to changing his privateering 
 for employment better suited for a gentleman. He 
 took leave of his cruising ground, going off with flying 
 colours, and laughing at the English cruisers which 
 
358 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 caught sight of him and chased him. He made a 
 swift passage across the Atlantic, and arrived at 
 Nantes late in the same winter in which Colonel 
 Goring's colony had begun to dissolve. At Nantes 
 he found dispatches waiting for him. He was 
 ordered to repair instantly to the coast of Kerry. 
 The Doiitelle and her crew \^'ere to be left behind. 
 The vessel was known and would be recognised, and 
 his presence in Ireland was to be kept an absolute 
 secret, except from a few persons who could be 
 trusted. Blake had fitted up for him one of the 
 fast luggers, which were used in the ordinary fishing 
 trade, and would pass unobserved by any English 
 ships of war which might be on the look-out at 
 the Land's End. His commission was to ascertain 
 the actual state of readiness of the Southern Province, 
 and what the French might count on in case they 
 landed. Magnificent promises were made to him 
 should he be able to accomplish anything of value, 
 and at all events he \\'as told that his services in the 
 West Indies would not go unrewarded. 
 
 It was not without misgivings that IMcrty accepted 
 the commision, for he saw that considerable expecta- 
 tions had been formed of the state of things in 
 Ireland. The patriotic leaders had as usual so mag- 
 nified their resources, that Louis had asked in wonder 
 why, if they were so strong and so united, they had 
 not driven the English into the sea. Arms they 
 had, for they had been amply supplied. What could 
 they be waiting for ? The answer had been that they 
 could not rise till they had French troops actually 
 present among them, and Morty had heard the same 
 story too often to put much faith in it. The lugger, 
 however, was ready in the river. The wind \\'as 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY 
 
 159 
 
 steady from the East. The weather promised well 
 and Blake hurried him on board. Connell only went 
 with him of his old comrades. They sailed under 
 false names, and the skipper only knew them as 
 agents whom the firm was employing upon secret 
 business. 
 
 And now the reader must again conceive himself 
 in the old country, at a spot to which he has not 
 been hitherto introduced, though it was but a few 
 miles distant from the residence of Colonel Gorincr. 
 
 o 
 
 Bally Quoilach Bay is an estuary of the Kenmare 
 River, lying between Ardgroom and Dursey Island, 
 and immediately opposite to Darrynane. The 
 entrance is covered by a long, flat-topped rocky 
 Island, ground smooth by glaciers, which forms a 
 natural breakwater, while inside there are hidden 
 shoals and reefs, through which there is but one 
 passage, that twists and winds like a snake. Thus 
 the approach is very dangerous. Large ships cannot 
 venture in at all, nor vessel of any kind without a local 
 pilot. Inside, however, when these perils are all 
 passed, there is, in one corner of the ba}^, a quiet basin, 
 into which even the swell of the open ocean fails to 
 penetrate, with a bottom of sand which slopes up 
 gradually to a beach of powdered sea shell. At a 
 little distance is the mouth of a small river, like that 
 where Ulysses landed in Phoeacia, and here too 
 Kings' daughters and their maidens may have washed, 
 their house linen and spread it to dry on the shingle, 
 for the spot was the favourite haunt of sea rovers. 
 Who these rovers were, whether Danes, Saxons, or 
 native Irish, none can say ; but, as in Kilmakilloge, 
 there is clear proof that a population of this adven- 
 turous kind once made their homes there, and fitter 
 
36o THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 sheltering place could have been found nowhere on 
 the Irish shores. 
 
 Pillar stones mark where the bones of their chiefs 
 turned to dust. There are large Raths, with their 
 labyrinths of subterranean cellars. General Vava- 
 sour might have discovered traces of the Druids 
 there. The most sober enquirer would be satisfied 
 that the place had once been thickh' occupied, and 
 by inhabitants who had something else to live upon 
 beyond what the soil could yield them. 
 
 For the valley which opens on the Bay, is but one 
 of the series of hollows through ^^•hich the rain which 
 falls on the mountain that divides Cork from Kerry, 
 finds its way into the sea. It is about four miles 
 deep, measured from the water-shed to the mouth 
 of the stream which drains it. It is crossed by large 
 moraines, and the ground is exceptionally good. But 
 there is not enough of fertile land to have supported 
 more than a scanty population before the days of the 
 potato. A horse track from Ardgroom passed 
 through it over the hills to Dunboy. But the track 
 was seldom used, for there was little intercouse 
 between the two districts. Bally Ouoilach, like Der- 
 reen, still remained, either by lease or otherwise, 
 in possession of th? O'Sullivans, and they clung to 
 it with passionate tenacit}\ Morty Sullivan's father 
 had resided there, and had been in trouble more 
 than once with the authorities for skeltering Rap- 
 parees and Tories. He had sent his son abroad 
 to find employment better suited to his rank and 
 birth ; but he had continued to live there himself 
 in friendly intercour e with his kinsman at Derreen. 
 Out of the Rapparees, as the Revolution Settlement 
 relapsed into Anarchy, had developed the smugglers, 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 361 
 
 and for many years an active contraband business was 
 carried on in the Bay. On the old man's death, 
 Morty ought to have succeeded, but either he did 
 not press his right, or it was forfeited by his outlawry. 
 The estate had fallen to the widowed sister whom 
 Goring had removed from Dursey Island, and she 
 with her son, a boy of seven years old, was now 
 residing there, the chief or chieftainess of the 
 relics of a clan as wild as the wildest of the Scotch 
 Highlanders, and equally ready to do her bidding, 
 lawful or unlawful. These fierce Caterans would have 
 long since swept Goring out of Dunboy, and burnt 
 his roof over his head, but for the wholesome fear in 
 which they stood of his Protestant guard. 
 
 The lady's dwelling-house deserves particular de- 
 scription. The river, in ordinary weather, was a mere 
 brook, trickling innocently among the stones. In 
 heavy rains it became a furious torrent. Kerry is a 
 damp county, and the floods had long since made it 
 necessary to throw a bridge across the stream, for the 
 use of the cattle. A hundred yards below the bridge, 
 protected by a rock at the back, and sheltered by a 
 wall, stood the ancient baronial mansion of Eyris. In 
 front was a rude garden, with the river beyond. The 
 sea was a quarter-of-a-mile off 
 
 The building itself, and the structure of it, told 
 the tale of its history. It was quadrangular, with 
 a court in the middle. The living rooms were on 
 the ground floor, with garrets in the roof, and the 
 roof itself was thatched. The walls were of massive 
 stone, and the timbers, which were of solid oak, had 
 once formed the ribs and beams of a large ship. A 
 dozen cabins now occupy the old site. The rafters of 
 the O'Sullivan mansion can still be seen in them 
 
362 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 charred with fire, and the auger-holes which were 
 bored in them when the ship was built. The dimen- 
 sions of the house were evidently considerable. It 
 w-as not only the home of the chief, but the home of 
 the crews of his vessels. It was a refuge for hunted 
 outlaws, and was constructed to resist the attacks of a 
 sheriff's party, should any sheriff be rash enough to 
 pay a visit there. It was a magazine of ships' stores, 
 and a warehouse of cargoes. There was a black- 
 smith's shop and a carpenter's shop. There were 
 outbuildings filled with spare sails, coils of rope, spars, 
 copper and iron bolts, anchors, chains, and all the 
 necessaries for the repairing or fitting out vessels. The 
 hall, or family sitting-room, was itself an arsenal, being 
 hung round w^th muskets, blunderbusses, pistols, sw^ords 
 and pikes. It was curiously furnished, out of the spoils of 
 ships' cabins ; with sea chests, carved bureaus, couches, 
 tables of oak or mahogany, each one of w^hich had, 
 probably, a story connected with the acquisition of it. 
 On the walls and before the windows were curtains of 
 brocade, soiled and faded, which once had been laced 
 with eold and silver thread. In this room, and in the 
 sleeping rooms which opened out of it, might be 
 traced a woman's hand. The remainder of the habi- 
 tation was made over to the human watch-dogs, who 
 littered about in their own fashion. 
 
 Here, since the early part of the century, the elder 
 Morty had maintained his patriarchal rule, owning no 
 jurisdiction save his own will and strength of hand. 
 He had no neighbours to interfere with him. He 
 escaped molestation from the county authorities, 
 because no one was sufficiently interested in calling 
 him to account. He filled the cellars of the county 
 gentlemen ; he supplied the ladies' wardrobes with 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 363 
 
 silks and laces. In extremities, he used the wealth 
 which he had acquired in making friends at the 
 Four Courts and in Dublin Castle. The Morty of 
 our story, and his sister, had been born in this house, 
 In it they had spent their childhood and youth, with 
 the exception of occasional visits to their Derreen 
 kinsman, who, being more exposed to the world's eye, 
 kept himself a little further within the lines of civili- 
 zation. As he grew to manhood, Morty's ambition 
 rose above so squalid and lawless a life ; and, having 
 no opening at home, he carried his sword into the 
 service of the Catholic powers abroad. His sister, 
 Ellen, married a Mahony, a son of the famous Donnell, 
 who ruled Kerry for a generation, with the help of his 
 four thousand " fairies." Her husband dying soon 
 after — being drowned in some wild adventure — and 
 Morty being far away, Ellen and her child had gone 
 to live with her mother, at the old castle at Dursey. 
 from which Goring, in consequence of their connection 
 with the smugglers, found it necessary to remove 
 them. The mother had died, it was alleged, in con- 
 sequence of exposure, at the time when they were 
 expelled ; and Ellen Mahony had gone back to her 
 own house at Eyris, burning with resentment at the 
 Saxon intruder at Dunboy, who had added a fresh 
 injury to the crime of being the possessor of her 
 ancestral home. There she had remained for several 
 years, in a wild element for a well-born lady. The 
 boy had been bred among rough nurses. The old busi- 
 ness had gone on without interruption. Goring had 
 hesitated to provoke afresh so dangerous a neighbour. 
 The Government would not help him, or listen to his 
 remonstrances, and he had work enough for his ov/n 
 people on the other side of the mountains. 
 
364 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 Morty's reappearance in the Doiitclle, the fight at 
 Derreen, and his defeat at Glengariff, were so many 
 fresh scores in the accounts which were run up against 
 Goring in the passionate lady's mind. Morty had 
 gone again. Goring had left the revenue service. 
 Between the families at Eyris and Dunboy there was 
 no communication, and Goring, occupied with other 
 anxieties, had forgotten his neighbour's existence. But 
 Ellen Mahony brooded incessantly on her own and her 
 brother's wrongs, and her one thought, sleeping and 
 waking, was of revenge. She had heard of Morty's 
 West Indian fame, and she was well pleased that he 
 should be drawing the blood of the hereditary enemy. 
 But they had an enemy of their own nearer home, 
 and her daily prayer was for the French to come, or 
 for the South of Ireland to rise in rebellion, when 
 the heretic strangers could be wiped out as Phelim 
 O'Neil had wiped them out of the North in 1641. 
 
 So matters stood with Morty's widowed sister, when 
 one winter's day a French lugger swept into the Bay. 
 Curiosity to learn who might be the unlooked-for 
 visitors, brought her down to the shore, where she found 
 her brother and his friend. She rushed to the con- 
 clusion that this sudden arrival must be connected 
 with the subject of which her own mind was so full. 
 She found Morty indifferent and preoccupied, and as 
 if unconscious of the existence of Dunboy and its 
 English owners. His manner even to her was cold and 
 absorbed. He was full of the mission with which he 
 had been entrusted, and could think of nothing else. 
 For a fortnight the emissaries of the secret societies 
 of Munster were coming and going ; but it proved as 
 he expected, and he could find nothing satisfactory to 
 go upon. There was the confident assertion that the 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 365 
 
 people were ready to rise, and would rise when the 
 French fleet came in sight. He was reproached for 
 want of patriotism when he insisted on answers to in- 
 convenient questions. Were the people armed ? Were 
 they drilled, and did they know their officers ? At 
 what points could they be collected, and in what 
 numbers ? Had they guns, or had they only pikes ? 
 Had the muskets and ammunition which had been 
 sent from France been distributed, or were they 
 still in hand, and where ? Should a French force be 
 thrown on shore, how many men could be counted on 
 as ready to join at short notice ? How were the 
 French to be fed if they came, and what number of 
 carts and carriages could be collected for the transport 
 service ? 
 
 To all such questions the answers were general and 
 vague. Was not all Ireland ready to welcome their 
 deliverers from English tyranny ? Wouldn't they 
 burn the houses of the ^^entry over their heads, and 
 set the land in a flame from end to end ? The Dublin 
 boys would take the Castle. The Irish in the English 
 regiments would shoot their officers and bring over half 
 the army. All, in fact, was just as it was when Morty 
 himself, as a lad, had attended the Whiteboy meetings. 
 There was the same enthusiasm of the tongue, the 
 same absence of solid preparation. Nothing had 
 changed, nothing had become firmer or more co- 
 herent. Most capable, most secret, and most prac- 
 tical as his countrymen had always been when a 
 tithe proctor was to be carded or an informer to be 
 executed, they were as little fit as ever for any open 
 action in the field. Nay, he was convinced that they 
 were no m.ore trustworthy than they had been, and if 
 any concerted scheme was formed for a rising, sup- 
 
366 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 ported by a French force, it would be betrayed to the 
 Government. In spite of the precautions taken to 
 keep his own presence a secret, he had warning that 
 it was known to more persons than he was aware of, 
 and that he was himself in danger. His sorrowful 
 conviction was that any expedition which was sent to 
 help them would meet the same fate which had in- 
 variably attended the Catholic sympathizers that had 
 been tempted over by these idle promises. They 
 would expect a population in arms to receive them ; 
 they would find themselves left absolutely alone, with 
 those whom they came to help ready to turn upon 
 them at their first reverse. 
 
 Weary and disgusted, he had despatched Connell 
 across the water to meet a party of delegates at 
 Derrynane who were to bring final information. 
 Should it be as unsatisfactory as he anticipated, his 
 intention was to return at once to France and warn 
 the Government that they must put no trust in Irish 
 boastings, and that the battle with England must be 
 fought out elsewhere. Waiting anxiously forConnell's 
 return, he was strolling on a soft winter's morning 
 with his sister along the sandy shore. The tide was 
 out. The lugger was high and dry on the beach. 
 The men had brought her in at high water to clear 
 her bottom of shell and weed. She would float off 
 again with the flood, and they were busy scouring her 
 with brooms and scrubbing brushes. The little boy, 
 the heir of the valley and the chieftainship of the 
 O'Sullivans, was watching the men at their work with 
 childish interest, or chasing the crabs as they ran 
 along the wet sand. For how many ages had the 
 bay and the rocks, and the mountains, looked 
 exactly the same as they were looking then ? How 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 367 
 
 many generations had played their part on the 
 same stage, eager and impassioned as if it had been 
 created only for them ! the half-naked fishermen of 
 forgotten centuries who had earned a scanty living 
 there ; the monks from the Skelligs who had come in 
 on highdays in their coracles to say mass for them, 
 baptize the children or bury the dead ; the Celtic 
 chief, with saffron shirt and battle axe, driven from 
 his richer lands by Norman or Saxon invaders, and 
 keeping hold in this remote spot on his ragged inde- 
 pendence ; the Scandinavian pirates, the overflow of 
 the Northern Fiords, looking for new soil where they 
 could take root. These had all played their brief parts 
 there and were gone, and as many more would follow 
 in the cycles of the years that were to come, yet the 
 scene itself was unchanged and would not change. 
 The same soil had fed those that were departed, and 
 would feed the others that were to be. The same land- 
 scape had affected their imaginations with its beauty 
 or awed them with its splendours ; and each alike 
 had yielded to the same delusion that the valley was 
 theirs and was inseparably connected with themselves 
 and their fortunes. Morty's career had been a stormy 
 one, and his actions such as weaker men might like 
 ill to think of. He was an outlaw, and in his enemies' 
 judgment a pirate and a freebooter, but he had done 
 nothing which weighed on his conscience as a crime. 
 He had been fighting all his life ; but fighting chiefly 
 against the oppressors of his country and his race. 
 His mind was free to wander from his own concerns 
 into the speculations which the scene suggested. He 
 too had played as a child on the same shore where 
 his nephew was playing now. He had kindled with 
 his young enthusiasm at the tales which were told him 
 
368 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 of his forefathers. He had gone out into the world, 
 and had battled and struggled in the holy cause, yet 
 the cause was not advanced, and it was all nothing. 
 He was about to leave the old place, probably for 
 ever. Yet there it was, tranquil, calm, indifferent 
 whether he came or went. What was he ? What v/as 
 any one ? To what purpose the ineffectual strivings 
 of short-lived humanity? Man's life was but the shadow 
 of a dream, and his work was but the heaping of sand 
 which the next tide would level flat again. 
 
 So Morty mused as he strolled to and fro, glancing 
 occasionally seawards for signs of Connell's return. 
 His sister walked at his side, gnawing her lip im- 
 patiently. In appearance she was very like her 
 brother. She had the same hard, clean-cut face, the 
 same sinewy figure, the same falcon eyes, dark, fierce, 
 and fearless. But Morty's larger experience of life 
 had taught him to govern his passions, and had given 
 him wider views. She, shut up on a promontory of 
 Kerry, occupied alternately with her personal injuries 
 and with the wrongs of her country, in whose cause 
 her family had been robbed of their inheritance, could 
 think of nothing beyond what was immediately close to 
 her. Ireland to her was all in all. To pray and plot for 
 revenge was her only interest. If the day of Ireland's 
 liberation was never to dawn, she would have it remain 
 for ever a poisoned thorn in the oppressor's side. 
 
 Morty muttered something which did not please 
 her. Flushing up, and grinding the sand under her 
 boot, she said : 
 
 " It comes to this, then ! Afcer all you have done, 
 and all you have suffered, you mean to abandon the 
 cause, to leave the land you were born in, to leave 
 your clansfolk, each man of whom would lose the 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 3^9 
 
 last drop of his blood for you, to leave the last of 
 your father s children, for you need not think that I 
 and that child will go with you ! I will stay here till 
 I lie down at my murdered mother's side, and the 
 accursed Saxon that killed her will reign over all the 
 land. Shame on you, Morty, and sorrow to the day 
 that I heard the like from the lips of you." 
 
 " What would you have ? " he said bitterly. " I 
 tell you the people cannot fight. The heart is not in 
 them. They will bluster and boast, but when the 
 time comes for action, it will only be which shall 
 be first to betray the other, and as to me, would you 
 wish to see me, who might be holding high command 
 under the Emperor — to see me one of Blake's 
 skippers hanging about the coast, trading in wool- 
 packs and selling brandy to the Squires, in the hope 
 that a da\- may comx-e when the craven curs here may 
 pluck up their hearts. I will not do it ! Come here, 
 Dermot," he called to the boy who was struggling in 
 the mud with a sand-eel. " Can you hit a mark yet ? 
 Let me see what you can do with this," and he drew 
 a pistol from his belt. 
 
 The child's eyes glittered as he looked with delight 
 at the long, chased Spanish barrel. " I shot a gull 
 once, Uncle," he answered. " Paddy O'Brien held the 
 gun, but I aimed it, and I pulled the trigger, and the 
 bird tumbled off the rock into the water, and Paddy 
 swam in and brought it out in his mouth like a dog, 
 and he said the best shot in the Barony could not 
 have done it better." 
 
 " Well then," said Morty. " now you shall hold the 
 pistol yourself. You see that white mark on the 
 stone yonder. Try if you can put a ball into the 
 middle of it." 
 
