Part 20 (2/2)

Accordingly, he resolved to advance, at all events, as far as he might be able to travel before bed-time, and then resign himself to chance for a night's shelter. One might imagine, indeed, that his position as a wealthy Roman Catholic gentleman, suffering persecution from the tool and scourge of a hostile government, might have calculated upon shelter and secrecy from those belonging to his own creed. And so, indeed, in nineteen cases out of twenty he might; but in what predicament should he find himself if the twentieth proved treacherous? And against this he had no guarantee. That age was peculiarly marked by the foulest personal perfidy, precipitated into action by rapacity, ingrat.i.tude, and the blackest ambition. The son of a Roman Catholic gentleman, for instance, had nothing more to do than change his creed, attach himself to the government, become a spy and informer on his family, and he ousted his own father at once out of his hereditary property--an ungrateful and heinous proceeding, that was too common in the time of which we write.

Then, as to the people themselves, they were, in general, steeped in poverty and ignorance, and this is certainly not surprising when we consider that no man durst educate them. The government rewards, therefore, a.s.sailed them with a double temptation. In the first, the amount of it--taking their poverty into consideration--was calculated to grapple with and overcome their scruples; and in the next, they were certain by their treachery to secure the protection of government for themselves.

Such, exactly, was the state of the country on the night when Reilly found himself a solitary traveller on the road, ignorant of his destiny, and uncertain where or in what quarter he might seek shelter until morning.

He had not gone far when he overtook another traveller, with whom he entered into conversation.

”G.o.d save you, my friend.”

”G.o.d save you kindly, sir,” replied the other; ”was not this an awful night?”

”If you may say so,” returned Reilly unconsciously, and for the moment forgetting himself, ”well may I, my friend.”

Indeed it is probable that Reilly was thrown somewhat off his guard by the accent of his companion, from which he at once inferred that he was a Catholic.

”Why, sir,” replied the man, ”how could it be more awful to you than to any other man?”

”Suppose my house was blown down,” said Reilly, ”and that yours was not, would not that be cause sufficient?”

”_My_ house!” exclaimed the man with a deep sigh; ”but sure you ought to know, sir, that it's not every _man_ has a house.”

”And perhaps I do know it.”

”Wasn't that a terrible act, sir--the burning of Mr. Reilly's house and place?”

”Who is Mr. Reilly?” asked the other.

”A Catholic gintleman, sir, that the soldiers are afther,” replied the man.

”And perhaps it is right that they should be after him. What did he do?

The Catholics are too much in the habit of violating the law, especially their priests, who persist in marrying Protestants and Papists together, although they know it is a hanging matter. If they deliberately put their necks into the noose, who can pity them?”

”It seems they do, then,” replied the man in a subdued voice; ”and what is still more strange, it very often happens that persons of their own creed are somewhat too ready to come down wid a harsh word upon 'em.”

”Well, my friend,” responded Reilly, ”let them not deserve it; let them obey the law.”

”And are _you_, of opinion, sir,” asked the man with a significant emphasis upon the personal p.r.o.noun which we have put in italics; ”are _you_ of opinion, sir, that obedience to the law is _always_ a security to either _person or property?_”

The direct force of the question could not be easily parried, at least by Reilly, to whose circ.u.mstances it applied so powerfully, and he consequently paused for a little to shape his thoughts into the language he wished to adopt; the man, however, proceeded:

”I wonder what Mr. Reilly would say if such a question was put to him?”

”I suppose,” replied Reilly, ”he would say much as I say--that neither innocence nor obedience is always a security under any law or any const.i.tution either.”

His companion made no reply, and they walked on for some time in silence. Such indeed was the precarious state of the country then that, although the stranger, from the opening words of their conversation, suspected his companion to be no other than w.i.l.l.y Reilly himself, yet he hesitated to avow the suspicions he entertained of his ident.i.ty, although he felt anxious to repose the fullest confidence in him; and Reilly, on the other hand, though perfectly aware of the true character of his companion, was influenced in their conversation by a similar feeling. Distrust it could not be termed on either side, but simply the operation of that general caution which was generated by the state of the times, when it was extremely difficult to know the individual on whom you could place dependence. Reilly's generous nature, however, could bear this miserable manoeuvring no longer.

”Come, my friend,” said he, ”we have been beating about the bush with each other to no purpose; although I know not your name, yet I think I do your profession.”

”And I would hold a wager,” replied other, ”that Mr. Reilly, whose house was burned down by a villain this night, is not a thousand miles from me.”

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