Part 56 (2/2)

”In the first place, then, such is your daughter's high and exquisite sense of integrity and honor that, if I consented to the terms you propose, she would reject me with indignation and scorn, as she ought to do. There, then, is your project for accomplis.h.i.+ng my selfish and dishonest apostacy given to the winds. Your daughter, sir, is too pure in all her moral feelings, and too n.o.ble-minded, to take to her arms a renegade husband--a renegade, too, not from conviction, but from selfish and mercenary purposes.”

”Confound the thing, this is but splitting hairs, Reilly, and talking big for effect. Speak, however, for yourself; as for Helen, I know very well that, in spite of your heroics and her's, she'd be devilish glad you'd become a Protestant and marry her.”

”I am sorry to say, sir, that you don't know your own daughter; but as for me, Mr. Folliard, if one word of your's, or of her's, could place me on the British throne, I would not abandon my religion. Under no circ.u.mstances would I abandon it; but least of all, now that it is so barbarously persecuted by its enemies. This, sir, is my final determination.”

”But do you know the alternative?”

”No, sir, nor do you.”

”Don't I, faith? Why, the alternative is simply this--either marriage or hanging!”

”Be it so; in that case I will die like a man of honor and a true Christian and Catholic, as I hope I am.”

”As a true fool, Reilly--as a true fool. I took this step privately, out of respect for your character. See how many of your creed become Protestants for the sake of mere property; think how many of them join our Church for the purpose of ousting their own fathers and relatives from their estates; and what is it all, on their parts, but the consequence of an enlightened judgment that shows them the errors of their old creed, and the truth of ours? I think, Reilly, you are loose about the brains.”

”That may be, sir, but you will never find me loose about my principles.”

”Are you aware, sir, that Helen is to appear against you as an evidence?”

”No, sir, I am not, neither do I believe it. But now, sir, I beg you to terminate this useless and unpleasant interview. I can look into my own conscience with satisfaction, and am prepared for the worst. If the scaffold is to be my fate, I cannot but remember that many a n.o.ble spirit has closed the cares of an unhappy life upon it. I wish you good-day, Mr. Folliard.”

”By the Boyne! you are the most obstinate blockhead that ever lived; but I've done; I did all in my power to save you--yet to no purpose. Upon my soul, I'll come to your execution.”

”And if you do, you will see me die like a man and a gentleman; may I humbly add, like a Christian!”

The squire, on his way home, kept up a long, low whistle, broken only by occasional soliloquies, in which Reilly's want of common-sense, and neglect not only of his temporal interests, but of his life itself, were the prevailing sentiments. He regretted his want of success, which he imputed altogether to Reilly's obstinacy, instead of his integrity, firmness, and honor.

This train of reflection threw him into one of those capricious fits of resentment so peculiar to his unsteady temper, and as he went along he kept las.h.i.+ng himself up into a red heat of indignation and vengeance against that unfortunate gentleman. After dinner that day he felt somewhat puzzled as to whether he ought to communicate to his daughter the result of his interview with Reilly or not. Upon consideration, however, he deemed it more prudent to avoid the subject altogether, for he felt apprehensive that, however she might approve of her lover's conduct, the knowledge of his fate, which depended on it, would only plunge her into deeper distress. The evening consequently pa.s.sed without any allusion to the subject, unless a peculiar tendency to melody, on his part, might be taken to mean something; to this we might add short abrupt e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns unconsciously uttered--such as--”Whew, whew, whew--o--whew--o--hang the fellow! Whew, whew--o--whew--he's a cursed goose, but an obstinate--whew, whew--o--whew--o. Ay, but no matter--well--whew, whew--o, whew, whew! Helen, a cup of tea. Now, Helen, do you know a discovery I have made--but how could you? No, you don't, of course; but listen and pay attention to me, because it deeply affects myself.”

The poor girl, apprehensive that he was about to divulge some painful secret, became pale and a good deal agitated; she gave him a long, inquiring look, but said nothing.

”Yes, Helen, and the discovery is this: I find from experience that tea and Burgundy--or, indeed, tea and any kind of wine--don't agree with my const.i.tution: curse the fel--whew, whew, whew, whew--o--whew; no, the confounded mixture turns my stomach into nothing more nor less than a bag of aquafortis--if he had but common--whew--”

”Well, but, papa, why do you take tea, then?”

”Because I'm an old fool, Helen; and if I am, there are some young ones besides; but it can't be helped now--whew, whew--it was done for the best.”

In this manner he went on for a considerable time, e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.n.g. mysteries and enigmas, until he finished the second bottle, after which he went to bed.

It may be necessary to state here that, notwithstanding the incredible force and tenderness of his affection for his daughter, he had, ever since her elopement with Reilly, kept her under the strictest surveillance, and in the greatest seclusion--that is to say, as the proverb has it, ”he locked the stable door when the steed was stolen;”

or if he did not realize the aphorism, he came very near it.

Time, however, pa.s.ses, and the a.s.sizes were at hand, a fearful Avatar of judicial power to the guilty. The struggle between the parties who were interested in the fate of Whitecraft, and those who felt the extent of his unparalleled guilt, and the necessity not merely of making him an example but of punis.h.i.+ng him for his enormous crimes, was dreadful. The infatuation of political rancor on one side, an infatuation which could perceive nothing but the virtue of high and resolute Protestantism in his conduct, blinded his supporters to the enormity of his conduct, and, as a matter of course, they left no stone unturned to save his life. As we said, however, they were outnumbered; but still they did not despair.

Reilly's friends had been early in the legal market, and succeeded in retaining some of the ablest men at the bar, his leading counsel being the celebrated advocate Fox, who was at that time one of the most distinguished men at the Irish bar. Helen, as the a.s.sizes approached, broke down so completely in her health that it was felt, if she remained in that state, that she would be unable to attend; and although Reilly's trial was first on the list, his opposing counsel succeeded in getting it postponed for a day or two in order that an important witness, then ill, he said, might be able to appear on their part.

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