 24 
 
370 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 In both hands, for the p'stol was too heavy for him 
 to hold in one, the child grasped the butt, a little 
 alarmed, but too proud to shew it. He clenched it 
 firmly, levelled and fired. Tlie pistol sprang out of 
 his hand with the recoil, the guard cutting the middle 
 finger to the bone, but he neither flinched nor cried, 
 and the ball, more by chance than skill, went true to 
 the centre of the spot. 
 
 " Well done, little fellow," said his uncle. " You 
 shall have a pistol for your own, as a birthday present, 
 and here is a King George's shilling for you." 
 
 " I'll not touch a shilling of King George's," cried 
 the boy. " Not if you never give me anything more 
 in all your life, Uncle Morty." 
 
 " Here is a young eaglet for you," Morty said. 
 " What sort of a bird will you grow into I wonder, if 
 you scream so loud when you can scarce flutter along 
 alone. You should'nt bark, Dermot, before your 
 teeth are grown. What would you like to do with 
 yourself when you come to be a man ? " 
 
 " I'll learn to shoot while I'm little. Uncle," 
 answered the boy, "and I think I will take the 
 shilling you give me. I'll set it up for a mark, and 
 practise at the face that's on it ; and when I'm big, 
 and can make sure of hitting, I'll watch behind a wall 
 and shoot the English Colonel that lives in the place 
 that ought to belong to us." 
 
 "God help the child," said Morty. "You have 
 schooled him well, Ellen, and when he grows up he 
 will be an honour to the family. So it is with us all. 
 None are braver than we, when cows' tails are to be 
 cut off, or the enemies of the country shot from a 
 hiding place. But to stand up and fight the Saxon 
 in an honourable field, as the Scots did with Bruce 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS Of DUN BOY. 37 1 
 
 and Wallace, that is beyond us. And therefore we 
 are as we are. No nation ever trusted us that they 
 did not rue the day. Ask the French, ask the 
 Spaniards. They will tell you the same story. We 
 have made the name of Irish patriot a bye- word of 
 contempt through Europe. What curse is on us, that 
 only when we have left our miserable country our 
 courage and manliness come back to us ? " 
 
 " Shame on ye Morty, once more," said his sister, 
 "to speak evil of the land of your birth. What 
 nation ever held out against oppression as we have 
 done? For six hundred years the hoof of the 
 stranger has been on our necks. He has torn our 
 lands from us. If he could, he would have torn fron 
 us our faith and our God. We have been as the Fox 
 in the Wolf's mouth. The Wolf is the stronger. 
 But the Fox's heart has not failed him, and his wit 
 has not failed him. He fights on, with such arms as 
 nature has given him, and the Wolf will be beaten in 
 the end." 
 
 " The Wolf will bite the Fox's head off one of 
 these days, if he does not look out for himself. Man- 
 kind would not be much the worse for the absence of 
 him. Constant ! Yes, we have been constant. 
 What were we when we had the Island to ourselves ? 
 If you can believe those glorious ballad singers and 
 annalists of ours, we were no better than the can- 
 nibals of the Pacific. If we were again free, we 
 should cut one another's throats in the old style, 
 God knows I have no love for the English. I would 
 put a ball through Goring's head to-morrow, and 
 desire no better day's work. But it must be in fair 
 fight, man to man ; I have no taste for shooting 
 
 from behind hedges." 
 
 24* 
 
372 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 " Aye, Morty, you are for honourable ways. And 
 to what honour are we bound, when the strong thief 
 is in our homes, and our children are turned away 
 from their own doors to starve. \ fair fight in my 
 mind is too much honour for the like of him. Take 
 him in the front, if you have the chance to meet him 
 in the front. Shoot him in the back as you would 
 .shoot a mad dog, if you have no better opportunit}', 
 and rid the earth of him any way. You are sore 
 spoilt with those foreign notions of yours, Mort}', 
 since you have been among strangers. Civilized 
 nations! Bad luck to their civility! Barring the t 
 they are good Christians, and pray to the Saints and 
 the Blessed Virgin, they are no better than the 
 Saxons for all that I can see. You say the French 
 can't trust us, and we ready to risk life and all at their 
 side if they will only help us." 
 
 " Well, well, Ellen, we will not quarrel about it, but 
 I'd be well pleased if I had never left the Emperor's 
 service. I had cut my way to reputation. I have 
 been thanked on the field for my services. By this 
 time I might ha\'e been b}- the side of Lacy and 
 O'Donnell at the head of armies, with you, sister, in 
 your proper place among the great of the earth, 
 instead of dragging out a soiled existence, doing the 
 dirty work of the Court at Versailles. I might have 
 bred that young fellow to be a brave soldier, to 
 live as a man should live, and leave a respected naire 
 behind him. What am I now ? A desperate adven- 
 turer, who, if he fails and is taken, will be hanged as 
 a felon and an outlaw. I have been the associate of 
 a set of villains who cared for nothing but plunder. 
 If I now tempt the French by false information to 
 send an expedition here, it will end as all such enter- 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 373 
 
 prises have ended before. We call ourselves Patriots, 
 and we have not the spirit to face our tyrants like 
 men. We are false to one another. We shall be 
 false to any friend that trusts us. I will have no more 
 of it. The Austrians will take me back if I ask 
 them. France, herself, has promised me employment 
 by land or sea. I will go, and forget these last years 
 as a miserable dream." 
 
 " And leave your fine Colonel," said she, " in the 
 home of your fathers, him that hunted >'ou from 
 Culloden field, and drove your mother from the 
 roof that sheltered her, and gave you your own life 
 at Derreen House — I wonder that you would take 
 the gift at such a hand — and slaughtered your boat's 
 crew at Glengariff, and brought the King's ship upon 
 you after that. I would rather that ship had sunk 
 you with her guns in Dursey Sound, or that }'OU 
 were now lying dead on the shore where you stand, 
 than that you should go away and leave that man 
 unpunished." 
 
 " Ellen," he answered, " you will drive me to madness 
 if you speak like that ! My better nature calls me 
 one way and the devil by the voice of yourself calls 
 me another. But a boat is coming round the rocks ! 
 It is Connell at last, and there are others with him ! 
 We shall hear now what is to be looked for. If, as I 
 suppose, it is all froth and foam, I shall know what 
 to do ! " 
 
374 THE Tira CHIEFS OF DUKBOY. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 The boat which Morty had seen came in swiftly over 
 the smooth water of the estuary. Four men were 
 rowing, apparently fishermen. The boat itself was of 
 the native build of the country — a light framework 
 of ash covered with cow hide, and held in shape by 
 the keel and the cross benches which formed the 
 seats of the rowers. It was frail to look at, but it was 
 buoyant, and able to encounter seas when stouter 
 vessels would have found their end. Connell was 
 steering, and two persons were sitting in the stern 
 beside him, one of whom, as they stepped on shore, 
 was seen to be old Sylvester O'Sullivan ; the other 
 was a stranger, and a note which Connell handed to 
 Morty referred him to this gentleman for an answer 
 to all enquiries which he had to make. S}'lvester, it 
 seemed, had been taken into counsel, and, affecting 
 the ease and intimacy of relationship, he seized 
 Morty's hand. 
 
 " Welcome home," he said. " Right glad are we to 
 see ye once more on your own soil, after all ye have 
 done ! Long may }'e live and reign among us ! We 
 p.re from Derrynane this morning, and this is Mr. 
 
 . But we will name no names. It is safest so. 
 
 This is one of the best-born gentlemen in the 
 province of Munster, who is honoured to make }^our 
 acquaintance." 
 
 The stranger was a tall man, with red hair and 
 whiskers, blue eyes, and broad Milesian features. 
 Morty glanced at him, and liked neither his look nor 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OE DUN BOY. 375 
 
 the mystery about him. Still less \^ as he pleased at that 
 moment to see his kinsman, whom he regarded as the 
 chief cause of his having left the highwa}-s of life for 
 the tortuous road into which he had fallen. 
 
 The stranger, who saw that Morty was out of 
 humour at som.ething, put on an easy air, and said : 
 
 " It is well pleased we are to see }'e here, sir, and 
 pleased at the cause which has brought you hom.e 
 among us. We have all heard what ye have done in 
 the West Indies with our poor people that wxre 
 working in chains there, and how ye fought the big 
 frigate off Dursey yonder, and sent her home to Cork 
 Haven slower than she came. If ye could hear how 
 the country speaks of ye, ye would be a proud man 
 this day ! " 
 
 " The frigate was well handled, sir,'' Morty 
 answered coldly, " and if we escaped it was more by 
 luck than skill ! But you have something to say to 
 
 me, Mr. ? And I will be glad to hear it, for my 
 
 time is short." 
 
 " You may call me O'Brien, sir, for want of a worse 
 name," the stranger said. " There is good blood 
 among the O'Briens, anyway, and the best of it runs 
 in my own veins. We mean you well, and we hope 
 you will mean well by us, but you are rather short in 
 your speech. Mr. Connell here brought us word from 
 ye, that ye would like to know what we are prepared 
 to do if the French ships at Brest should be seen in 
 our waters. Well, I'll tell ye ! Right welcome 
 will be the sight of them ! Not an Irish heart in the 
 Four Counties but will feel the French are the best 
 friends that are left to Ireland in all the world ! " 
 
 " I can believe that," replied Morty, " but it is not 
 what I have been sent to learn. It has been repre- 
 
376 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY 
 
 sented in Paris that if M. Thurot's squadron appears 
 off this coast and lands two or three regiments, you 
 have fifty thousand men ready to join at a day's 
 notice. Is that so ? " 
 
 " Indeed, and it is ! It is not fifty thousand nor 
 a hundred thousand. It is all Catholic Ireland that 
 will join — every mother s son of them ! " 
 
 " Every mother's son cannot be put in the 
 field to fight. The English have twelve thousand red 
 coats in the island, besides the gentry and their 
 servants, and the Protestants in the North. Can you 
 produce fifty thousand men, drilled, who, if Thurot 
 lands, can march at once to support him ? " 
 
 " We have, sir, and more ! Who knows it better 
 than King Louis, who has the Brigade with him ? 
 And didn't they beat the English at Fontenoy ? " 
 
 " You mean that Thurot is to bring the Brigade 
 with him ? " Morty said, 
 
 " Sure, and of course that is what we mean," 
 ans\\'ered the stranger. " And what else would \\^ 
 we mean ? Aren't they the flower of us all ? And 
 haven't we sent them over to learn their trade and be 
 fit for fighting when the day comes for it ? Our poor 
 people at home are just peasants, and how would 
 they be able to fight ? They can make the country 
 hot for the Protestant gentlemen, but that is all they 
 are fit for. Let the King send the Brigade over, and 
 twenty thousand Frenchmen at the back of them, and 
 then he should see what we could do ! There would 
 not be a Protestant left alive in the Island a month 
 after ! " 
 
 " I can believe that, also, Mr. O'Brien, or whatever 
 your name may be," said Morty. " But no such force 
 is likely to be sent ! They require to know, in case 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 377 
 
 M. Thurot throws a small division of French troops 
 on shore in Bantry Bay or the Kenmare River, what 
 number of men the Irish can bring into line at once 
 at immediate call ? Arms have been sent. Officers 
 have been sent. Money has been sent. What ha\'e 
 you to show ? Can you produce fifty thousand men ? 
 Can you produce five thousand men ? — or five 
 hundred ? — or one hundred ? " 
 
 " You are hard on me, Mr. O'SuUivan ! You are 
 one of ourselves, and you might know by this time 
 that we have tried that way long enough, and that we 
 find others answer better ! " 
 
 " Too well I know that," said Morty, " and I know 
 what has come of it. By no advice of mine shall 
 French soldiers set foot on this soil ! And though it 
 is my own soil, and though I would live and die for 
 it, if there was a spark of generous manhood left in 
 the people, I will not mislead those who trust me. 
 Fight the battle your own way, and with your ov/n 
 weapons. I will meddle with you no more ! " 
 
 " Sure it is joking you are, Morty," Sylvester said, 
 " or the black dog has bitten you. You talked that 
 way years past at Nantes, when Mr. Blake put the 
 work on you, and may be you had reason then, with 
 the peace and all. But now, with the war back 
 again, and the old enemy with his hands full the 
 world over, and the French on the seas and ready and 
 willing to help— Is it you, Morty, that will be hinder- 
 ing them } What hurt have the English been able to 
 do to yourself for all their power ? You slip through 
 their hands like a merrow, and for each blow the}^ 
 give you, you give them two in return. In Dublin 
 Castle they are shaking as if the fit was on them. The 
 gentry of Ireland and jjiom ^nLondon are snarling at 
 
3/8 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 each other hke cats, and they come coaxing to us 
 CathoHcs, and one or the other will be taking off the 
 Penal laws. Small thanks to them for that same. It is 
 little we care, for we will break them off our own necks. 
 The light of the brightest day that ever dawned on 
 Ireland is breaking over the hills, and w^ould you be 
 leaving us now, Morty, when If you will stay and lead 
 the rising you will be ruling again before another 
 summer in your own Castle at Dunboy, with the 
 Colonel's head on a pike over the gateway." 
 
 " So you go on," said Morty. " It is the old story 
 which we have heard a thousand times. The light 
 breaking on the hills ! The better day that is dawn- 
 ing ! I will tell you what the end will be of such a 
 day. A few hundred wretched dupes will take up 
 arms, believing the lies that are told them, and then 
 some Cromwell will come and trample them into mud. 
 The very schemers that lead them astray may be are 
 selling them all the time to the Castle. You yourself, 
 Mr. Sylvester, have played many parts before this, 
 and who knows what part you are playing now ? 
 If you are honest, it is the w^orse for your under- 
 standing." 
 
 " No thanks to you, Morty, for your suspicions cf 
 an innocent m.an," answered his cousin with a sinister 
 twist in his face. You might have remembered I 
 think who it was that spoilt the Colonel's game for 
 him at Kilmakilloge, and brought Lord Kerry's orders 
 to keep your kinsman at the old place. May be that 
 day at Derreen is no pleasant recollection to ye, 
 Morty Oge." 
 
 Any allusion to Goring touched Morty to the 
 quick. 
 
 " I tell ye," he said, " that only for the thought of that 
 
thp: two chiefs of dun boy. 379 
 
 man I would never have seen Kerry more ; and that 
 you know yourself, Sylvester. There was a long score 
 between us when ye came to me, and there is a longer 
 now. If I could be brought to meet him where none 
 could come between us, I would not ask to live 
 another day." 
 
 " May be," said the man who called himself O'Brien, 
 " we would be able some of us to help you to that 
 same, and I had the purpose in m}^ mind when I 
 came to see you this morning. The gentlemen of the 
 county are just wild about the Colonel bringing the 
 Swaddlers here, and spoiling the trade and disturbing 
 the quiet. Devil a frigate, devil a revenue officer 
 would be plaguing the coast at all but for the 
 Colonel. We don't like him, and that is the truth 
 of it, and we would have found means among 
 us to clear him out, but that he is not handy to 
 fix a quarrel upon. The boys say there is not the 
 equal of him with the sword in the four provinces, and 
 what he can do with the pistol you know yourself, 
 Mr. Morty. But you are as good a man as he any day, 
 and I can tell ye that any one who would put the 
 Colonel out of the world would have the thanks of 
 every gentleman that wants claret for his cellar, and 
 of every tenant that wants a market for his fleeces. 
 When the Colonel is gone we may do as we will, and 
 the CDast will be our own from Cape Clear to Dingle. 
 And never fear there will be any stir about him at the 
 Castle. They like him there as little as we do." 
 
 A savage look passed over Morty's face, which 
 the stranger interpreted into encouragement. " You 
 are handy by," he went on. " You are not six 
 miles over the hill from Dunboy, and you have 
 lads here that will do your bidding. They say 
 
38o THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 half the people he brought over have left him and 
 gone to America. What can hinder ye to slip over 
 the pass, catch the Colonel and the lave of them in 
 their sleep, and make a nate end, and be off to sea by 
 the morning. There are not many in Ireland, gentle 
 or simple, but would say you were doing a good ser- 
 vice in that same. 
 
 " These gentlemen of Ireland that the English laws 
 have set to reign over us, seem an interesting set of 
 beings," replied Morty. " There was a story on the 
 Continent about a Danish treasure ship that was 
 wrecked on the coast hereabouts. They said that 
 squires, clergy and great ladies stole the cargo and 
 shared the plunder. They asked me over there if 
 these were the persons whom the English had put 
 into Ireland to keep order, because we were not able 
 to do it ourselves. And now you say they would like 
 me to murder — to murder I say, for that is what you 
 mean — this Colonel Goring, who, to give him his due, 
 is one of the best of them, because he keeps their 
 brandy cellars empty. Pretty rulers they — but, bad 
 though they may be, I don't believe that of them. You 
 are not speaking the truth." 
 
 O'Brien flushed to the roots of his hair. " Is it in- 
 sulting me that you would be, Morty Oge ? " he said, 
 " and me a better gentleman than the best O'Sullivan 
 of the whole of ye." 
 
 " I will quarrel with any man," said Morty, " who 
 proposes to me to assassinate a man in his bed. I 
 am a soldier, sir, and not a cut-throat. You talk of 
 your country, and all you want is the smuggling trade. 
 If I were to do this precious piece of service, which you 
 say would be well taken, who but you would be 
 washing your hands at the door of the Castle, and pre- 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 381 
 
 tending that a pirate had done it that came in from 
 the sea ? You would be sending up your reports and 
 your regrets, and you would prate of your loyalty. 
 There would be a price on my head, and if I was not 
 out of the way you would raise the country to take 
 me and hang me. I am weary of the whole of }-ou. 
 The poor land is under a curse. The sun will 
 never shine on a free Ireland till she has learnt to 
 face her conquerors with better weapons than the 
 murderer's knife." 
 
 " You are sharp in your words, Morty, but I must 
 not answer you back as I would if any spake so but 
 yourself. You have lived so long away from us that 
 you don't know your own people. We know^ what 
 we are about. Sure the English w^ould like nothing 
 better than that we should face them as ye call it. 
 That is not the way at all. We can't do it. But 
 what we can do is to burn their houses and their 
 farms and harry their cattle, and set the Whiteboys 
 on them to scare them in their sleep. Yes, and for 
 all ye say there is the knife and the pistol too 
 for them that plunder the poor with their tithes and 
 their rack-rents. They daren't do as Cromwell did, 
 for the world would cry shame on them, and we can 
 tire them out and make them sick of us, and then 
 may be they will let us drop at last." 
 
 " Go your way then," said Morty, " but it was 
 not the way of my fathers, and it is not mine 
 My ancestors held Dunboy against Carew's cannon. 
 The bones of them lie buried under the walls, and 
 cowardice and ferocity was never laid to their charge. 
 You think you can do better for )'ourself by houghing 
 sheep and cattle. Well then, try it, bi t don't ask me 
 to go along with you, or to bring the French to help 
 
382 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUMBO Y. 
 
 you. Any country may have its liberty, when there 
 is manhood there that will live free or die, and no 
 country I believe, will get much good of its liberty 
 when there is not. If you had stomachs to fight, I 
 would lead you, or I would follow a better leader, and 
 I would advise King Louis to send every man that he 
 could spare to stand at your side. \ brave people 
 always wins in the end, for it costs more to hold them 
 than to let them go." 
 
