Part 48 (1/2)

”I quite see that that is out of the question. All I can hope for is, that such of them as recognize my likeness to my father will draw up a paper saying so, and will attest it before a notary, having as witnesses men of weight and honour equal to their own.

The production of such certificates could not but have a strong influence in my favour.”

”I will most willingly sign such a doc.u.ment,” the duke said, ”and four of my best-known generals can sign as witnesses to my signature.”

”I thank you most heartily, sir. Such a doc.u.ment should, in itself, be considered as ample proof of my strong resemblance to my father.”

”That may or may not be,” the duke said, ”but do not be content with that. Get as many of the others as possible to make similar declarations. One man may see a likeness where another does not, but if a dozen men agree in recognizing it, their declarations must have a great weight. Certainly no Irish judge would doubt the testimony of so many men, whose families and whose deeds are so well known to them.”

From Dauphiny, Gerald travelled first into Spain, and the three Irish officers there whose names were on his list all recognized the likeness, even before he told them his name. He put the question to them in a general way.

”I have learned, sir, that the name I bear is not my own, that I am the son of an officer who was killed in the siege of Limerick.

May I ask you if you can recognize any likeness between myself and any officer with whom you were well acquainted there?”

In each case, after a little consideration, they declared that he must be the son of James O'Carroll. All remembered that their comrade's wife had borne a son, shortly before the end of the siege. They remembered her death, but none had heard what became of the child, for in the excitement of the closing scenes, and of the preparation for the march immediately afterwards, they had had little time on their hands, and it was. .h.i.therto supposed that it had, like so many other infants, perished miserably. They willingly signed doc.u.ments, similar to that which he had received from Berwick.

He met with almost equal success on the northern frontier, only two out of eight officers failing to identify him by his likeness; until he mentioned his name, when they, too, acknowledged that, now they recalled James O'Carroll's face, they saw that the likeness was a striking one.

Having obtained these doc.u.ments, he resumed civilian attire, and, riding by crossroads, pa.s.sed through Flanders to Sluys, without coming in contact with any body of the allied troops. There he had no difficulty in obtaining a pa.s.sage to London, and on his arrival called upon Lord G.o.dolphin, who received him cordially.

”So you have utilized your safe conduct, Captain Kennedy. I am glad to see my former captor, and I am as grateful as ever to you for the silence you maintained as to that affair. If it had been known to my enemies, I should never have heard the last of it.

They would have made me such a laughingstock that I could scarcely have retained office.

”Now, what can I do for you?”

”It is a long story, my lord.”

”Then I cannot listen to it now; but if you will sup with me here, at nine o'clock this evening, I shall be glad to hear it. I am so hara.s.sed by the backstair intrigues of my enemies, that it would be a relief to me to have something else to think of.”

Gerald returned at the appointed time. Nothing was said as to his affairs while supper was served, but after the table had been cleared, decanters of port placed on the table, and the servants had retired, G.o.dolphin said:

”Now, Captain Kennedy, let us hear all about it.”

Gerald related the history of his younger days, and of the manner in which he had discovered his real parentage, producing the certificate of his baptism, a statement which had been drawn up at Cork and signed by Norah Rooney, and the testimony of the Duke of Berwick and the other Irish officers.

”There can be no doubt whatever, in the mind of any fair man,”

Lord G.o.dolphin said, after listening attentively to the whole story, and examining the doc.u.ments, ”that your uncle, John O'Carroll, is a villain, and that you have been most unjustly deprived of your rights. I know him by name, and from the reports of our agents in Ireland, as one of the men who turned his coat and changed his religion to save his estates. Those men I heartily despise; while those who gave up all, and went into exile in order, as they believed, there to serve the cause of their rightful sovereign, are men to be admired and respected. Be a.s.sured that justice shall be done you. Of course, you will take action in the courts?”

”I shall first summon him to give up the estate, shall let him know that I have indisputable evidence to prove that I am the son of his elder brother, and shall say that, if he will give up possession peaceably, I will take no further steps in the matter, for the sake of the family name. If he refuses, as I fear is probable, I must then employ a lawyer.”

”Yes, and a good one. I will furnish you with letters to the lord lieutenant, and to Lord Chief Justice c.o.x, strongly recommending you to them, and requesting the latter to appoint one of the law officers of the crown to take up your case. I should say that, when this John O'Carroll sees that you have such powerful friends, he will perceive that it is hopeless for him to struggle in so bad a cause, and will very speedily accept your terms, though methinks it is hard that so great a villain should go unpunished.

”Now, it will be as well that you should have something stronger than the safe conduct that I sent you. I will therefore draw out a doc.u.ment for Her Majesty to sign, granting you a full and free pardon for any offences that you may have committed against her and the realm, and also settling upon you the estates to which you are the rightful heir, in and about the barony of Kilkargan; being influenced in so doing by the great services rendered by you, both to Her Majesty's well-beloved and faithful minister and counsellor, myself, and to her trusty general, the Earl of Galway.

”The queen is not very likely to ask the nature of the service.

Unless it be something that concerns herself, she asks but few questions, and signs readily enough the doc.u.ments laid before her.

If she asks what are the offences for which she grants her pardon, I shall say, when but a boy you were maliciously sent abroad to join the Irish Brigade by your uncle, who wished thus to rid himself of you altogether, and who had foully wronged you by withholding your name, from you and all others. I shall also add that you have distinguished yourself much, and have gained the friends.h.i.+p of her half brother, the Duke of Berwick; and you know that the queen, in her heart of hearts, would rather that her brother, whom you Jacobites call James the Third, should succeed her than the Elector of Hanover, for whom she has no love.”

”I thank you greatly, indeed, my lord. Never was a man so amply rewarded for merely holding his tongue.”