Volume I Part 10 (1/2)

Robert, on the first entrance of Sirr's lambs--for such he knew them at once to be, though robed in long gowns--made a rush to the window of the inner room in order to alarm the college, but speedily drew in his head again, for a row of muskets was pointed at him which glinted, pallid, in the light of early dawn.

'Trapped!' he exclaimed, wringing his hands in despair. 'No, not yet!'

Then, perceiving that Sirr and his band, expecting no resistance, were busily engaged gleaning together badge, const.i.tution, and list of treasonable toasts, he stole to the discomfited giant--a hero but a moment since--and whispered rapidly, 'Come! A dash at the door, and we can get downstairs. I'll lead you to the campanile. One ring at the bell, and the college will awake!'

Ca.s.sidy shook himself and appeared to understand. Flinging aside the two men who loosely held him, he b.u.t.ted forward, upsetting table and lights, and in the confusion and darkness all who barred the pa.s.sage.

Swiftly he rolled, rather than ran, down the steep staircase, closely followed by Robert, and sent sprawling in the doorway a fat old person, who yelped piteously for mercy.

'The junior dean!' e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Robert. 'The dastard! Himself to betray our ancient rights! But come--we'll attend to him later--to the campanile, to rouse the college!'

Sirr's lambs, recovering from their surprise, pursued the fugitives; but a little time was gained by their all tumbling in a heap over the unhappy dean, before he had time to scramble out of the way.

'O Lord! O Lord! I'm kilt! Follow them!' he panted; 'the campanile's at the corner of the inner yard. If they ring the bell for a rescue, I'm a dead man, for they'll surely murder me! Oh that I had never mixed in this h.e.l.lish business!'

His lamentations died away in a groan, for Sirr held a pistol to his head, calling the skies to witness that he would shoot him unless he instantly led the way. Never since he was a child did the pursy old gentleman run as fast as he did now. Terror gave wings to his gouty feet, and the invading party reached the campanile to see Ca.s.sidy's burly shoulder force in the door, and Robert Emmett precipitate himself within. It was a race who should first reach the platform.

'Is it the dean that's rooned us?' Ca.s.sidy had been exclaiming. 'By Jabers, then, I'll wring his neck for him before he's much older! Run, jewel, for you know the place, which I don't, while I attend to him.

Here's a string that'll do the job.'

And in a trice he had cut the rope which swung before him as high up as his long arms reached, and was fastening at one end a noose.

'What are you doing?' cried Robert, in dismay, 'the ringing-rope of the great bell!'

'Oh, tear and 'ounds! is it?' murmured the giant, with a blank look, as he dropped it. 'Sure, I tuk it to hang the dean with!'

It was a fatal piece of stupidity, but the mischief was irretrievable.

The rope-end dangled just out of Robert's reach. The men who had been watching in the inner yard closed in, and levelling their muskets, summoned them to surrender quietly. By the time Sirr's party came up with the panting dean the giant was pinioned with the unlucky rope, while Robert was in the grip of two st.u.r.dy soldiers.

So much rowdiness was habitually perpetrated within Trinity--such a succession of practical jokes and madcap tricks--that none were likely to heed the hubbub of this chase. Thomas, who had so sagely recommended prudence half an hour since, stood in bitter reverie among his fellow-prisoners, reproaching himself mournfully for his blindness; wondering in self-abas.e.m.e.nt whether it was not better after all that one who had at starting shown himself so bad a chief, should be thus summarily deposed from office. For he saw at once that his fate would be the same as that of those already sacrificed--either exile beyond seas, or dreary rotting in Newgate or Kilmainham--for was not his signature appended, in the capacity of newly-elected president, to the paper which loyal Ca.s.sidy had tried to swallow? And what a covey had been captured beside himself! what gaps there would be now in the already thinned ranks of those who were prepared to win or peris.h.!.+ Curran's words had come true with regard to the capture--was his other a.s.sertion equally correct? Was there a Judas in their midst who was handing them over to the avenger, the while he gave the kiss of fellows.h.i.+p? The thought was too horrible. Whom was he to suspect? Not Ca.s.sidy, or Bond, or McLaughlin, or his fervent brother Robert--or Curran himself. None of these--who then? It must be Terence Crosbie, whom they had weakly admitted behind the veil, trusting to his honour as a gentleman. His honour! One of the semi-English aristocrats, whose brother was a Blaster--whose mother was Clare's dearest friend. Scales seemed to fall from his eyes, and he stood staring at his own folly. It was evident that Terence had coquetted with them merely to study their plans. That frank air of _bonhomie_ was a.s.sumed. He was like his brother Glandore--only more crafty and astute instead of imbecile; that was all. He was deceiving Curran now as he had deceived them, and Curran was watching over him with the solicitude of a father. It was all too horrible--the world a place of blackest infamy--Ireland the darkest spot upon its face. Yet no. His better judgment revolted against such a belief. The fresh air was balmy; the yellowing sky of surpa.s.sing loveliness. Man, if made of stuff so innately vile, would never have been placed in so fair a casket. Facts are stubborn things, though. The meeting had been betrayed by somebody. Who was the wretch?

It was by this time quite light, and the town-major deemed it wise to remove his prey before early-rising undergraduates should be stirring.

He gave his orders therefore--softly, but with martinet decision--and the party marched away, leaving Robert sitting on the platform.

'I am ready,' he said, leaping up. 'I am one with them, and will go quietly;' but Major Sirr held up his hand and grinned.

'You are fine devil's sp.a.w.n, no doubt,' he said, while his nose wrinkled, 'but we don't want you just yet. You're but a baby bl.u.s.tering like a man. Look at his smooth chin--or is it a girl?

Newgate's a brave residence for summer, if your purse is well lined; if not, best hang yourself before going thither. No, no! I've no warrant to arrest your ladys.h.i.+p--but your time will come, I doubt not.'

'Let him be!' cried his brother Thomas. 'Whither do you take us?'

'First to Kilmainham with you,' Sirr replied sharply. 'Then with the rest to Newgate; then to your offices to seize your precious newspaper, demolish your press, and scatter your type. Have you any objection?'

'That is illegal,' Thomas affirmed, 'till the paper is condemned for sedition.'

The town-major gave vent to a grumbling cachinnation like the rattling of a skeleton in a cupboard, but no smile lit up his sinister countenance. Then he echoed:

'Illegal, ha, ha! That can be set right. Forward--march!'

The cortege moved across the quadrangle, and the ma.s.sive gates of Alma Mater closed behind it. Robert Emmett sat dazed, while the yellow in the sky above the roofs changed to pink and then to blue; for they were gone--away from the sanctuary into the wicked world without; no hue and cry could save them now. The junior dean, his nerves calmed by whisky-punch, lay cosily between the blankets, dreaming of the bishopric he had won that night. An early gownsman, flinging wide his shutters before settling to his morning's work, smiled down on the wild rake who must have come in too drunk to find his way to bed. Boys will be boys, though their mammas wish that they would act as sages; and they must season their heads while they are young.