 " Ye have fine words at your command, there is 
 no denying that, Mr. O'Sullivan, and I'll not say but 
 ye can fight finely too, and w^elcome would be the day 
 when we had need of your hand for that same. But if 
 ye will help us with the Colonel, we'll ask no more of 
 ye for this time. A dale of blood would be running 
 before we could drive the red coats out, and a dale 
 more would run among ourselves when we had seen 
 the last of them and the land was our own. Maybe 
 we see our way to what would be good for us better 
 than yourself But wherever ye go, ye will be the 
 glory of your countr\% and proud will we be to hear 
 ye named. Ye said a hard word of the gentry just 
 now, and ye will not be far off the truth as regards 
 the Protestant intruders among us. May the divil fly 
 away with the last of them ! Til not quarrel with ye, 
 anyway. Only well I know ye would like to clear 
 your account with the Colonel yonder, and your 
 friend, Mr. Blake, will be a glad man the day he 
 hears that the Colonel is under the ground. Sure if ye 
 wouldn't go in the dark ye m.ight take the mountain 
 boys, and we'd provide ye with a score of wild-geese, 
 and ye might just go in the blessed sunlight and 
 have it out in the fair fight that you are so fond of 
 Ye will find but a sprinkling of them left to deal with 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 383 
 
 and you owe them a turn for that night's work at 
 Glengari ff." 
 
 " That would be a brave day," said Sylvester, " and 
 well would I like to see the dawning of it. But you 
 must mind what you are about with thim English. 
 They will take a deal from us, and never seem to 
 heed what we do, but if we go a step too far they are 
 just wild, as Phelim O'Neil found to his sorrow. We 
 may shoot a landlord or an exciseman or two, and no 
 word said about it, but if ye hurt the women or little 
 ones — and maybe some of them w^ould get a stroke 
 or two if ye went to work as Mr. O'Brien proposes — 
 or if there is anything which they could call a 
 massacre, they will set the red coats on us, and be 
 hanging and shooting our poor boys all over the 
 Barony. They were talking of a garrison in the 
 [sland over there. Sure the talk would be earnest 
 then, and that would be the worst of the whole. No, 
 no ; a house may be burnt, and a man that is under 
 the displeasure of high and low may get his 
 deservings, and it will be the talk for a week or two, 
 and no more about it, but you must respect the 
 customs of the country." 
 
 " I tell you," said Morty, " I will have none of your 
 customs. You have ruffians enough of your own to 
 do your devil's work w^ithout coming to me. Bring 
 Colonel Goring and me where none can inter- 
 fere with us, and I will thank any of ye. We can 
 then settle our differences once for all, and there will 
 be an end. But if I challenge him he will only send 
 word to Cork that I am here, and every frigate on the 
 station will be out to seize me. Goring gave me my 
 life once, and it shall never be said that I took him at 
 a disadvantage." 
 
384 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 '' Indeed then, it's mighty particular you are, Morty 
 Oge," said Sylvester, " and it is little like an honour- 
 able man the Colonel would be if he refused the 
 challenge of a gentleman that is better born than he 
 is. You forget what is due to yourself, kinsman, to 
 be condescending that way with a thief that has 
 stolen the land that belongs to \'e. But we love ye 
 the more for it, and maybe we will find the means to 
 help you to your wish. The Colonel is a trusting 
 gentleman, and easily believes any tale that is 
 brought to him. Leave it to me, and 111 fetch him 
 where there shall be none but your two selves as ye 
 say, unless Mr. Council and I might be in the neigh- 
 bourhood to see fair play." 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 The world had not mended with Colonel (ioring 
 since his people began to drift away from him, and it 
 seemed as if circumstances would do his enemies' 
 work, and force him out of the country, vs-ithout 
 further stir on their part. The peasantry of the 
 neighbourhood, agitated by rumours of a French 
 landing, grew unruly and insolent. Encouraged by 
 the reduction of the numbers of the settlers, they 
 renewed the attacks on their property, which had 
 been repressed sharply when first ventured. Cattle 
 were again mutilated and fences broken down, and 
 corn stacks set on fire. The smuggling enterprises 
 revived on a larger scale than ever, and the colonists, 
 harassed and dispirited, were less willing to lend 
 their help in making seizures. Fox, the minister, who 
 had remained as a guest after the Primate's judgment, 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOV. 385 
 
 was cursed from the altar of the adjoining chapel, and 
 was warned to be gone. Loyal as the remnant had 
 seemed when their frienJs departed, the blow had 
 been none the less serious, for instead of hope it had 
 left despondency. As the annoyances increased, 
 there was an increasing desire to follow them. 
 Special diseases are generated by peculiar conditions. 
 The colony of Dunboy was sickening of the same 
 disorder which liad carried off the successive groups 
 of Protestants who had been established in the South 
 of Ireland. The climate was not favourable, and 
 they withered in the uncongenial air. 
 
 The seceders who had departed first, had been 
 those who were most strongly under religious im- 
 pressions. Their example and their influence being 
 removed, the rest fell off from the austere habits which 
 had distinguished them all at the beginning. They 
 were not dissolute or immoral, but they were more 
 like ordinary men. How they thought and felt 
 might be perceived in a fragment of a conversation 
 between a party of them one evening after work. 
 
 " Well, master," said a big miner from Liskeard, 
 named Treherne, " I don't know how it strikes you, 
 but for my part I don't like the look of things, and I 
 shall clear out before long. I have saved a little 
 money, and I shall take the wife and the young ones 
 home, before worse comes of 't. We have had no 
 luck since the rest went off", and in my mind we shall 
 not mend." 
 
 " True enough," said a young fisherman, " things are 
 not as they were, and I don't rightly know the mean- 
 ing of it. But the Colonel and his lady have been 
 good friends to me and mine, and I will not leave the 
 ship at the first touch of bad weather. He is a good 
 
 25 
 
386 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 man, is the Colonel. He tries to do his duty to his 
 Master, and I will do mine to him." 
 
 " And get your head broken for your pains, as you 
 did last year at Glengariff," sneered the miner. " We 
 came here to get a living by our work. What had we 
 to do with fighting and quarrelling, and making the 
 people hate us? If they chose to run a keg or two 
 of brandy to keep their stomachs warm in this 
 precious climate, it is no more than the lads do at 
 home." 
 
 " You came here with your eyes open, Dick," said 
 another. " Twas part of the bargain you signed with 
 the Colonel, to help him in the revenue work. You 
 have made a good bit of money out of the mine ; you 
 don't deny that, and you must take the rough with 
 the smooth. For my part, I would stay willingly 
 enough, if they had not shut the school up. I don't 
 w^ant children of mine to grow up ignorant Heathens, 
 or Papists, which is worse." 
 
 "No fear of that," answered Treherne. " The last 
 of us will be gone out of this place before any child of 
 yours or mine will lose his soul among these savages. 
 The Colonel thinks he can make them mend their 
 ways. I'd as soon think to make a nigger into a 
 white man, or one of those cannibals that the 
 voyagers write of, into a Christian. What was the 
 first thing I saw this morning ? Tom Pollen's red 
 cow roaring about the field with her tail sheared off 
 at the stump, and the white heifer lying on the grass 
 with the sinews of her hind legs cut through. Things 
 can't go on in this way. I would shoot the skulking 
 rascals like so much vermin, if the Colonel would allow 
 it. But he won't. Well, then live and let live. He 
 can't stand by himself, and the Government won't 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 387 
 
 stand by him, nor anybody else that I see. The whole 
 of us had better clear out." 
 
 More clearly than any of his people, Goring himself 
 saw whither he was drifting. Fitzherbert, after stay- 
 ing half-a-year with him, had gone at last. He had 
 done his best to persuade him to abandon a hopeless 
 enterprise, and to leave the country. But to this, Goring 
 would answer that God had placed him there, and 
 that he must remain at his post till he was relieved ; 
 and there w^as no more to be said. Only many an 
 anxious conversation passed between him and the 
 companion of his life on their changing outlook. No 
 clamorous peasants any longer brought theircomplaints 
 to his hall-door in the mornings ; no children with 
 scalded legs were brought to the house for the mistress 
 to mend them. The greetings on the roads which used 
 to be kindly, were exchanged for a look of unfriendly 
 recognition, while the nightly outrages shewed that 
 the worst spirit was abroad. The Colonel still went 
 about unarmed. To carry pistols, he said, would not 
 diminish any danger which there might be, and he 
 had an objection to shooting people himself, which 
 perhaps he might do if he was attacked. But he also 
 felt that ' he could not keep English families about 
 him whom he could not protect, while he could 
 not allow them to take the law into their own 
 hands. Specially he felt that Dunboy w^as no longer 
 a fit place for women, and he proposed to send his 
 wife away to Cork again. To this she had answered, 
 that if it was not a fit place for her, it was not fit for the 
 families of the miners and fishermen. Enthusiastic 
 as her husband, but with clearer judgment, she saw 
 that their experiment had failed, or, as the first seceders 
 expressed themselves, that it was not God's will that 
 
 25* 
 
388 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 it should prosper. "If you stay, and the rest stay, I 
 must stay, too," she said. " But surely we have done 
 enough. Let us go home together. We have fought 
 a good fight, and if we have not succeeded, the fault 
 is not with us or with our people. We have still 
 money, God be praised. Wliy persist in useless efforts 
 to improve a race which will not be improved on 
 our pattern, or to serve a Government which neither 
 helps nor thanks you." 
 
 To these arguments constantly repeated, the Colonel 
 could but answer as he had answered Fitzherbert, 
 that God had put him where he was, and had given 
 him a duty to do. If, as he hoped, he was one of 
 God's servants, he must take the work which was 
 allotted to him. Absenteeism had been the curse of 
 Ireland. Providence had given him an estate there, 
 and he must reside upon it, come what would. He 
 admitted, however, that there would have to be a 
 change of some kind ; and one Saturday at the 
 beginning of March, when the week's work was over, 
 he called his people together to address them on the 
 situation. Since the failure of his appeal to the Dub- 
 lin Courts, the chapel at the house had been closed. 
 The congregation had chosen one of themselves to 
 read and explain the Bible to them, and they met at 
 each other s houses, out of sight and below the notice 
 of any one inclined to inform against them. Goring 
 and his family, with a few of the rest, \\\\o had not 
 seceded from the Establishment, used to go on Sundays 
 to the church at Glengariff. On this occasion he 
 invited them all to meet him at the old place. The 
 bell woke from its long silence. The hall, for it was 
 but a hall after all, soon filled to overflowing, for the 
 hearts of the people were full, and they knew that the 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 389 
 
 master himself meant to speak to them. Every mem- 
 ber of the little colony that could be spared from 
 home was present, men, women, and children, well- 
 dressed, decent, and respectful, even the discontented 
 among them, like old Treherne, for all loved the 
 Colonel ; all felt that never in theii lives elsewhere 
 had they fallen in with a man who might, if he had 
 pleased, have lived in luxury and security, and had 
 chosen to expose himself to so many dangers and 
 difficulties, because he believed it to be right. The 
 priest had long since forbidden his own flock to go 
 near the Colonel's meeting-house, yet even of these, 
 one or two had looked in, who had not forgotten his 
 kindness, who still regarded him with a kind of loyalty 
 as the owner of the land, and who wished to hear ^^'hat 
 he had to say. 
 
 This time there was no service. The chapel had 
 become only a room. But the link which held the 
 Colonel and his people together was in their common 
 faith. He knew that many of the best and simplest 
 of them were perplexed at the withholding of the 
 help from Providence for which they thought that 
 they might have looked, and to this very natural 
 feeling he wished to address himself. When they 
 were all collected, he came forward on the platform, 
 and said : 
 
 " You and I, my friends, believe with all our hearts, 
 that God is a living God. He is no Idol, but the 
 actual living ruler of this world. This is the basis on 
 which we build our own lives. Yet Psalmists and 
 Prophets — and not they only, but perhaps every man 
 and woman who has tried to do God's will — have 
 been staggered by His apparent indifference, and have 
 cried out in their perplexity — ' where is God ? We 
 
390 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY . 
 
 have never seen Him — we have seen no signs of Him ; 
 there is one event to the good and the evil ; oh 
 that He would rend the heavens and come down ! 
 Oh that He would but shew Himself for one moment, 
 and assure us by definite proof, that He is really 
 there.' The soldier, on a campaign, loses his heart, if 
 his General hides himself in his tent. One, greater 
 than the saints, cried out upon the cross, that He was 
 forsaken. And this is the feeling of all persons, in the 
 bottom of their hearts, who have been trying hard to 
 do right, and find circumstances too strong for them. 
 They are apt to fancy that if God was really on our 
 side, it could not be so. They will allow it to be true 
 that God has never promised success — that is, out- 
 ward and worldly success — to those who give them- 
 selves up to His service. He has promised them 
 rather mortification and suffering, and apparent 
 failure. But no one entirely believes that, in his own 
 case. He can understand the misfortunes of other 
 people. He feels no surprise when he reads what has 
 happened to saints and martyrs. He can admire the 
 ways of Providence, which has used their sufferings 
 as a witness for the truth, and not against it. But 
 when the trial comes home to himself, he is generally 
 puzzled and distressed. And something of this kind 
 is very likely passing through the minds of many of 
 you who are listening to me. You came to Ireland 
 at my invitation, to work with me on an estate which 
 I had not sought, which God's Providence gave to 
 me. We have taken nothing from any man ; we have 
 cultivated land which was lying barren ; we have 
 caught fish which, but for us, would have been left in 
 the sea ; we have raised metals, which were lying 
 untouched in the earth ; we have brought wealth 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 391 
 
 where before there was poverty ; we have introduced 
 order and law ; we have set an example of industry; 
 we have injured no one, and we have helped all who 
 would take help at our hands — yet no one has stood 
 by us, no one has encouraged us. Those who ought 
 to have been our friends will have nothing to do with 
 us ; we have enemies all round, and we cannot go 
 about our daily labour without danger. You will 
 naturally ask yourselves why you ought to persevere 
 any longer in a thankless struggle ? Last year, it was 
 borne in upon many of our number, that they had a 
 call elsewhere, and their letters tell us that they are 
 prosperous and happy in the new land that they have 
 chosen. You have stayed by me, and I have been 
 touched with your affection and fidelity. But have I 
 a right to ask you to remain any longer ? I myself 
 have no choice. God has placed me here, and here I 
 must continue till I am called away. You have no 
 such call. To you it is open to choose whether you 
 will face the dangers, which I do not conceal from 
 you that I believe to be increasing, or whether you 
 will go home, or will follow your friends to New 
 England. Here, you are an unprotected outpost in 
 an enemy's country. The Government does not sup- 
 port us — we are left to remain, if we please, on our 
 own risk and responsibility. For me, I have an 
 assurance within me that I am where I ought to be — 
 doing, or trying to do, what my conscience orders me. 
 I may lose my life. To be ready to face death, is a 
 condition of a soldier's service, and I cannot find a 
 more honourable end. But this does not apply to 
 you ; and, if you choose to stick by me, it must be 
 with your eyes open. The Roman Emperor, when 
 his small army was surrounded by multitudes of 
 
392 
 
 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOV. 
 
 Africans, did not make light of the peril, but ex- 
 aggerated and insisted upon it, and then said that if 
 any wished to leave him, they might go, and he would 
 provide them with a passage. I repeat that for any, 
 and, if you please, for all of you, vessels shall be pro- 
 vided, at my expense, to carry you where you may 
 desire. Go, then, you who prefer to go and follow 
 your friends — and stay, you that will stay. The Lord 
 can save by few, as well as by many. Three hundred 
 men alone were left to Gideon to encounter the 
 Midianites, but the three hundred were enough. 
 Those were days of miracles, and there are no 
 miracles now. But we know, what Gideon did not 
 know, of how little consequence is anything which 
 may befall us in this world. I cannot prophesy what 
 may happen to you or to me. But, well assured I 
 am, that no honest work which we may do in this 
 world is lost in the end— and that nothing which we 
 suffer will be thrown away. The battles of the Lord 
 are but as other battles. The bra\-est and best may 
 fall, but their lives are the price of victory." 
 
 So spoke Colonel Goring : the enthusiasm of faith 
 being tempered, in him, into quiet and calm con- 
 viction. But he did not expect heroic virtues from 
 miners and fishermen. Emotion may lift even the 
 com.monest men, for moments, into self-forgetful- 
 ness ; and conscience, and shame and pride may 
 hold them up where the voice of duty is plain. 
 But instinct tells every child of Adam to withdraw 
 himself, and those dear to him, out of the way 
 of perils which he may think that he is not 
 called upon to face, and Goring would neither 
 have been surprised, nor been much disappointed, 
 if his offer had been closed with on the spot. 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 393 
 
 DoubtlesSj many of those who heard him did feel 
 that they would gladly be out of the scrape, and 
 home in Cornwall again. Their prospect of high 
 wages and prosperity was gone, unless their labour 
 and lives were protected ; and the Colonel's lan- 
 guage, on these points, had not been consoling. 
 Some, who were earnest Christians, believed that they 
 were going the wrong way to work, that Ireland was 
 still but a half-conquered country, and that, if it was 
 to be civilized after the English pattern, the sword 
 must go before the Evangel, as in Cromwell's time- 
 Personal admiration for their Chief, however, deter- 
 mined them — at least for the moment — to continue 
 to share his fortunes. They could not believe that, 
 after all which it had cost England to plant Protestant 
 colonies in Ireland, they would be deliberately sacri- 
 ficed. Those who, like Treherne, were disaffected, found 
 it prudent to be silent ; not a single family confessed 
 to irresolution ; and when the assembly broke up, 
 there was an unusual display of animation and affec- 
 tion. Their spirit rose. That some sixty Englishmen, 
 well armed and drilled, and with an English garrison 
 in the same county, should be in personal danger 
 from a rabble of savages whom they despised, was 
 absurd and incredible. If only they were left free to 
 use their weapons, the Irish might hate them as much 
 as they pleased. 
 
 So talking among themselves they Vv-ent their 
 several ways, a few loiterers only being left who 
 had special communications to make or questions to 
 ask. A stranger who had been in the chapel, 
 came up to Goring, as he was standing at the door, 
 and said : 
 
 " The Lord bless your honour this day, and a good 
 
394 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 day it is for Ireland to see your honour and the likes 
 of ye in the midst of us ! The Lord prosper ye, and 
 grant ye long life, yourself and your good lady, to 
 reign in Dunboy ! It is cutting our own throats we'd 
 be, or star\ing for hunger, if ye were taken away ! 
 And if your honour is tould that there is any here 
 that would do ye hurt — barring a few skulking 
 villains that we'll have out of this, or know the reason 
 for it — don't believe them, your honour ! They are 
 telling ye a lie ! " 
 
 Such effusive expressions from a person whom he 
 could not recall that he had ever seen before, struck 
 the Colonel as excessive. He knew Ireland by this 
 time, and knew what such vehement protestations 
 were worth. Some request or other usually followed, 
 and it seemed to him that there was to be something 
 of the same kind in this case. The man professed to 
 have a communication to miake to him of an urgent 
 kind, and begged for a private interview. 
 
 Colonel Goring reserved his Saturday evenings for 
 himself as a preparation for Sunday, and was besides 
 affected by the scene which he had just passed 
 through. He required to know on the spot what the 
 business was. The stranger would say nothing, sa\'e 
 that it was an affair of life and death. It was neces- 
 sary for him to see some magistrate at once, and the 
 Colonel was the only magistrate within reach. 
 
 Some caution was observed in admitting persons 
 who were not known. The man was introduced into 
 the hall, and two of the water-guard were directed to 
 stand outside at the door. Colonel Goring then 
 looked at his visitor more particularly. He was a 
 man advanced in years, dressed in the grey, coarse 
 frieze of the country, with the common expression of 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 395 
 
 innocent helplessness, which is not always a true in- 
 dication of the character behind it. His coat was in 
 holes ; his breeches were untied at the knees ; his 
 stockings were torn, and his shoes stringless. His hair 
 was matted and grey, and he had green wandering 
 eyes, which looked everywhere save at the person to 
 whom he was speaking. From such a figure nothing 
 important seemed likely to come, but Ireland was a 
 strange country, and the Irish \\'ere a strange people. 
 
 " Well, man," said Goring, you say that you have 
 business with me ? Who are you ? And what do 
 you want ? " 
 
 The stranger rubbed his head, glanced vacantly 
 round the hall, and dangled his hat in his hand. 
 " I'm a poor boy, your honour, from beyant Bantry 
 towards Dunmanway, if your honour would be pleased 
 to give me a help ! " 
 
 " Give you a help ? " the Colonel said. " There are 
 boys enough, and men and v.omen too, for that 
 matter, that want help, and some deserve it and some 
 don't. But you told me you had come on a matter of 
 life and death — whose life and whose death ? " 
 
 " It is hard to know your honour who is living and 
 who is dead in this distracted country, and in some 
 parts there is little to choose between them, and a 
 short step from one to the other. There has been 
 wild work up yonder with the proctors and the rest 
 of it ! " 
 
 " A tithe riot again ? " said the Colonel, whose 
 attention was caught in a moment by his recollection 
 of the scene on the mountains. " But why do you 
 come to me, five and twenty miles away ? Why 
 didn't you go to Mr. White at Bantry ? He has 
 charge of the district, and has the force of the 
 
396 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 county with him. What are you yourself, and what 
 have you to do with it ? " 
 
 " Sure, your honour, Mr. White is not in the 
 countr}^ at ah. He is gone to England they say, and 
 there is none but yourself that we have to look to, 
 more by token that }-our honour is a good Protestant, 
 and there is mighty i^w of us that way in this land ! " 
 
 " A Protestant are you ? " said Goring, looking 
 again sharply at him. " You don't seem a credit to 
 your profession. These disturbances are no affair of 
 mine, unless they happen in my own barony ; and 
 I don't care how little I am concerned in other 
 people's business. But speak out ! Tell me what 
 has happened ! " 
 
 " Your honour is a good friend to the poor, and 
 there is no wonder if )-e care to hear as little as ye 
 can of thim proctors. But it is not them that does 
 the wrong that feels the worst smart of it. When 
 the childer are starving the fathers are just mad. 
 They are like dogs driven wild, your honour, and bite 
 at whatever is nearest them. ]\Iy poor master that 
 has the church on the way from Bantry to Dunman- 
 v/ay — the Lord be good to him ! — he is just destroyed 
 entirely, and the Lord knows whether the life is in 
 him at this hour, and he as poor as the \^-orst of them ! 
 No food better than the potatoes and the milk has 
 crossed the lips of him this twelvemonth ! 'Tis truth 
 I am telling your honour, and the Lord knows it ! " 
 
 " I can make nothing of this," said the Colonel, 
 growing impatient. " Sit down, man, and tell me your 
 story from the beginning. Some crime has been com- 
 mitted. The curate at the Cross Roads, my friend Mr. 
 Dudgeon, has been injured, I suppose. But how, and 
 w^hy, and when ? " 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 397 
 
 " It is the same good gentleman that your honcur 
 speaks of ; and it is I that am all the servant that he 
 has to look after the cow and the bit of garden and 
 ring the church bell on Sundays ! It is but two 
 shillings a week he gives me for that same, and he 
 can afford no more, with his children running about 
 without shoes to their feet, and his own clothes hang- 
 ing in rags upon him ! " 
 
 " Tell your story your own way, my good fellow," 
 said the Colonel, " only tell it I can do nothing till I 
 know what is the matter." 
 
 " Well, then, I'll tell your honour, and no more 
 words about it. Your honour knows we are a 
 poor people up there. Papists and Protestants are 
 poor enough for that matter, all Ireland over, and we 
 have hard masters upon us. Your honour has learnt by 
 now how many pounds the acre they take for our bits 
 of land for the potatoes. There is the agent, and the 
 leaseholder, and the leasholder that is beyond him, 
 and another below, or may be two, and the poor boy 
 that works the ground must keep the whole of them, 
 with my lord that lives in England besides them 
 all. The divil knows how they part it among 
 themselves, but the boys must find it, and how are 
 they and their families to live at all, your honour, 
 let alone the pig? And that is not the worst, for 
 when the rint is paid, the rector of the parish must 
 have his tenth bag of potatoes, and the tenth sheep, 
 and the tenth of the pig's litter. The rector himself 
 is the Dane of the Cathedral with the roof oft^ the 
 top of it, and he has six other parishes besides, and 
 never a church in any one of the seven save the 
 little chapel at the Cross Roads, and never a curate 
 but Mr. Dudgeon, that has twenty pounds a year 
 
398 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 from him, and mighty generous he thinks he is for 
 that same. He is a fine preacher in London, they 
 say, and he keeps a Proctor in each of his parishes, and 
 five shilHngs by the }^ear he gives them, and they 
 squeeze the rest of their Hving out of the poor people, 
 who have to keep their own Priest besides, for fear 
 the divil get them at the last day." 
 
 There vras a scornful tone in the account of the 
 Rector and his London occupations, which did 
 not suit exactly with the account which the 
 man had given of himself or with his abject 
 appearance. Again Colonel Goring examined his 
 face, and for a moment fancied that he had seen it 
 somewhere before ; but his recollections failed him ; 
 the impression passed off, and the vacant look 
 returned. Colonel Goring knew too well the general 
 truth of the picture to suspect on that account the 
 honesty of the person that described it. But he was 
 as far away from the point as ever. " All this may 
 be true my man," he said, " but what has this to do 
 with the story you have come to tell me ? What 
 has been done at the Cross Ways? " 
 
 " Is it not telling your honour that I am, as fast 
 as my tongue can out with it ? Your honour knows 
 that last year was a short harvest, and the landlords 
 and the agents all the country over, barring your 
 honours self, would abate nothing, and would have 
 the last farthing, or the tenants should be out in the 
 road ; and the poor people didn't know where to 
 turn, the liltle ones crying for food and none to give 
 them. Then came up lawyers from Cork for the 
 clergy, and they cleared away the lave of the male 
 and the potatoes. So the people went clane mad, 
 and the Whiteboys were out to find the villains, and 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 399 
 
 they could find none of tJiem, for sure they had gone 
 av.av witli what they had got as if the divil was 
 at the heels of them. So the boys came to Mr. Dud- 
 geon's house, who had done no harm to mother's son. 
 But what did the bloody-minded ruffians care for that ? 
 They said if he hadn't done it, them as he served 
 had done it. 'Twas for the Protestant Church they 
 were all robbed and murdered. So they up with 
 him out of his bed, your honour, his wife lying by 
 the side of him, and she screeching, and the boys 
 swearing they would make an end of her if she 
 didn't hould her tongue, and they stripped off Mr. 
 Dudgeon's shirt and laid him on his face on the 
 floor naked as he was. They tied his arms and his 
 legs. They brought a great Tom cat and set 
 it on the back of him, and they dragged the 
 baste up and down by his tail, the cat scratching, 
 and spitting, and driving the claws of him into the 
 poor gintleman's flesh till it was all as if they had 
 drawn a harrow over him. Some of them thought 
 this enough, and would have spared him more. 
 But the black heart was in the most of them, and 
 the}' said they would have his life before they gave 
 up. So they took him out into the bog and dug a 
 pit, and laid the bottom of it with thorns, and flung 
 him in naked as he was on the top of them. Thin 
 for fear he should catch could, as they ^aid, they 
 heaped in more briars and faggots round him, just 
 leaving his head out and no more. They trampled 
 them ail in till he neither spoke nor stirred. This 
 done, they locked the rest of us in the house and 
 swore we should all die if we looked out before the 
 morning. So they left us and went their ways. 
 The poor lady was almost dead with it. When the 
 
400 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 day broke we went out and we found the master. 
 We thought he was gone, for he was covered over 
 with blood, and he spoke never a word. But there 
 was Hfe in him yet, and we put him in his bed, and 
 the lady, she crying and beside herself like, bade me 
 go to your honour and tell you how it was, and to 
 pray your honour if it was likely you would be at 
 Glengariff Church the next morning to ride on to 
 the Cross Ways and do what you could to help 
 them." 
 
 In any country but Ireland such a story would 
 have been regarded as a wild imagination. But 
 Colonel Goring knew from his own experience what 
 the people among whom he lived were capable of 
 when driven to fury about tithes, and he knew also 
 that the unfortunate curates were too often made 
 the scapegoats on whom the popular rage- was 
 expended. He could not say that such a thing could 
 not have happened. He cross-questioned his visitor 
 up and down as to when or how it had all been. He 
 liked neither the man's look nor his manners. But 
 he could detect no inconsistencies, and the tale held 
 well together. The wretched old fellow admitted 
 that he had been too much frightened himself to 
 attempt to defend his master. He had kept out of 
 sight because, as he said, they would have been un- 
 marciful to him as a Protestant convert. His frank 
 confession of cowardice was an evidence in his favour. 
 Goring was acquainted with the spot and the neigh- 
 bourhood, and slightly with Mr Dudgeon himself, 
 who was a hard-working and half-starved curate. 
 Other magistrates lived nearer to the scene of the 
 outrage than himself; but some, he was aware, 
 were absent, and the one or two that were resident 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 401 
 
 exerted themselves as little as possible in the interests 
 of the poorer clergy. The information was so expHcit 
 that he felt that he ought not to neglect it. His 
 habit was to go to Glengariff for service on Sunday 
 morning, with as many of his people as would accom- 
 pany him, and Glengariff was on the way, and more 
 than half the distance. Should the story be true, 
 and he had no reason to suppose it false, he would 
 never forgive himself should the unfortunate man be 
 dead, as was too likely, and if he had neglected to go 
 to the help of the unhappy widow and her children. 
 
 Nothing could be done that night. They usually 
 went to Glengariff by water, as the easiest and quickest 
 mode of getting there, but he would require a horse 
 for the rest of the way. The service being at twelve 
 too, he reflected that if he waited till it was over he 
 would not have time to reach the Cross Roads and 
 return before nightfall. He therefore decided that he 
 would ride forward early and alone. At Glengariff he 
 would hear further particulars. Some report or other 
 would have reached the people there, unless the whole 
 story was a fiction, and he could imagine no reason 
 why such a tale should have been invented. To tell 
 lies might be natural enough to the Irish character, 
 but they would be lies with a purpose, and in this 
 instance no purpose was conceivable. If nothing 
 was known at Glengariff, he would then attend church 
 as usual, and return. 
 
 The man, having walked all day, as he said, pro- 
 fessed to be tired, and required a few hcurs' rest. 
 Colonel Goring offered him supper, but he declined 
 to eat, having been well fed, as he alleged, at a cabin 
 on the road-side. He desired only to be allowed to 
 lie down for a bit. A bed of straw in the loft over the 
 
 26 
 
402 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 stable would answer him well, and he could be off 
 on his way before daybreaV without disturbing the 
 famil}^ 
 
 It all seemed straightforward, and yet Goring knew 
 that the Irish were the best actors in the world. 
 There was something about the man not satisfactory 
 to him ; nor could he shake off the impression that 
 somewhere under some circumstances he had seen that 
 face before. He was not of a nature, however, to be 
 deterred from doing what he thought right by \-ague 
 misgivings. He would not alarm his wife by a horrible 
 story. He told her merely that he was obliged to be 
 early at Glengariff the next morning. He would ride 
 forward, and she could follow with the rest in the boat. 
 The horse was ordered. The stranger was given his 
 straw bed in the stable ; the Colonel's habit also was 
 to go to rest early ; but the frightful character of the 
 country in which his lot was cast, had been freshly 
 brought home to him, and disinclined him to sleep. 
 He sat long gazing out of his window on the sea, his 
 eyes following, half unconsciousl}', the patches of 
 moonlight between the shadows of the clouds. His 
 rule on Saturday evenings was to touch no worldly 
 business, and to spend an hour or t\vo always in 
 meditation. But his thoughts wandered. He could 
 not fix his attention as he desired. Either mechani- 
 call\-, or because he wished to occupy himself, he 
 arranged his papers, made a few notes, and wrote re- 
 plies to letters which needed answers. He lay down 
 at length to toss uneasily through the midnight hours, 
 to fall at last into broken snatches of slumber, and to 
 dream that he was at Culloden again. When he 
 awoke, the sun was shining over the crest of Hungry 
 Hill. It was later than he expected. He hurried on 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 403 
 
 his clothes, snatched a hasty breakfast, mounted his 
 horse and rode away. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 On the road to Glengariff, near the sea, and at no very 
 great distance from the gate of the avenue which led 
 to Dunboy, there stood a blacksmith's shop. The 
 blacksmith himself, Minahan by name, was a tenant 
 on the estate. He was a native of the place, and a Ca- 
 tholic ; but he w^as a good workman when he cared 
 to be industrious ; and Colonel Goring had provided 
 him with so much employment that he was seldom 
 idle. He mended chains, forged anchors, made ring- 
 bolts and elects for the boats, repaired carts, ham- 
 mered picks and crowbars for the miners, and helped 
 the engineers when the machinery fell out of order. 
 His manner was sullen. He seldom asked a 
 question, and when he was questioned himself he 
 answered no more than was necessary. Goring on 
 the whole liked him because he neither lied nor 
 cringed, and because he did his work satisfactorily. 
 But the acquaintance had not passed into intimacy. 
 When there was a wheel to be mended, or a horse to 
 be shod, Minahan was always ready to do it, and be 
 paid for it. Such as he was there was no one else of 
 his trade in the neighbourhood, so that there was 
 constant intercourse between him and the Colonel's 
 people. His connection with them was a business 
 one, and he seemed to decline all more friendly 
 relations. If he showed no good-will, however, he 
 showed no malice. If silent, he was never disrespect- 
 ful. As a tenant he paid his rent regularly, and if he 
 
 26* 
 
404 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 wanted repairs or improvements at his house or forge, 
 the Colonel was always ready to execute them. He 
 was a tall, lean man, strong and sinew}-, with dark- 
 matted hair, face and hands scarred and seamed by 
 sparks from the anvil, and his left eye injured through 
 the same cause. 
 
 Before daylight, on the morning which followed the 
 events related in the last chapter, a fishing lugger 
 came round Dursey Island, and ran up into Bantry 
 Bay. Under Fair Head she reduced her canvas, and 
 brought up behind the hill. With the first streak of 
 dawn a six-oared cutter, which she had towed astern, 
 left her side and pulled in towards the island. In the 
 dress of her crew there was nothing particular to 
 attract attention ; they rowed well and shewed that 
 they understood their business ; but except that it was 
 unusual for a boat to be out at that hour on a Sunda) 
 morning, they might have passed for local fishermen. 
 There was no one, however, to ask what they were, or 
 even to see them. At Dunboy all was quiet ; the 
 herring boats were drawn up on the shingle, thcii 
 owners with their families sleeping late on the one 
 holiday of the week. The strangers whoever they 
 might be, knew the habits of the place, for they pulled 
 across the mouth of the bay, and entered a creek 
 covered by a ledge of rocks, a short walk from Mina- 
 han's forge. Two men wrapped in boat cloaks who 
 had been sitting in the stern rose as they toujched 
 ground, and stepped ashore. One was slight and ol 
 middle height, the other tall and powerfully built 
 Under their cloaks it could be seen that both of 
 them were armed. They had their swords, skencs 
 at their belts, and pistols handsomely mounted, with 
 barrels chased and inlaid. The shorter of the two 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 405 
 
 ordered one man to stay in the boat and the rest to 
 follow him. They then went on together to the road. 
 The sun was still below the horizon, and no one was 
 abroad. The forge had been closed for the night, but 
 the blacksmith himself was stirring. He had thrown 
 back one of the shutters, and the door was ajar 
 which led from the outside shed into the workshop. 
 He showed no surprise at the appearance of his 
 visitors, whom he evidently expected. 
 
 "Is Sylvester here ? " the short man asked. 
 
 Minahan nodded, and pointed to the open door. 
 They entered, and found there, waiting for them, the 
 so-called servant of the curate at the Cress Ways. 
 
 " Welcome are ye, Morty Oge," said Sylvester to 
 Sullivan, for he it was. " It's in fine time ye are. The 
 Colonel will not be here for an hour yet, but ye'll see 
 him at the end of it ; and he will be stopping here 
 of himself at the forge, if there is faith in a nail and a 
 horse's sore foot." 
 
 " And what was the need of hurting a dumb beast ?" 
 said Morty. " Ye are always after some devilry or 
 other. You told me, as it was Sunday morning, he 
 would be going by to his church ; and what would be 
 easier than for the boys with me to bring him to a 
 halt ? " 
 
 " I couldn't chance it," said S}'lvester. " I'd be 
 sorry anything went wrong, and yourself going away, 
 and this the last occasion ye'd have. You may place 
 the boys behind a rock that's there a few yards down, 
 if it should so be that he rides by ; but he will not, 
 Devil fear it. Ye see I could'nt trust to the church- 
 going. One time he goes by the water, and another 
 by the land — and if he goes by the land he has always 
 a parcel of the Swaddlers about him, so I thought 
 
4o6 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 I'd take a surer way with him. The Colonel is of a 
 free nature if any story is brought him of some one 
 that wants his help. So I made up a tale of how the 
 Dunmanway boys were out about the tithes, and how^ 
 they had carded the curate beyont, and left him for 
 half dead, and how the wife was crying out for his 
 honour to come and save the poor cratur's life if any 
 life was in him." 
 
 " You are a treacherous villain, Sylvester ; but it 
 must pass for this time. I mean the Colonel no 
 wrong. He shall have fair play as a gentleman, and 
 that is all that he has a right to ask for. Are you 
 sure he did not recognize you ? " 
 
 " Troth, and he did not. He never saw me but onst, 
 the day at Derreen, )^ou'll remember. I'll tell you how 
 it was," Sylvester said. " But I'll just place the boys 
 behind the rock I spoke of, for fear he might pass." 
 
 " And tell them," said Morty, " that they are to stop 
 him, and no more ; and tell them, too, that the\' are 
 to stay where they are till I come for them. It shall 
 never be said that I took unfair advantage." 
 
 S}'lvester muttered an unwilling assent. He went 
 out, and in a few minutes returned, and went on with 
 his story. 
 
 " Ye'd not have known me yourself in these old rags, 
 and it is odd if I could not desave an Englishman ; 
 let alone the Colonel, that is the simplest of the whole 
 of them. Tell the Colonel ye come from the moon, 
 and he will believe ye if ye say ye are a Protestant. 
 He will be on the road by the time the sun is over 
 the hill. He wall come to a halt at this door, or I 
 know nothing of farriery, and devil a servant he will 
 have behind him either, or so much as a pistol to 
 defend himself." 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BO Y. 407 
 
 " You may set so many traps that you will be 
 caught yourself one day, Sylvester. How do you 
 know that he will be unarmed ? How do you know 
 that he will have no one with him ? How do you 
 know that he will ride at all with the tide flowing and 
 the water smooth ? " 
 
 "How do I know?" Sylvester answered. "It has 
 been my business to mark the Colonel since he came 
 into this country. He will be unarmed, because he 
 goes unarmed always. I suppose he cut down so 
 many poor creatures at Culloden that he is feared at 
 the sight of blood. He don't like to shoot any man, 
 as ye have experienced yourself, Morty Oge. He 
 will have none with him, because he will never take a 
 servant out on the ' Sabbath Day,' as thim Swaddlers 
 call it ; and as to the boats they are to go later with 
 the lady, and the Colonel will ride. They put me for 
 the night into the stable, and I got talking with the 
 groom that was there. He show^ed me the horses, as 
 I knew he would, and I just asked him which of them 
 it was that the master rode when he went upon his 
 arrants of mercy. What did the innocent cratur say 
 but that it was sometimes one and sometimes another. 
 It would be the grey, however, that he'd ride in the 
 morning, for that was the horse he had ordered. So 
 when all was shut up, and the key turned in the stable 
 door, I just slipped down the ladder out of the garret 
 above. There was a bit of candle left in the lantern, 
 and I had all I needed in the pocket of me. I diew" 
 a nail from the shoe of the near hind foot and slipped 
 in a longer one in the place of it. The point will have 
 run into the quick before the Colonel has been half a 
 mile on the road. He will see Minahan standing at 
 the door here, and he will want to know what is the 
 
4o8 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 matter. Devil a step further will his purty grey go 
 with him till the nail is out." 
 
 "Well, well," said Morty, " such doings may seem 
 fair in this accursed country. We were a brave people 
 once, and did not stoop to cowardly tricks, that would 
 suit better with forgers and footpads. Colonel Goring 
 is the worst foe I have ; )'et I would give a finger oft^ 
 my right hand at this moment had no lies been told 
 to bring him here to meet me. On my soul I hate 
 3-0U for what }'ou have done, Sylvester. There is a 
 stain on my honour this day which all the waters of 
 ocean will not wash off. Any way, this shall be the 
 last of such things. This English Colonel and I have 
 our quarrel to fight out, and one or other of us will 
 not leave this place alive. If I fall death clears all, 
 and I charge \'ou both on m}^ curse that he goes free, 
 and )-ou do him no wrong. If I kill him I leave 
 Ireland this day, never to see it more till the time 
 comes, if ever it does come, when I can return with 
 the gallant Brigade. But that time is not yet. If the 
 French broke our chains we'd be none the better for 
 it, the slaves and cowardly traitors that too many of 
 us are still." 
 
 Morty was savage at finding that he could not 
 even fight a personal enemy in his unfortunate 
 country, without being dragged into treachery that he 
 hated the thought of. As little, however, did it occur 
 to him that he ought not to use an opportunit}- 
 which had been dishonestly brought about for him. In 
 the midst of his excitement, his ear was caught by a 
 voice outside in the road. Colonel Goring was before 
 the door of the smithy. His horse was dead lame. 
 The nail in the foot had been driven home, as 
 Sylvester intended, and the poor beast, having limped 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 409 
 
 for a quarter of a mile, had come to a stand at the 
 place where it knew that the hurt could be looked to. 
 
 Minahan was leaning against the post of the outer 
 shed. " Good morning," said the Colonel, " I am 
 lucky at fmding you at home. Your fire will be out, 
 but perhaps there will be no need of it. My horse 
 here is dead lame. I am sorry to ask you to touch 
 work on Sunday. I should not be out myself, but 
 that it is matter of necessity. Look and see what is 
 the matter." 
 
 " Pleased I'll be to serve your honour, any day of 
 the week," said the blacksmith, " and indeed there is 
 Gospel order to take care of the poor animals on the 
 Sunday." 
 
 The Colonel alighted. Minahan lifted and ex- 
 amined the foot. " Begorrah ! " he said, " it is little 
 the lad knew of his work that fitted this shoe on. 
 Shame on the awkward hand of him, he has driven a 
 nail into the quick, and the dumb baste is complain- 
 ing of it in the only way that he can speak. I'll have 
 it out in five minutes, but I'd advise your honour to 
 take the horse no further this da\% for the wound is 
 sore, and maybe he'd be the worse for the journey." 
 
 " I cannot stop," the Colonel said, '' but if ye have 
 a gossoon about, who would run back to the house, 
 and tell the groom to bring me another and take the 
 grey home when you have seen to the hurt, I'd 
 thank you kindly. Meantime it is cold, standing out 
 here. The air is raw this morning. I will step in, 
 and ask how the mistress is." 
 
 "Thanks, your honour," said Minahan. "The 
 mistress is not at home. She is away over the hill ; 
 and I'm thinking," he muttered, dropping his voice, " it 
 might be better if your honour would let the busines 
 
4IO THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOV. 
 
 ye are after just wait over till to-morro^^', and go 
 back to your own house. There are strangers inside, 
 that maybe ye would not be well pleased to see." 
 
 "Strangers?" enquired the Colonel. "What 
 stranger can be here at such an hour as this ? " 
 
 * Indeed, it is more than I know," said the smith. 
 ' There is three of them come in from the sea, any 
 way, to hear mass at the chapel they say. They just 
 asked me to let them rest here till the bell rings, and 
 that is all I can tell you." 
 
 " Not all that you might tell me, if you chose to 
 speak, my good fellow. They will be some of my 
 old acquaintances, come for once on an honest 
 errand. If they had never come on a worse, they 
 and I would not have fallen out together." 
 
 The smith muttered something, which was neither 
 assent nor denial. He had led the horse, while they 
 were speaking, out of earshot of the forge. In a low, 
 but clear and earnest voice, he said, "If ye will take 
 a poor man's counsel, ye will be off at your best 
 speed, and never stop till ye reach your own door. 
 The gossoon shall bring your horse behind ye." 
 
 Fatally mistaking what was intended for a friendly 
 warning, the Colonel conceived that there was some- 
 one in the forge whom the smith wanted to conceal. 
 
 " I may return or not," he said, " but I must first 
 have a word with these strangers of yours. We can 
 meet as friends for once, with nothing to dispute 
 over." 
 
 Minahan made no further attempt to prevent him 
 from going in. If gentlemen chose to have their 
 quarrels, he muttered between his teeth, it was no 
 business of his. 
 
 Goring pushed open the door and entered. By the 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 411 
 
 dim light, for the shutter that had been thrown back 
 had been closed again, and the only light came from 
 a window in the roof, he made out three figures 
 standing together at the further end of the forge, in 
 one of whom, though he tried to conceal himself, he 
 instantly recognized his visitor of the previous evening. 
 
 " You here, my man ? " he said. " You left my house 
 two hours ago. Why are you not on }'Our way 
 home ? " 
 
 Sylvester, seeing he was discovered, turned his face 
 full round, and in a voice quietly insolent, replied, 
 " I fell in with some friends of mine on the road. 
 We had a little business together, and it is good luck 
 that has brought your honour to us while we are 
 talking, for the jintlemen here have a word or two 
 they would like to be saying to ye. Colonel, before ye 
 leave them." 
 
 " To me ! " said Goring, turning from Sylvester to 
 the two figures, whose faces ^^•ere still covered by 
 their cloaks. *' If these gentlemen are what I 
 suppose them to be, I am glad to meet them, and 
 will hear willingly what they may have to say." 
 
 " Perhaps less willingly than you think, Colonel 
 Goring," said the taller of the two, who rose and 
 stepped behind him to the door, which he closed and 
 barred. Goring, looking at him with some surprise, 
 saw that he was the person whom he had met on the 
 mountains, and had afterwards seen at the funeral at 
 Derreen. The third man rose from a bench on 
 which he had been leaning, lifted his cap, and said, 
 " There is an old proverb, sir, that short accounts 
 make long friends. There can be no friendship 
 between you and me, but the account between us is 
 of very old standing. I have returned to Ireland, 
 
412 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 only for a short stay ; I am about to leave it, never 
 to come back. A gentleman and a soldier, like your- 
 self, cannot wish that I should go while that account 
 is still unsettled. Our fortunate meeting here this 
 morning provides us with an opportunity." 
 
 It was Morty's voice that he heard, and Morty's 
 face that he saw as he became accustomed to the 
 gloom. He looked again at the pretended messenger 
 from the carded curate, and he then remembered the 
 old Sylvester who had brought the note from Lord 
 Fitzmaurice to the agent from Kenmare. In an 
 instant the meaning of the whole situation flashed 
 across him. It was no casual re-encounter. He had 
 been enticed into the place where he found himself 
 with some sinister, and perhaps deadly, purpose. A 
 strange fatality had forced him again and again 
 into collision with the man of whose ancestral lands 
 he had come into possession. Once more, by a 
 deliberate and treacherous contrivance, he and the 
 Chief of the O'Sullivans had been brought face to 
 face together, and he was alone, without a friend 
 Vv'ithin call of him, unless his tenant, who as he could 
 now see had intended to give him warning, would 
 interfere further in his defence. And of this he knew 
 Ireland well enough to be aware that there was little 
 hope. 
 
 He supposed that they intended to murder him. 
 The door, at which he involuntarily glanced, was 
 fastened by this time with iron bolts. He was a man 
 of great personal strength and activity, but in such a 
 situation neither would be likely to avail him. Long 
 inured to danger, and ready at all moments to meet 
 whatever peril might threaten him, he calmly faced 
 his adversary and said : 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 413 
 
 " This meeting is not accidental, as you would have 
 me believe. You have contrived it. Explain your- 
 self further." 
 
 " Colonel Goring," said Morty Sullivan, " you will 
 recall the circumstances under which ^ve last parted. 
 Enemy as you are and al\\ays have been to me and 
 mine, I will do you the justice co say that on that 
 occasion you behaved like a gentleman and a man 
 of courage. But our quarrel was not fought out. 
 Persons present interfered between us. We are now 
 alone, and can complete what was then left un- 
 finished." 
 
 "Whether I did well or ill, sir," the Colonel 
 answered, " in giving you the satisfaction which you 
 demanded of me at the time you speak of, I will not 
 now say. But I tell you that the only relations which 
 can exist between us at present, are those between a 
 magistrate and a criminal who has forfeited his life. 
 If you mean to murder me, you can do it ; you have 
 me at advantage. You can thus add one more to 
 the list of villainies with which you have stained an 
 honourable name. If you mean that I owe you a 
 reparation for personal injuries, such as the customs of 
 Ireland allow one gentleman to require from another, 
 this, as you well know, is not the way to ask for it. 
 But I acknowledge no such right. When I last en- 
 countered you I but partly knew you. I now know 
 you altogether. You have been a Pirate on the High 
 Seas. Your letters cJf marque do not cover you, for 
 you are a subject of the King, and have broken your 
 allegiance. Such as you are, you stand outside the 
 pale of honourable men, and I should degrade the 
 uniform I wear if I were to stoop to measure arms 
 with you." 
 
414 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 The sallow olive of Morty's cheek turned livid. He 
 clutched the bench before him, till the muscles of his 
 hands stood out like knots of rope. 
 
 " You are in my power, Colonel," he said, " do not 
 tempt me too far. If my sins have been many, my 
 wrongs are more. It must be this or worse. One 
 word from me and you are a dead man." 
 
 He laid four pistols on the smith's tool chest. 
 " Take a pair of them," he said. " They are loaded 
 alike. Take which you please. Let us stand on the 
 opposite sides of this hovel, and so make an end. If 
 I fall, I swear on my soul you shall have no hurt from 
 any of my people. My friend Connell is an officer of 
 mine, but he holds a commission besides in the Irish 
 Brigade. There is no better-born gentleman in 
 Kerry. His presence here is your sufficient security. 
 You shall return to Dunboy as safe from harm as if 
 you had the Viceroy's body-guard about you, or your 
 own boat's crew that shot down my poor fellows at 
 Glengariff. To this I pledge you my honour." 
 
 " Your honour ! " said Goring. " Your honour ! 
 And you tempted me here by a lying tale, sent by 
 the lips of yonder skulking rascal. That alone, sir, 
 were there nothing else, would have sufficed to show 
 what you are." 
 
 A significant click caught the ear of both the 
 speakers. Looking round, they saw Sylvester had 
 cocked a pistol. 
 
 " Drop that," said Morty, " or -by God ! kinsman of 
 mine though you be, I will drive a bullet through the 
 brain of you. Enough of this, sir," he said, turn- 
 ing to Goring. " Time passes, and this scene must 
 end. I would have arranged it otherwise, but 
 you yourself know that by this way alone I could 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 415 
 
 have brought you to the meeting. Take the pistols I 
 say, or by the bones of my ancestors that lie buried 
 under Dunboy Castle yonder, I will call in my men 
 from outside, and they shall strip you bare, and score 
 such marks on you as the quarter-master leaves on 
 the slaves that you hire to fight your battles. Prince 
 Charles will laugh when I tell him in Paris how I 
 served one at least of the hounds that chased him at 
 Culloden." 
 
 The forge in which this scene was going on was 
 perfectly familiar to Goring, for he had himself 
 designed it and built it. There was the ordinary 
 broad, open front to the road, constructed of timber, 
 which was completely shut. The rest of the building 
 was of stone, and in the wall at the back there was 
 a small door leading into a field, and thence into the 
 country. Could this door be opened there was a 
 chance, though but a faint one, of escape. A bar lay 
 across, but of no great thickness. The staple into 
 which it ran was slight. A vigorous blow might 
 shatter both. 
 
 Sylvester caught the direction of Gorings eye, 
 caught its meaning, and threw himself in the way. 
 The Colonel snatched a heavy hammer which stood 
 ap-ainst the wall. With the suddenness of an electric 
 flash he struck Sylvester on the shoulder, broke his 
 collar-bone, and hurled him back senseless, doubled 
 over the anvil. A second stroke catching the bar 
 in the middle, shattered it in two, and the door hung 
 upon the latch. Morty and Connell, neither of 
 whom had intended foul play, hesitated, and in 
 another moment Goring would have been free and 
 away. Connell, recovering himself, sprang forward 
 and closed with him. The Colonel, who had been 
 
4i6 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 the most accomplished wrestler of his regiment, 
 whirled him round, flung him with a heavy fall on 
 the floor, and had his hand on the latch, when, half 
 stunned as he was, Connell recovered his feet, drew 
 ?. skene, and rushed at Colonel Goring again. So 
 sudden it all was, so swift the struggle, and so dim 
 the light, that from the other end it was hard to see 
 what was happening. Wrenching the skene out of 
 Connell's hands, and with the hot spirit of battle in 
 him, Colonel Goring was on the point of driving it 
 into his assailant's side. " Shoot, Morty ! shoot, or I 
 am a dead man ! " Connell cried. 
 
 Morty, startled and uncertain what to do, had 
 mechanically snatched up a pistol when Sylvester was 
 struck down. He raised his hand at Connell's cry. 
 It shook from excitement, and, locked together as the 
 two figures were, he was as likely to hit friend as foe. 
 Again Connell called, and Morty fired and missed, 
 and the mark of the bullet is still shown in the wall 
 of the smithy as a sacred reminiscence of a fight for 
 Irish liberty. The second shot went true to its mark. 
 Connell had been beaten down, though unwounded, 
 and Goring's tall form stood out above him in clear 
 view. This time Morty's hand did not fail him. A 
 shiver passed through Goring's limbs. His arms 
 dropped. He staggered back against the door, and 
 the door yielded, and he fell upon the ground outside. 
 But it was not to rise and fly. The ball had struck 
 him clean above the ear, and buried itself in the 
 brain. He was dead. 
 
 Only a few seconds had passed since the first blow 
 was given, before all was over. Fiercely cursing the 
 fate which had made him a murderer, in spite of him- 
 self, Morty flung down the smoking pistol. There 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUXBOY. 417 
 
 was no time to lose, for the people passing to church 
 had discovered the boatmen behind the rock, and 
 some others, drawn by the noise, had gathered before 
 the smithy. His crew, in spite of his orders, found 
 their way in. " Take up that carrion," he said, spurn- 
 ing Sylvester's body with his foot, as if he could fling 
 off the burden of his crime on the miserable wretch ; 
 " take him up and carry him to the boat." As the 
 wounded man showed signs of life, they rolled him in 
 a cloak and bore him carefully to the waterside. 
 Morty Sullivan and Connell strode behind, no one 
 darijig to interfere with them, and in a few minutes 
 the galley had shot out across the harbour and dis- 
 appeared behind the point of the island. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVni. 
 
 The murder of a revenue officer in Ireland was, like 
 a duel, of so ordinary occurrence that in the common 
 course of events it would have attracted small atten- 
 tion. Colonel Goring's predecessor had been shot by 
 the smugglers. That he should be shot himself was 
 no more than might have been expected. But men 
 of exceptionally high character, though inconvenient 
 to deal with when alive, are regretted ostentatiously 
 when they are gone. Society feels that it has 
 neglected them, and quiets its conscience by the loud- 
 ness of its regrets. 
 
 In the counties of Cork and Kerry, and even 
 within the sacred precincts of Dublin Castle, the 
 assassination of Colonel Goring, alm.ost at his own 
 door and among his own people, created a sense of 
 shame strong enough to last even for a few hours, and 
 
 ^7 
 
41 8 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 an alarm which lasted as many days. The circum- 
 stances of the murder were, in a high degree, sensa- 
 tional. The blacksmith, Minahan, to clear himself of 
 complicity, told all that he could. He knew Sylvester 
 O'Sullivan, and had been told by him that two gentle- 
 men would be coming in from the water on the 
 Sunday morning. Sylvester had said that their object 
 was to hear mass, but he had suspected that they 
 had some other purpose. He described their arrival. 
 From fragments of their conversation which he over- 
 heard, he had gathered that they had ill intentions 
 against the Colonel, whom, on his coming up, he had 
 endeavoured to put on his guard, but without effect. 
 Through a crack in the boardings he had heard and 
 seen all that afterwards happened. He related 
 the words which had passed between Goring and 
 Morty, the courage which Goring had shown, and 
 the gallant fight which he had made for his life. 
 The story was published in the Court Gazette, in all 
 its details, and called out a burst of penitent anger 
 which was almost genuine, and compelled the Govern- 
 ment to exert itself The gentry of the county 
 called meetings and passed resolutions. They had 
 hesitated at first, being unwilling, for reasons of their 
 own, that there should be too curious an enquiry 
 into smuggling transactions. But they recovered 
 courage when it was ascertained that Morty had 
 escaped to France, and was not expected to re-appear 
 in Ireland. The murder was represented as uncon- 
 nected with the contraband business, and as having 
 arisen out of a personal feud. They were, therefore, 
 able to denounce it with unanimity, and to exert 
 themselves in prosecuting an investigation which 
 could lead to no more than was already known. They 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 419 
 
 even signed a patriotic remonstrance against the 
 supineness of the executive Government, in conse- 
 quence of which Morty was again proclaimed an out- 
 law, and a reward was again offered for his capture 
 dead or alive. The Garland frigate came up from 
 Kinsale to the Kenmare River, as far as the entrance 
 of Bally Ouoilach, and came away again after this 
 bold display of energy. Had she gone round when 
 the first rumours were heard of Morty's presence, she 
 would probably have taken him. Having delayed for 
 three weeks, she was less completely successful. She 
 sailed up to his empty nest, looked, and returned to 
 her anchorage. There was an odd influence in the 
 Castle executive, which paralysed all attempts at deal- 
 ing with popular delinquents as long as their efforts 
 had a chance of being successful. They could only 
 afford to be active when they knew the criminal to be 
 beyond their reach. In the present instance there was 
 a sense of relief, unavowed, but most real, that an un- 
 necessarily zealous public servant had been put out of 
 the way. Morty Sullivan was gone from Ireland, and 
 there need be no more anxiety about him or his con- 
 spiracies. Thus relieved of the necessity of doing 
 anything, since they supposed there was nothing to be 
 done, the authorities had only to be profuse with com- 
 pliments to the merits of their murdered officer, with 
 regrets that he had been lost to his country, and with 
 polite condolences to his family. In this part of their 
 duty they were honourably energetic, and they dis- 
 played agreeably the interest felt by the British ruJers 
 of Ireland in the fortunes of their servants. The 
 Secretary in Dublin wrote a despatch to the Secretary 
 of State in London. The Secretary of State in London 
 replied with courtesy and dignity. The highest person 
 
 
420 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 in the realm sent a gracious message to Mrs. Goring 
 to soften the poignancy of her loss. It was rumoured 
 indeed that Pitt, when he heard of it all, let fall a few 
 bitter sentences, that certain lofty personages might 
 be promoted to a yet higher, if less pleasant, elevation 
 with advantage to the commonwealth. But Pitt was 
 busy founding Indian Empires, and wresting America 
 from the French, and had no leisure for the poor 
 Island, the very name of which English statesmen 
 could not hear without disgust. 
 
 Thus, after a decent demonstration, the nine days' 
 wonder was over, and the waters of oblivion closed 
 over the the last victim of official incompetence. 
 Colonel Goring had been killed at the beginning of 
 March. By the end of the month Press and Govern- 
 ment had delivered their funeral eulogies, and com- 
 pleted their easy and ineffectual efforts to punish the 
 crime. Life went back into its ordinary channels, and 
 as the excess of insincere laudation provoked a recoil, 
 before April was half over the Colonel had again 
 come to be spoken of as an unwise person, who had 
 been too busy, and had wished to be better than his 
 neighbours, who did not understand Ireland, and had 
 brought his fate upon himself. 
 
 So it went with the rulers in high places, and the 
 general county society. Colonel Goring's personal 
 friends, his brother officers who had not forgotten him 
 in his Irish exile, his relations and his immediate 
 family, were unable to bear what had befallen him 
 with equal indifference. No serious attempt had been 
 made to discover the accomplices in the crime. It 
 was assumed that they had fled, and even Eyris has 
 been left unvisited. They complained, though they 
 complained ineffectually, that the authorities had wil- 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. ^ 421 
 
 fully evaded an enquiry which might lead to awkward 
 revelations. Fitzherbert had been left sole executor ; 
 his cousin's fortune was ample, and had been improved, 
 notwithstanding his profuse generosity, by the success 
 which had attended his enterprises in the years during 
 which he had been able to pursue them. Since the 
 Catholic population had turned against him, he had 
 been himself the only link which had held his colony 
 together. He had provided in his will to send them 
 all home if they wished it. After his death, Ireland 
 and all to do with it, became hateful to them, and 
 they hastened to begone. The cottages were deserted, 
 the mine shafts closed, the wheels broken, the boats 
 gathered together and burnt upon the strand, and 
 before the Spring grass had begun to turn green, and 
 the latest primrose had ceased to blow among the 
 ruins of Dunboy, the Protestant settlement which had 
 promised at one time to mature into a community 
 that might have changed the history of the South- 
 western counties, was left to the winds and the rain. 
 
 As long as there was anything to be done, Fitzher- 
 bert controlled his own feelings. He had anticipated 
 always how his cousin's enterprise would end. The 
 longer he had watched the working of it, the less 
 hopeful he had been. He understood better than 
 Goring the spirit of the age. He knew that the day 
 had passed for a renovation of the beliefs and enthu- 
 siasms which had rescued the Northern Province. The 
 settlement of Ulster had been the work of Protestant 
 conviction, at a time when Protestant conviction was 
 a faith for which men would live and die. The Scotch 
 and English immigrants had gone into it with the 
 spirit of Crusaders. A Protestant Government had 
 stayed up the sapling till it had grown into a tree, 
 
422 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOV. 
 
 which could not be overthrown. In Goring's people 
 there had been the same piety, the same earnestness, 
 the same energy ; but instead of support from those 
 in power, they had met only with hostility, and 
 those among them who had seen clearest had 
 judged rightly, that the favour of God was not with 
 them. 
 
 But the more he felt that the Colonel's success was 
 impossible, the more he admired the simplicity and 
 the devotion of his kinsman's personal character, the 
 more indignant he was at the practical negligence 
 with which the murder had been passed over. The 
 widow, as soon as she had recovered sufficiently from 
 the shock to be able to move, he conducted to 
 England, and left her there with her own friends. 
 The business of the administration obliged him to 
 return immediately, and detained him in Cork. 
 General Vavasour was still busy there with the forti- 
 fications of Spike Island. The Governor being absent 
 on protracted leave, Vavasour was in command 
 of the forces, and in him Fitzherbert found a 
 sympathiser who could share his wrath at the wilful 
 indifference which could leave the noblest and best 
 man in the country to be sacrificed with absolute im- 
 punity. Vavasour had studied Goring's character 
 more carefully than he seemed to have done during 
 his stay at Dunbo}^ The more he saw, the more, 
 like Fitzherbert, he admired. His first coldness 
 about the survey of the island was due to no fault of 
 his, and in his report, which was as warm as he could 
 make it, he had dwelt on the importance of the 
 harbour, and on the impropriety, he almost went so 
 far as to say the criminality, of leaving such a man to 
 be destroyed, as without support he probably would be. 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 423 
 
 " Consider too," he said, " what Goring might have 
 done, if he could have held his ground, for Irish 
 history, surrounded as he was by the most curious 
 relics of antiquity. He was not learned, but he had 
 a good eye for fact. He was more right than you or 
 I in the explanation which he gave of the Danish 
 fort. He showed his sense, too, in his readiness to 
 listen to what I could tell him. It is really dreadful 
 to me to think of such opportunities thrown away. 
 Like enough, he might have found on his own 
 property the key to the Round Towers. Yes, yes ; 
 he was a splendid fellow ! And I cannot yet feel 
 certain that we have heard the last of the story. 
 The villain that shot him will soon be at his old 
 tricks again. Elliot came in wnth the y^olus last 
 night. He would not be sorry to have a second 
 chance at him ; and as for me, if I hear of Master 
 Morty on the coast, I shall act on my own judgment, 
 without wasting time in writing to Dublin." 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 If at any time during the week which followed the 
 murder a careful search had been made at Eyris and 
 in the neighbourhood, Sylvester O'Sullivan could not 
 have escaped discovery. Morty's intention had been 
 to sail immediately for France after his meeting with 
 Goring, but Sylvester had been so badly hurt that he 
 could ill bear removing. Morty hated the sight of 
 him, and determined to put him on shore. The 
 lugger returned through the Sound to Bally Ouoilach, 
 Morty sullen and silent, and Connell supporting the 
 wounded wretch who was struggling back to pain and 
 
424 TFIE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 consciousness. It so happened, that if a sufficient 
 force had been sent to Eyris the instant the murder 
 was known, Morty might have been captured himself. 
 He had meant to sail again immediately, but the 
 lugger had touched a rock in coming through the 
 Sound, and had started a plank, and two days' work 
 had to be done upon her before she was fit for sea 
 again. Morty all the time spoke to no one, but. 
 moodily paced the shore. Of Sylvester he enter- 
 tained a kind of horror, as the cause of all that had 
 gone wrong with him, and the miserable old man was 
 stowed away out of his sight in a cabin ^^•here he was 
 least likely to be looked for. It had been Morty's 
 long-settled purpose that his sister and her child 
 should leave Ireland. He was passionately anxious 
 that the last representative of the old house should 
 grow up with more favourable surroundings than the 
 half-savage neighbourhood of the Kenmare River. 
 He thought of carrying them off along with him, but 
 he was in no condition as yet to form plans for the 
 future. He might not linger, for, with all his expe- 
 rience of persons in authority in Ireland, he could not 
 anticipate that the sensation on Colonel Goring's death 
 would pass off in words. This time, he assured himself 
 that both he and Connell would be sharply sought 
 for, and that they must escape at the earliest moment. 
 If they were out of the way, his sister would not be 
 interfered with ; and whether Sylvester was caught 
 or not was a matter of indifference to him. Wretched 
 as he was, too, he had his duties to discharge to the 
 French Government ; and thus the moment that the 
 lugger's wounded plank was refitted, he and Connell 
 sailed for Nantes, where their coming was anxiously 
 looked for. During^ his absence in the West Indies his 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 425 
 
 friend Blake's trade with the old country had been as 
 active as ever, and the reports brought to Blake from 
 his own correspondents as to the state of preparation 
 for a rising in the Southern Provinces had been so 
 much more favourable than the impressions formed 
 by Morty, that in reliance upon them the French 
 were seriously thinking of landing five thousand men 
 at Bantry and marching upon Cork without delay. 
 With the slightest assistance from the people it was 
 thought that such a force w^ould easily overwhelm the 
 British garrison. Cork would fall, the naval stores 
 would be taken, the two frigates in the harbour de- 
 stroyed, and Thurot's squadron, which was ready at 
 Brest, would be able effectually to follow up the blow. 
 The French Government was only waiting for Morty's 
 return. His opinion, if favourable, was to be decisive. 
 Thus, day after day, Mr. Blake paced his terrace, im- 
 patiently sweeping the horizon with his spy-glass. 
 Other vessels came in from the Irish coast. Why 
 w^as Morty delaying so long ? At length the brown 
 sails of the lugger were seen slowly drawing up 
 the river ; slowly, for the tide was falling and the 
 breeze was light. She crawled along at a snail's 
 pace. When she brought up at last, her crew were 
 so long in lowering the boat that Walsh ordered 
 his own in his impatience that he might go off and 
 see what was the matter. The lugger's boat, how- 
 ever, put off at last, with O'Sullivan and Connell in 
 the stern sheets, and he hurried to the stairs to meet 
 them. Morty, when it came alongside, rose languidly 
 and, with his arm on Connell's shoulders, came feebly 
 up the steps. He barely touched his cap to Blake, 
 and, when he reached the terrace, stood looking round 
 him with weary indifference. 
 
426 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 " The Lord be praised for your safe arrival," said 
 Blake. " We thought some ill had come by ye, you 
 were so long on the way. Welcome, anyway. But 
 ye look as I never saw ye ! Are ye ill, man, or what 
 is it ? " 
 
 " My friend Blake," said Morty, " I brought you back 
 your ship from the West Indies, and you will not say 
 but I did my duty to you and your house while she 
 was under my command. There she floats, sound 
 and watertight, for all the shot the English guns sent 
 through the bottom of her ! Your lugger, too — no 
 hurt has come to her. You have her there as you 
 trusted her to me. And now I must tell you I am 
 tired of this work, and I will have no more of it ! " 
 
 " I'll not believe that," answered Blake. " You 
 have brought back yourself, and ship and lugger 
 might have gone to the bottom for aught I should 
 have cared, sooner than anything but good should 
 have come to you. But what word do you bring? 
 They are waiting for you at Paris. Each day brings 
 me a post to ask if you are returned. Tired of the 
 work ? Why, if things have gone wrong, you and I 
 are not to be cast down because the dice are cross for 
 a throw or two. But what is it ? Let us hear what has 
 befallen ye that ye look like Father O'Brine's ghost 
 when he came back to tell the Bishop that he was 
 kept in purgatory for want of being rightly absolved." 
 
 " The only absolution which would be of use to me," 
 growled Morty, " would be a bullet through the brain 
 of me, and that relief I shall go and look for in my 
 old service. We will part friends, Blake, but part we 
 must. I'll be with the Austrians in Bohemia before 
 the world is many weeks older. Fool that I was to 
 leave them." 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 427 
 
 " Don't be questioning Morty just now, while the fit 
 is on him," said Connell, pulling Blake aside. " He 
 had a misfortune before he came away. No great 
 matter to my mind, but he rages when he thinks of it 
 as if the divil was inside him." 
 
 " If there is bad luck in the world there is good 
 luck along with it," said Blake. " There was a sloop 
 came in last night from Crookhaven that brought 
 word that the revenue officer at Dunboy had got his 
 death ; he that was at Culloden and that Morty had 
 the quarrel with. That is no misfortune, anyway, the 
 ill-mannered villain that he was." 
 
 " Hist ! " whispered Connell, " he'll hear ye ; that 
 is the very thing. 'Twas Morty killed him, and me 
 standing by when it was done. Morty wanted the 
 Colonel to fight him and the Colonel wouldn't, and 
 gave him bad words instead. There was a bit of a 
 struggle then. Old Sylvester, that you'll find, got a 
 rap with a hammer from the Colonel, that nearly put 
 the life out of him, and knives were drawn, and 
 Morty's temper got up and he shot the Colonel 
 through the head, and he has been cursing himself 
 ever since for having done it." 
 
 '' And what ailed the cowardly rascal," said 
 Blake, " that he would not fight a gentleman who 
 was condescending to provide him with an oppor- 
 tunity ? " 
 
 " Cowardly Colonel Goring was not," said Morty, 
 who caught the words and understood to what they 
 referred. " Cowardly he was not, and rascal he was 
 not. I'll do him. that justice though he crossed me at 
 so many turns. God knows I prayed him to take the 
 pistols and defend himself, and you can witness your- 
 self, Connell, he knew how to use them. My hand 
 
428 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BO Y. 
 
 fired the shot that killed him ; my hand did it ; but 
 not I. I would give the best blood in my body that 
 he was alive among us at this moment." 
 
 " Indeed then," said Conncll, " 'twas well for me that 
 your hand was readier than yourself. The skene would 
 have found a sheath in my heart else, and as to his 
 being alive again, it is my opinion that he is better 
 where he is." 
 
 '' I can ill understand ye both," said Blake, " or 
 what it is that has happened at all ; but from what ye 
 say, Mr. Connell, there was the Sylvester creature half 
 murdered, and yourself, but that Morty there came to 
 your help, was murdered entirely. What would that 
 be but a fair fight, and w^hat is the use of crying w^hen 
 a drop of blood has been spilt, specially the blood of 
 thim divils of Saxons? Why, you are a soldier, Morty 
 Oge, and killing is your trade. The Colonel ye speak 
 of was the worst enemy ye had. I have heard ye say 
 so a dozen times. Well, ye have put him out of the 
 way and are well rid of him, and Irish trade is well 
 rid of him, and there is an end. Have ye turned 
 woman that }^e are so chicken-hearted ? " 
 
 " i\ye, chicken-hearted," said Morty bitterly, "or 
 it maybe it's a hypocrite ye are thinking me. And 
 what am I to think of myself? When I came here to 
 you three years back I had been in many a battle. 
 Fighting was my trade, as you say, but it was at the 
 side of honourable men, and in an honourable cause. 
 I had been named in despatches ; I had won fame ; I 
 had promotion and rank within reach of me. I could 
 carry my head as proudly as the best of them. No 
 action could be charged against Morty Sullivan that 
 he need blush to hear of, and you, Blake, made me 
 a pirate, an associate of ruffians whose trade was 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 429 
 
 plunder. Had I been taken I should have swung on 
 the gallows, and now, because I have added another 
 crime to the list, you are astonished that I give a 
 second thought to it." 
 
 " Morty Oge," said Blake, " what is done is done, 
 and to whine over what cannot be recalled is weak 
 and womanish. I called the man a rascal. Whether 
 he was a rascal or not, in the world's sense, I neither 
 know nor care, but he was an Englishman, and be- 
 tween England and Ireland there runs a river of blood 
 which will cease to flow only when the accursed 
 English flag no longer waves on Irish soil. Between 
 us and them there is no peace, and can be none, nor 
 obligations of honour in our dealings with them. We 
 cannot fight them in the field unless other nations 
 help us, but we have never yielded and never will 
 yield ; we will fight on \\\\\\ such weapons as we can 
 use, and with such a foe all means are fair. In this 
 war your Saxon Colonel has fallen one of the victims, 
 worse or better, brave or co\\'ard — who cares? Not I, 
 for one. Do you fancy your own ancestors, whom 
 Carew drove from their homes, will think the worse of 
 you because, on the very spot, you have laid low the 
 representative of the spoiler ? The black mare of the 
 lake has marked ye with her hoof, man. You are not 
 yourself. I tell ye we have \\ox\^ for ye to do as 
 honourable as your own scruples can desire, if scru- 
 pulous ye have grown on the sudden. A messenger 
 from Versailles is at this moment in the house to 
 speak with you." 
 
 " You may gloss it over as you will with your wars 
 between the races," answered Morty, " and war there 
 is and ever will be till one or other of them is out of 
 that island. But the quarrel between that man and 
 
430 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 me was our own. He was a soldier, as I am, and a 
 brave one. It is ended. He is dead ; gone out of 
 the world beyond my reach, and the balance is with 
 him and not with me. If he had not been an English- 
 man I would say I envied him, and would rather have 
 fallen as he fell, than live as I must live. But the 
 past, as you say, is the past. I am as true an Irish- 
 man as you are, and I love my miserable country as 
 well as you can love it. On a fair field and by fair 
 means I would fight the English while I could hold 
 sword or level cannon ; but as to your methods, 
 neither to fight nor to yield, to have the form of peace, 
 but to recognise no duty rising out of it, to plot and 
 to murder and to burn, to put on a lying appearance 
 of submission, to fawn and flatter with hatred in the 
 heart, for that is what your method means ; I will 
 have none of it. The infernal stream which under- 
 runs the surface of Irish life, drags every one along, 
 the best and the worst, as it has dragged me, 
 and ill fall the day that ever you tempted me 
 to return there. For this messenger I can but say 
 what I say to you. I saw the leaders of the Army 
 of Insurrection, as they call it. They said what you 
 say. They were not an army. They could not fight. 
 But they could make the country ungovernable and 
 keep an English army occupied in watching them. 
 They pretended that if the French \\-ere once on land 
 among them they would then rise. I don't believe it, 
 and this messenger shall so report from me. If Louis 
 trusts their promises, they will treat him as they have 
 treated everyone who has been weak enough to depend 
 on them. They will sit still and leave him to fight his 
 own battle. That is my opinion of my countrymen. 
 They prefer the methods to which they have been 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 431 
 
 accustomed. If the French choose to encourage them 
 on these terms, it is their own affair. For myseh" I 
 have a good record with the Austrians. The war 
 with Prussia has broken out again, and there will be 
 employment enough. In that service even an Irish- 
 man can earn an honourable name, or, if the luck be 
 with him," he added sadly, " an honourable end." 
 
 " It cannot be," Blake said. " France cannot spare 
 you, and your country cannot spare you. They trust 
 you in Paris as they trust none else, and your own 
 people trust you, all the more since ye cleared your 
 home of the Saxon. Thurot is ready at Brest, and to 
 Ireland he is to go. Whether North or South is un- 
 decided, but surely to one or the other. It is not your- 
 self that will be failing at such a time," 
 
 '* The old story," Morty replied. '' The French are 
 coming, and the Saxons are to be hurled out, and 
 Ireland is to be free at last. One of two things always 
 happens. Either the French do not come after all, and 
 our poor fools in the expectation of them murder a 
 landlord or two, and burn their houses, and then, when 
 no help appears, betray one another, and a few score are 
 hanged ; or else they do come, but in too small force 
 to do the work alone, and nobody joins them, and 
 they are lucky if they get out undestroyed. No in- 
 vading army can be landed in Ireland in strength 
 sufficient to drive the English out, unless the people 
 rise at their side, and the people have not the heart for 
 it. They never had. They never will. Nothing can 
 come of this present project but fresh wretchedness. 
 I at least will have no concern with it." 
 
 " You will find the French are in earnest this time, 
 Morty. You will see they are ; and they will make 
 it worth your while to lend them your hand. They 
 
432 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 mean to fight for India and America at England's own 
 back door." 
 
 " And if they do," said Morty, " what will that come 
 to ? Suppose Thurot takes Cork and keeps it ; suppose 
 he takes Dublin too, for that matter,' do you think his 
 master would find Ireland such a precious acquisi- 
 tion that he would stay and take care of it ? The 
 French will hold what they can get as a pawn in the 
 game, and when peace is made they will go out again 
 and leave us to the English hangman." 
 
 Nothing that Blake could say, nothing that the 
 trained emissary of the ministry at Versailles could 
 say, availed to shake Motty's resolution. He persisted 
 that, however sincere the present purpose of the 
 French Government might be, however immediately 
 successful the intended Irish expedition might be, 
 Ireland would be sacrificed when the time came to 
 purchase better terms for Dupleix and Montcalm. 
 But he was confident also, he said, that the expedition 
 could not be successful, and he refused to encourage 
 idle hopes. Appeals to his ambition, to his interest, 
 to his pride and patriotism, were equally vain. Even 
 a flattering autograph from Louis himself was not 
 more successful. He did not give way to despon- 
 dency. If he could not pardon himself for Goring's 
 death, yet as time passed on and he could think 
 coolly, his conduct did not seem to him of so dark a 
 kind that it need spoil and embitter his remaining 
 existence. He had not designed any foul play. He 
 had not allowed Sylvester's treachery. Goring's 
 scornful words, which had blistered his skin like 
 drops of melted metal, were not entirely deserved. 
 There had been a fight — even to himself he could hardly 
 say a fair one, but still a fight — and he had fired only to 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 433 
 
 save his friend's life. His remorse was deep, but he 
 could hope that it need not be eternal. The recollection 
 of the scene, however, rendered everything connected 
 wnth Ireland hateful to him. Had he not been sincerely 
 convinced that a French invasion would end in 
 nothing, he might have conquered his unwillingness. 
 But he knew that no nation could ever achieve a 
 liberty that would not be a curse to it, except by arms 
 in the field, and this his countrymen declared that 
 they would not and could not venture. Warm letters 
 meanwhile reached him from the court of the Empress, 
 where he was assured of a hearty welcome, and thither 
 he made arrangements to go at the earliest oppor- 
 tunity. 
 
 On one point only he yielded. When he went over 
 to communicate with the patriot leaders, he had been 
 entrusted with negociations for the landing and distri- 
 bution of fresh arms, and with important business 
 arrangements for Blake's firm. In the haste in which he 
 had come away he had left his work unfinished ; and no 
 one else could be found to take it up without his 
 assistance on the spot. So at least the matter was 
 represented to him by Blake, who insisted that he 
 ou":ht not to desert him in a matter of serious conse- 
 quence. Morty, vv'ho was sensitive on a point of 
 honour, felt the force of the argument, and another 
 motive came in at the same time to increase the 
 strength of it. He had sent word to his sister to 
 come over and join him with her boy. She, to whom 
 Goring's death had brought only joy and triumph, 
 could think only of her country's approaching deliver- 
 ance. She refused to go to him, and she reproached 
 him with the desertion of the cause. Obstinate and 
 violent as he had experienced her to be, he believed 
 
 28 
 
434 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BO V. 
 
 that he could persuade her if he cauld be In person on 
 the spot to bring her away. The hue and cry aftc 
 himself had died away. The darkest criminal in 
 Ireland, if he could evade capture for a week or two, 
 was in little danger afterwards. One wild story put 
 out the recollection of another, and at the end of six 
 weeks he felt that with moderate precautions he 
 could venture back for a few days without danger. 
 
 With these objects, and with no companion save 
 the faithful Connell, who had attended him in all his 
 adventures, Morty Sullivan sailed in the disguise of a 
 common seaman in a Valentia hooker, and at the 
 end of April he was again at Eyris under his own 
 roof. To his surprise and disgust, the first person 
 who came smiling to welcome him, was his kinsman, 
 Sylvester. Having recovered from his wound, Sylvester 
 had established himself there as Ellen Mahony's guest, 
 and as he was known to have been at the murder, 
 and had been named in the proclamation, his presence 
 in the house was compromising her safety as well as 
 his own. Already Morty had come to look at him 
 with feelings for which detestation would bs too mild 
 a word. He spoke savagely and bitterly to him, and 
 spurned him away. He bade him leave Eyris in- 
 stantly and hide himself where he could among the 
 mountains. He believed that he had done with him 
 for ever. He had yet to learn that the dog-like affec- 
 tion of the follower for his chief turns to fury if it is 
 scorned and rejected. The depth of treachery to 
 which Irish revenge could descend, was a discovery 
 which he had yet to make. 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 435 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 GORING'S affairs had been left in good order. His 
 dispositions were simple. His widow was removed 
 to England. The Dunboy settlers had been taken 
 home. Only a few legal details remained to be 
 arranged with the Colonel's solicitor in Cork ; Fitz- 
 herbert could then wind up his duties as executor, 
 and a curious and interesting chapter in his own life 
 would be brought to a close. Up to the time when 
 he first became intimate with his cousin, he had 
 been content to be a looker on at the farce which was 
 called the English administration of Ireland. Too 
 proud to take a part in it, and too indolent to exert 
 himself in swimming against the stream, he had 
 watched Viceroy succeed Viceroy, and folly succeed 
 folly, seeing clearly all the time that the Protestant 
 gentry were living on a volcano, and that below the thin 
 surface crust there flowed a stream of subterranean 
 lava. Unexpectedly, in a corner of the country 
 where the skin was thinnest, and the hot springs were 
 actually bubbling through, he had found a kinsman of 
 his own fighting like a man, single-handed, against 
 the dangerous elements around him. He had seen 
 him neglected, thwarted, obstructed, at last destroyed 
 by an outburst of the. infernal fire, and, after a few 
 days of insincere regret, already forgotten by the 
 authorities, his murder unavenged, and even the 
 obligation to punish it forgotten. 
 
 During the last few days of his stay at Cork, he 
 was the guest of his friend General Vavasour at 
 
 28* 
 
4-,6 THE TWO CHIEFS OF TUN BOY. 
 
 Government House, and long and anxious conversa- 
 tions went on between them on Ireland's condition- 
 past, present, and prospective. Vavasour insisted 
 that the faults of the Irish rose from the supercilious 
 scorn with which England had treated them. He 
 discovered in the neglected race the elements of graces 
 and talents which the English themselves were with- 
 out ; and he insisted eloquently on the intellectual 
 achievements of their ancestors, among whom the 
 lamp of learning and poetry burnt clear like the 
 evening star, when the rest of Europe was in darkness^ 
 
 Fitzherbert, with less concern in these speculations 
 and with imperfect belief in the soundness of them, 
 was provoked to see an officer in high position and of 
 high abilities wandering after theories which, even if 
 true, had no bearing on present problems. He liked 
 Vavasour too well to contradict him, and he knew 
 the uselessness of it. " I believe ! I believe ! " he 
 cried, at the end of a fresh demonstration that the 
 Round Towers had been built by the Fire- worshippers. 
 " Not a word more I beseech you ; but how are we 
 the better for knowing that two thousand years ago 
 our forefathers raised Temples to the Devil ? " 
 
 If, as often happened, Fitzherbert alluded to the 
 tragedy at Dunboy, Vavasour would dismount fr m 
 his hobby on the instant. " Forgive me, my dear 
 friend," he would say, " None feels it more bitterly 
 than I do. I suppose I did not exert myself as much 
 as I ought. He was too good for us. He was a 
 Christian hero, and the modern world is not made 
 for Christian heroes. Their existence is a reproach to 
 the rest of us. They come to a rude end, and \\e 
 breathe more freely when they are gone." 
 
 At the end of one of these conversations, which had 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 437 
 
 been more than usually discursive, Vavasour took a 
 soiled note out of a portfolio. " You talk of the state 
 of the country, Fitzherbert," he said. " If I may 
 believe the anonymous communications which are 
 dropped here every day, my Celtic sympathies will not 
 protect even myself One morning I found a paper 
 pinned on my dressing table with a coffin on it, and my 
 name duly inscribed. Yesterday, the post brought me 
 a letter, which told me that my tim.e was up, and my 
 soul was to be consigned to the ' Sulphurous Flames 
 of Puriphlegethon.' What desperately long words the 
 rascals use ! Here is another which I got to-day, 
 rather different. Probably it is a trap to tempt 
 me into a place where they can put a knife into me, 
 but I don't know. Look it through, and see if any- 
 thing strikes you." 
 
 In a large round, and evidently disguised hand- 
 writing, were these words : 
 
 " If your honour will give an assurance for my life, 
 and will consider the service which I am willing to do 
 for my country, I will put ye on the track of one 
 that ye will be pleased to have holt on. I will take 
 your promise if ye will give it, and will ask no more 
 till ye have him in hand. If ye will walk this night 
 alone at eleven o'clock on the Ould Quay, I'll see ye 
 there and speak with ye. 
 
 " From One wpio was at the Blacksmiiti's 
 Forge." 
 
 Fitzherbert read and read again. " Some villainy 
 of course," he said. It may be an informer who 
 wishes to sell a comrade, or perhaps, as you suggest, 
 it may be a design on yourself The point is in the 
 
438 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 last words. He seems to think you will understand 
 them." 
 
 " My first impression," Vavasour said, " was to give 
 the letter to the Head Constable, and set him to 
 catch the fellow. But ten to one he would find it 
 out and wouldn't show. And besides if we did take 
 him, we should get nothing out of him. You will 
 observe that it \\'as at a Blacksmith's shop that your 
 cousin was killed." 
 
 " I did observe it, and I suppose that is the allusion. 
 But who can the one be ? The murderers are out of 
 the countr}', and will take care how they shew them- 
 selves again just yet. Do you think of doing any- 
 thing ? " 
 
 Vavasour was as fond of adventures as the Caliph 
 of Bagdad. " Well," he said, " I thought of slipping 
 on a cloak and strolling down at the time the man 
 names, just to see whether there is anything in it. It 
 is but a mile or so, and I can note what is going on 
 in the town at those late hours." 
 
 " The Ould Quay is no place for you, Vavasour. 
 The lanes opening on it are the nests of all the 
 crimps and blackguards in the town. You are a 
 public person, and have no right to expose }'ourself. 
 Let me go ? " 
 
 Vavasour objected that the letter had been sent to 
 him, and that the man would speak to no one else. 
 It was quite possible, however, that foul play was 
 intended ; and for the Governor of the Town to 
 be attacked at such a spot, would lead to questions 
 how he came to be there, which could not be 
 satisfactorily answered. Fitzherbert was a stranger. 
 No one would recognize him, no one could have any 
 object in doing him hurt. Vavasour, to whom the 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 439 
 
 excitement ot the thing had been the chief tempta- 
 tion, gave way at last, and consented that Fitzherbert 
 should go. 
 
 It was now the first week of May. The days were 
 lengthening. The sun did not set till after seven. 
 By ten, however, little light would be left, and this 
 particular evening promised to be unusually dark. An 
 easterly wind had brought in a fog from the sea which 
 shut out the sky, rested on the roofs of the houses, 
 and spread over the city. The oil lamps at the street 
 corners could not be seen at more than a few feet off. 
 Decent people had closed their doors for the night 
 and gone to rest. The streets themselves were de- 
 serted, and the only sounds which broke the stillness 
 were the voices of the watchmen calling the hours or 
 the cries of sailors on the river hauling ropes or heav- 
 ing at a capstan. 
 
 Fitzherbert made his way with some difficulty 
 through the lumber with which the wharves were 
 littered. The few figures that he encountered avoided 
 him as he avoided them. The lamps as he advanced 
 along the embankment failed altogether. A few lines 
 only of shimmering light came from ships anchored in 
 the tide-way, by the help of which could be seen 
 buoys floating on the water, or boats at their moorings. 
 From the narrow alleys leading to the harbour were 
 heard occasional sounds of revelry or of voices high in 
 quarrel ; but as he approached the appointed spot 
 not a moving form was to be seen anywhere, and he 
 passed on, shuddering in spite of himself at the thought 
 of the evil things which might be going on close at 
 his hand 
 
 More than once he was tempted to turn back. He 
 was well aware that no good will was borne to 
 
440 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 Vavasour by the lawless population of the lower 
 town. The probability was that the letter really was a 
 snare, and if so he might find a dagger in him at any 
 moment that had been designed for the acting Go- 
 vernor. But he reflected that he v/as taller than 
 Vavasour by a head, and could not be mistaken for 
 him. He had undertaken to penetrate the mystery, 
 and it would be cowardly to flinch. He w^ent for- 
 ward, and as the city clock tolled eleven he was at 
 the spot which the letter had indicated, it was a 
 remnant of the old town, now deserted by everyone who 
 cared for a decent reputation, the haunt of smugglers, 
 thieves and prostitutes, an ugly place, suggestive of 
 evil deeds. He found no one, and to appearance was 
 entirely alone. He could see nothing save the outline 
 of gables and chimneys against the fog. A hundred 
 ruffians, however, might be skulking under the walls, 
 and he kept near the water side, that he might spring 
 in and swim for it if he was attacked. For some 
 minutes he strolled to and fro on the edge of the 
 jetty, neither hearing nor seeing anything. But some- 
 one must have seen him, for suddenly he became 
 conscious of a figure directly in front of him which 
 might have risen out of the pavement. That it was a 
 man he could distinguish, but nothing besides. 
 
 " You walk late," said a voice, " and it is a dark 
 night for exercise, scarce a darker I ever saw. May 
 be you have business, that you are here at such an 
 hour." 
 
 " I might say the same to yourself," answered Fitz- 
 herbert ; " but if I have business I do not speak of it 
 to a stranger." 
 
 " You are a gentleman by the speech of you ; but 
 you are not the gentleman I w^as looking for. You are 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOV. 44i 
 
 taller like. Take advice from one who wishes you no 
 ill and choose some other ground for your strolling. 
 Here is no place for the like of yourself if you are an 
 honest man. Be off out of this." 
 
 " The Quay is open to me as to you," said Fitz- 
 herbert, '' and where I please to walk depends on no 
 one but myself. I, too, expected to meet some one 
 here, honest or dishonest I know not, and for all I can 
 tell you may be the man, if you come from the black- 
 smith's shop." 
 
 The fellow hesitated, took a step backwards, and 
 seemed inclined to slip away. " You shall not leave • 
 me either," Fitzherbert said, seizing him by the arm, 
 " till I know whether you are he or not." 
 
 " Hands off! " said the man, lowering his voice to a 
 whisper. '' Hands off, I tell ye ; or by the Lord, with 
 one call on this whistle I'll bring them on ye that will 
 lay ye on the harbour's bottom with as little thought as 
 if ye were a bag of ballast. Who are ye, and what 
 do ye mean by the words ye spake just now? " 
 
 '' If you are the person I suppose you to be,'" re- 
 plied Fitzherbert, "you have something to communi- 
 cate of consequence to the State. I come to hear it." 
 
 " Speak lower, man, if ye would leave this without a 
 knife in the body of you. Who are ye, I say ? I 
 looked for another." 
 
 " He you looked for does not walk about the quays 
 of Cork at midnight to meet strangers who pretend 
 they have secrets for him. It is enough that I am 
 here in his place. I have seen your letter. I come to 
 learn what you have to say." 
 
 " I asked ye who ye were, and ye have not tould 
 me. D'ye think I'd be speaking the word that might 
 be a rope to hang me if it fell into the wrong ears ? 
 
442 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 Unless you are plain with me, begorra I'll set them on 
 ye that will have the mask off your face, whoever ye 
 are." 
 
 Fitzherbcrt hesitated. A disturbance might bring 
 the watch, and he did not want the world to know 
 that he met ruffians at night in the purlieus of Cork. 
 But he had the right man before him. He was sure 
 of that. And he would learn nothing unless he could 
 satisfy the fellow that the secret might be safely con- 
 fided to him. 
 
 " I am the friend of him to whom you wrote," he 
 said. " I am to engage for him that what you may 
 tell shall be no hurt to yourself, and that if you tell 
 truth you shall have a reward. You will believe 
 me the better when I inform you that I know what 
 you meant about the Blacksmith's place. I am Vne 
 near kinsman to him that was killed there." 
 
 " Hist, hist ! " whispered the man. " The stones can 
 hear in these quarters. I know all about ye now. 
 Ye'll be — but we'll speak no names, neither yours nor 
 mine. If I tould ye that, ye'd be wanting me for the 
 witness-box ; and how many days do ye think I'd be 
 living in this world if it was known I had helped to 
 hang him that you think is beyond the seas. Ye will 
 understand my meaning. I'll not tell ye who I am, 
 but I can teach ye where ye may have him if ye will ; 
 for I tell ye I've sworn revenge upon him, and I'll 
 have it. I risked my life for him, and I risked my 
 soul for him. My soul I'll lose any way, for devil a 
 priest in Ireland will give me his pardon for what I'm 
 doing now ; but I'll ha\-e my revenge, I say. After 
 all I done for him, and me of his own blood ! He 
 drove me from his roof, he spurned me with his foot. 
 He swore I'd brought a curse on him, and that shall 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 443 
 
 be true for him any way. Will ye give me your 
 promise ? We don't like you half-bred Englishmen, but 
 we can trust ye to keep your word. Will ye under- 
 take on your honour that if I put ye in the way to 
 capture him we speak of, ye will give me twice the 
 published reward at such time and place as I'll tell 
 ye of?" 
 
 " That is fair enough," said Fitzherbert. " Unless 
 we take him the bargain is off. If we do take him 
 you shall have what you ask. If we don't know you 
 we can't send for you as a witness, and you can keep 
 your own counsel. Yes, I engage for that." 
 
 " Well, then," the man hissed in his ear. " Ye think 
 he is away in France. I tell ye he has come back, 
 and is at this day in the ould place at Eyris." 
 
 " That cannot be," said Fitzherbert. " The coast 
 has been watched. If brig, barque, or sloop had 
 crossed from Nantes in the last six weeks, it could not 
 have escaped." 
 
 " You will need sharper eyes," said the man, " than 
 belong to your sea captains to see all vessels that pass 
 between the French coast and ours. He slipped 
 through where you would never think in a fishing 
 boat of the Widow Crosbie's at Port Magee. He 
 has been in Eyris for a week. He will stay 
 another week, and then if ye miss your chance he will 
 be gone. He has none with him but Connell and the 
 boys of the place. If ye will send a company of red- 
 coats over the hill at Dunboy in the dark, and let 
 a cutter go round and stop the mouth of his hole, you 
 may trap him like a wolf Ye will do it if ye are the 
 men I take ye for. And now God speed ye. It 
 would be ill for us both to be found talking together." 
 
 As he spoke he was gone, disappearing, as silently 
 
444 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 as he had come, into some smugglers' den. With 
 difficulty, and with occasional anxious glances over 
 his shoulder as the echo of his own feet made him 
 fear that he was followed, Fitzherbert made his way 
 back to the Castle and reported his intei-view to the 
 General. The circumstances under which the informa- 
 tion had been given were sensationally impressive ; 
 but whether it could or could not be depended on 
 was hard to decide. Informers were a detestable 
 race, but it was through their help only that the 
 English rulers could ever arrive at the knowledge 
 which was of greatest moment to them. If anything 
 was to be done, it must be done immediately, or the 
 nest would be found empty. General Vavasour could 
 not send a frigate off the station without reference to 
 the Admiral at Kinsale. Before he could despatch a 
 military expedition, his proper duty would be to refer 
 first to Dublin Castle. A week at least would be 
 wasted before he would receive an answer, and the 
 answer when it came would probably be dilatory or 
 negative ; while, owing to the secret undercurrents 
 in the working of the Irish administration, it was 
 likely that private warnings would be sent to Eyris 
 before active steps were sanctioned. 
 
 Vavasour was not afi-aid of responsibilities. A 
 rising easterly wind was blowing fair along the coast. 
 Morty Sullivan was proclaimed, and loyal subjects 
 had been called on to capture him anywhere and by 
 any means. Irregular measures might thus be ven- 
 tured on. Two regiments stationed in the town were 
 under Vavasour's immediate command, and although 
 he had no authority over the King's ships in the river, 
 he had a Revenue Cutter, well armed and manned, 
 which had been commissioned for his personal use. 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 445 
 
 There was a sloop besides in the harbour, which had 
 been hired by Fitzherbert to transport Colonel Gor- 
 ing's furniture and books from Dunboy to England. 
 She had made one trip, and had returned, and was 
 waiting further directions with all hands on board. 
 
 Orders were sent to both cutter and sloop to be 
 ready to sail at dawn, and a note was despatched to 
 the barracks for a company of men with a couple of 
 officers, whom Vavasour named, that were wanted for 
 special service. 
 
 They were divided between the two vessels. Fitz- 
 herbert went in his own as a volunteer, and nothing was 
 to be said of their destination till they were outside the 
 lighthouse, and communication with the town was cut 
 off. Thus it was that by noon on the following day, 
 twelve hours after Fitzherbert had parted from his 
 nameless informant, a hundred men were being carried 
 up the coast with a fair wind between Kinsale and 
 Galley Head. The instruction had been to select 
 only English, and it had been observed so far as it 
 was possible in the haste. It turned out that among 
 them all there was one Irishman, and he, unluckily for 
 himself, a Sullivan, from the very district for which 
 they were bound. Fitzherbert was to act as guide. 
 The intention was to keep the sea till nightfall, and not 
 to approach Bantry Bay till daylight was gone. Cap- 
 tain N , the officer in command, had been told 
 
 merely that he was sent to arrest a notorious smuggler, 
 and that when the troops were landed he was to follow 
 Fitzherbert's directions. 
 
 The weather was wild. The wind blew hard all 
 day, with heavy rain and mist, which covered the 
 vessels from inquisitive eyes on shore. They made a 
 rapid passage, and before sunset they were off Crook- 
 
446 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOV. 
 
 haven. No flight of predatory rooks on a new- 
 sown corn field, are more swift to take alarm than 
 the Irish of the coast at the sight of a British cruiser. 
 On the least suspicion, warnings would be signalled 
 from headland to headland, and, thick as it was, the. 
 sloop and cutter separated at the Fastnet, and stood off 
 to sea as if they were on a fishing cruise. At dusk, 
 when ten miles from land, they drew together again, 
 and made in for the Bay. At midnight the soldiers 
 -were put on shore in the Colonel's boat-harbour in front 
 of his now desolate house. The Protestant commu- 
 nity had departed, not a single straggler of them being 
 left. The cottages were empty, the Catholic Irish 
 having, as yet, avoided the neighbourhood. Thus 
 shore and village were utterly solitary, not even a dog 
 remaining to give notice of the approach of strangers. 
 The sloop brought up at her usual anchorage, that, if 
 by accident anyone caught sight of her, it might be 
 supposed that she had returned for a second cargo of 
 the Colonel's property. The cutter bore away round 
 Dursey and the Bull Rock, with orders to haul her 
 wind when she had passed the point, and bear up for 
 the entrance of Bally Ouoilach. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 Wilder and wilder grew the night. The wind 
 howled among the cliffs, and tore to pieces the flowers 
 which were blooming as if nothing had happened in 
 the Colonel's desolate garden. The rain fell in 
 slanting streams, making pools about the beach and 
 turning lane and track into brown rivulets. Fitz- 
 herbert, to whom every object was mournfully 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 447 
 
 familiar, led the party by an unfrequented path to the 
 west, which had been the short cut from Dunboy to 
 the mines. Skirting the deserted cottages of the 
 colony, they ascended the hill-side, without having 
 been seen or heard. The single sign of life was a 
 light burning in the back window of Goring's house, 
 where an old servant still kept guard on the remnants 
 of his property. After marching cautiously for half- 
 a mile they came out upon the regular track which 
 led over the mountain gap to Eyris, and those among 
 them who knew the country, understood now that it was 
 to Eyris that they were going. It has been mentioned 
 that by accident there was an Irish private in the de- 
 tachment. With ready instinct he saw that his own 
 people were the object of the expedition. He bolted at 
 a turn of the road, and dodged among the rocks. But 
 he missed his footing in the dark, he was caught and 
 handcuffed to a comrade, and the column passed on. 
 As they came up into the gap, the tempest increased 
 in fury. They had been in partial shelter as they 
 ascended. On the level brow, the wind had blown 
 the peat stacks flat ; the sheep had huddled away 
 among the bog pits ; the raindrops pelted like hail. 
 The very elements had conspired to ensure the 
 completeness of the surprise. With the wind behind 
 them, the soldiers moved the quicker ; on such a 
 night no human creature v\'ould be stirring abroad ; 
 and as they descended into the valley, and had to 
 pass an occasional cabin, they were still unnoticed. 
 Even the curs were lying in-doors for shelter, and let 
 them go by unheard. Had eye seen them, or ear 
 caught the sound of the military tramp, the warning cry 
 Vvould have rung from house to house, a hundred 
 lads would have started like hares from their forms, 
 
448 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 and have sped over the moss-hags to give the alarm. 
 But all eyes were closed in sleep, and all ears were 
 closed by the storm. 
 
 Thus unobserved they went on. Dawn was 
 beginning to break as they approached their desti- 
 nation ; and the low lines of Morty's dwelling could 
 be just discerned in the growing light, when a shot 
 was fired from the middle of their ranks, which might 
 have disconcerted all their precautions. The hand- 
 cuffed Sullivan, careless of himself, and desperate at 
 the thought of what might be coming, had contrived, 
 in spite of his irons, to grasp and fire his comrade's 
 musket. He was shot himself afterwards, for his in- 
 effectual treason. His heroism had been thrown away. 
 A gust of wind tore the sound to pieces, and 
 scattered it in the war of the elements. 
 
 In the house at Eyris too, the inmates were all 
 sleeping at last ; but two of them had watched late, 
 and had gone to rest only with the approach of day- 
 light. Under the roof were some twenty of the 
 river smugglers, who remained on guard there while 
 Morty was in the country. These, and the faithful 
 Connell along with them, had been slumbering the 
 night through in their hamm.ocks, or stretched on 
 straw in the garrets, amidst spars, and casks, and 
 rope coils. The boy, the heir of Morty's name and 
 of his hereditary rights, lay gathered in his cot, 
 dreaming of what he would do when he was a man. 
 Morty was engaged preparatory for his departure, in 
 making up the accounts of various contraband trans- 
 actions which he had undertaken for Blake before 
 his flight to the West Indies. They were complicated 
 by the secrecy with which the business had been 
 carried on. Besides his ledgers he had piles of 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 449 
 
 letters, some of which he had been burning, while 
 he made notes from others, that he might leave ever>'- 
 thing in proper order. Ellen Mahony had been 
 watching out the hours at his side over her spinning- 
 wheel, and crooning out old Irish songs, saddest 
 sweetest and most hopeless of human melodies. 
 
 " There," Morty said, pushing his books from him 
 at last, and leaning back in his carved oak chair : 
 '*' There stand the names of more than a score of the 
 gentry who now rule in these two counties. God 
 knows whether our own ancestors were any better, 
 but worse they could hardly be. Cromwell's Iron- 
 sides were, at least, men. Bigots and heretics though 
 they were, they lived for a cause ; they believed in 
 what they called their God. We were ten to each 
 one of them, and they beat us down in fair fight. 
 But these who came in their places ? Why, I have 
 actually letters here from some of them, hinting how 
 good a job they would think it if Goring was put out 
 of the way, for spoiling the trade. Aye, aye ! It is 
 well for us that Goring has not left his like behind 
 him." ' 
 
 " And for what will ye be for ever thinking of that 
 man, Morty ? " said his sister. " He was an ill friend 
 to me, and a worse to the mother that bore us both. 
 He is gone now. The Lord forgive him his sins. I 
 will wish him that grace, at any rate, though he little 
 deserves it at my hand. Ye are tired, Morty, and 
 worn out. To bed with ye, and sleep. Sure the 
 morning light is coming through the curtains. Hark, 
 how the wind roars. It is an awful night. The Lord 
 be gracious to us ! What is that ? " 
 
 She had risen to look out. At that moment some- 
 thing fluttered past the window which, to her strained 
 
 2Q 
 
4SO THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 senses, was like a draped woman's figure. It paused. 
 and seemed to look at her ; a long arm stretched 
 out from under the cloak, and a skinny finger pointed 
 into the room. The apparition lasted for half-a- 
 dozen seconds, and then melted off, with a wailing 
 cry, like a note struck by a passing gust from the 
 strings of an ^olian harp. 
 
 The form might have been a phantom of imagina- 
 tion — but the sound disturbed a wolf-hound on the 
 hearth, who raised his head and answered with a 
 half-uttered howl. " Oh God ! " Ellen Mahony said. 
 " It is the Banshee. She came the night our mother 
 died — and now she comes again. One of us in this 
 room will never see another sunrise." 
 
 Morty shuddered, in spite of himself The dog 
 sank back and turned uneasily over, as if he had been 
 dreaming in his sleep. " Tush, Ellen," he said. " It 
 is but the moaning of the gale, and the sheets of 
 rain gleaming in the half-light of dawn. You, too, are 
 w^orn and weary, and fancy is playing pranks with 
 you. We should both be asleep. These tricks of 
 the mind are potent with tired spirits, and our Irish 
 natures feel them more than most. We will to bed 
 now. A few more days, and our native soil will know 
 us no more. The past is gone, a new life will begin 
 for us in happier lands, and that boy of yours shall 
 have a better fortune than his father." 
 
 He rose and joined his sister at the window. The 
 rain was rushing down in torrents. The swollen river 
 was roaring along its channel beyond the garden in 
 a yellow flood, and was brimming over the banks. 
 Some sound caught Morty's ear. He started, and 
 listened. " That was strangely like a musket-shot," 
 he said. " But, ah, no ! We are the fools of our 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUX BOY. 451 
 
 fears to-night. Some boulder was started from 
 its bed by the river. It is time we were in ours. 
 Good-night, dear Ellen. You have had a hard life 
 in this land, and I am glad that you have agreed to 
 leave it. The future shall make amends for all." 
 
 Morty's ears had been truer than his judgment. 
 What he had heard was the shot fired by his poor 
 clansman, who had forfeited his life to save him. 
 But the hound did not move again ; and there were 
 no further sounds but the raving of the storm and the 
 noise of the water. Sleep had closed the eyes of 
 Ellen Mahony. Morty had flung himself wearily on 
 his bed and was sinking into unconsciousness, when 
 he was roused again by the fierce barking of a dozen 
 dogs who were chained in the yard. 
 
 To spring to his feet, seize a blunderbuss and rush 
 to the door, was the work of a moment. Through a 
 slit in the wall he saw^ that the house was surrounded. 
 Yielding to his first impulse, he fired, but fired wildly, 
 and the shot took no effect. It was otherwise with 
 the fire from the windows. His men, roused, like 
 himself, by the dogs, had bounded up, snatched their 
 carbines, and poured out a destructive volley. One of 
 the soldiers was killed, three were wounded. Cap- 
 tain N sheltered his party among the rocks and 
 
 walls, where they could be less easily hit, and so 
 disposed them as to make escape f-om the house 
 impossible. His orders were to take Morty alive, and 
 he summoned him to surrender. 
 
 To resist, seemed a wanton sacrifice of life. The 
 house, being thatched, could be easily set on fire. No 
 relief could be looked for from outside ; and, if he 
 
 defied Captain N , and forced him to storm the 
 
 place, Morty knew that his poor followers would 
 
452 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 never desert him, and would all be killed at his side. 
 He had his sister to think for also, and the child ; and 
 local legend says, that, seeing the case was hopeless, 
 he was un\\'illing to fire any more on the English 
 soldiers — " He was too proud to shoot the shilling-a- 
 day men." Probably he would not have been too 
 proud to shoot them, every one, if he could have 
 escaped by doing it ; but he ordered the firing 
 from the windows to cease, he demanded a parley, 
 and requested the English officer to take charge 
 
 of his sister, with the boy. To this Captain N , 
 
 of course, consented ; and Ellen Mahony desperate, 
 but helpless, and almost unconscious, was passed out, 
 with the child in her arms. 
 
 Morty then bade his men shift ^or themselves, 
 and eighteen of them started singly from various 
 bolting holes to make for the sea or the mountains. 
 They were all caught, and each of them hsd 
 perhaps a dozen crimes to answer for. But the 
 object of the expedition was to capture those who 
 had been concerned in the murder at Dunboy, and 
 the rest, who were found not to belong to them, were 
 let go. 
 
 Inside the house there were now five left. Morty 
 himself, Connell, and three more who had been in the 
 boat at Dunboy with them. If they allowed them- 
 selves to be taken alive, they had nothing before them 
 but an ignominious execution. If they could reach 
 the flooded river, it would either drown them or take 
 them down to the sea, where there would still be hope. 
 
 Again they were required to surrender, and 
 they returned no answer. The doors and windows 
 were too strong to be forced by ordinary implements. 
 There was no spare powder to make bursting charges- 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 453 
 
 And thus to Fitzherbert s regret, for he was anxious 
 that Morty's papers should not be injured, it was 
 determined to set the house on fire. 
 
 Even this was found less easy than was looked for. 
 The thatch was soaked with the night's rain, and 
 would not kindle. Some one quicker than the rest 
 tore off the damp layer of the outside straw, and 
 thrust in balls of wild fire. Then the flames caught 
 the dry rafters. The lofts were, as if laid for con^ 
 flagration, full of tarred hemp, and spars, and brandy 
 barrels, and when these were once alight, the whole 
 house was in a blaze, the roof fell in, and through 
 the sparks and eddying smoke wreaths, Morty 
 Sullivan and his four companions made a last rush 
 for life. Two were shot down within the walls, and 
 were consumed in the fire. Connell, and " little John 
 Sullivan," who had been the coxswain of the boat 
 which had brought Morty to Dunboy on the fatal 
 Sunday morning, were seized and pinioned. Morty 
 himself bounded over the flames into the garden ; at 
 the end of it was a clump of elder bushes, and 
 beyond the elders there was a steep pitch down into 
 the river. Could he reach the water alive , there was 
 still a chance for him. 
 
 But he never reached it. A dozen muskets rattled 
 out as he sprang through the branches. He fell dead, 
 shot through the heart. 
 
 The house was so full of combustible materials, 
 that although the rain helped to extinguish the fire, 
 some hours had to pass before the ruins could be 
 searched. It was supposed that there were powder 
 barrels on the premises, and there was a fear of ex- 
 plosion. At last it was considered safe to examine 
 the place. Nine-tenths of it had been completely 
 
454 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. 
 
 gutted. The hall or sitting room, however, being walled 
 with stone and roofed with solid beams of oak, had 
 almost escaped injury. The bills and ledgers were 
 found in an iron chest as Morty had left them. Of 
 the correspondence much had been destroyed by him- 
 self ; but enough remained of so compromising im- 
 port that the details of it were never revealed. Those 
 who were on the spot and saw it, averred that more 
 than one considerable person was proved to have 
 advised that Goring should be removed. But 
 Vavasour was well read, and remembered how Csesar 
 had disposed of Pompey's papers after Pharsalia. 
 No merchant's accounts were ever kept more accu- 
 rately than the entries of Morty's dealings on be- 
 half of his Nantes employers. But these were not 
 matters on which the Government would care to be 
 informed. Perhaps if Morty himself had escaped he 
 might not have been too curiously enquired after. 
 But he had gone beyond the tolerated limits. Be- 
 sides his smuggling offences and his Scotch adventure 
 he had fluttered the dove-cotes in the West Indies. 
 The blood of an English officer who had been a truer 
 friend to Ireland than any Sullivan who had ever 
 reigned from Glanarought to Iveragh was red upcn 
 his hand. By the law of England, by the law of all 
 civilised nations, he had fallen as a felon, and as a 
 felon only could he be regarded. The cutter had 
 come round into the bay, and the body was given in 
 charge to the crew to be carried to Cork. They 
 lashed a rope round the neck and shoulders and made 
 it fast behind the cutter's stern, and in this ignominious 
 fashion they towed behind them all that w^as left of 
 Morty through the waters of which he had been 
 the glory and the terror. At Cork, when they 
 
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 455 
 
 arrived there, the trunk was quartered and the sea- 
 washed head was set on the castle battlements, His 
 comrades who were taken when he was killed had a 
 short shrift, and the bloody drama was ended. 
 
 Colonel Goring belonged to an order of men who, if 
 they had been allowed fair play, would have made the 
 sorrows of Ireland the memory of an evil dream ; but 
 he had come too late, the spirit of the Crom- 
 wellians had died out of the land, and was not to be 
 revived by a single enthusiast. Morty Sullivan slew 
 him, and when slain in turn met his just reward. 
 Yet, when the actions of men are measured in the 
 eternal scale, and the sins of those who had under- 
 taken to rule Ireland and had not ruled it are seen in 
 the full blossom of their consequences, the guilt of 
 Morty, the guilt of many another desperate patriot in 
 that ill-fated country, may be found to bear most heavily 
 on those English statesmen whose reckless negligence 
 was the true cause of their crimes. 
 
 Connell, on the night before he was h:mself exe- 
 cuted, wrote in Irish a last tribute to the friend whom 
 he had so faithfully followed. The inflation of style 
 may be more apparent than real, and may be due to 
 the contemporary translator. Even if the language is 
 faithfully rendered it will not be harshly judged. 
 
 " Morty, my dear and loved master, you carried the 
 sway for strength and generosity. It is my endless 
 grief and sorrow — sorrow that admits no comfort — 
 that your fair head should be gazed at as a show upon 
 a pike and that your noble frame is without life. I have 
 travelled with you in foreign lands. You moved with 
 kings in the Royal Prince's army. The great God is 
 good and merciful. I ask His pardon and support, 
 for I am to be hanged to-morrow without doubt. The 
 
456 
 
 THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY. 
 
 rope will squeeze my neck, and thousands will lament 
 my fate. May the Lord have mercy on my master ! 
 It is for his sake I am now in their power. Kerry- 
 onians pray for us ! Sweet and melodious is your 
 voice. My blessing I give you ; but you will never 
 see me again among you alive. Our heads will be 
 on a pike for a show under the cold snow of night and 
 the burning sun of summer. Oh, that ever I was 
 born ! Oh that ever I returned to Berehaven ! Mine 
 was the best of masters that Ireland could produce. 
 May our souls be floating to-morrow in the rays of 
 endless glory." * 
 
 * See Gibson's " History of Cork, 
 
 52. 
 
AY USE 
 
 OM WHICH BORROWED 
 
 N DEPT. 
 
 lis book is due on the last date stamped below, 
 or on the date to which renewed. Renewab only: 
 
 Tel. No. 642-3405 
 Renewab may be made 4 days i>rior to date due. 
 Renewed books are subjea to immediate recall. 
 
 SEf/TOMm 
 
 ;973 9 9 
 
 ^EPOoloi 
 
 c». H« 8'ie 
 
 O - C.DCRKELfcV 
 
 NOV 1 1 2000 
 
 T T^o1 A or>^ Q "7Q General Library 
 
^^ 
 
 Af?^'2- 
 
 

 ;x::?^ 
 
 4iL 
 
 V 
 
 Mi 
 
 . JK^''^.,^xrir„. 'K-~i;;!i^,y^.Ti''t!l'^>.^ _