“With the pistols again?”
“Indeed we did; and lucky for us that we did so. Had they not known that we were prepared, I am convinced the house would have been attacked. Our daughters sat with us this night, and we were so far used to the state of disturbance, that we were able to have a little supper.”
“You must have wanted that, I think.”
“Indeed we did. About four in the morning, I dropped asleep on the sofa; but Mary never closed her eyes.”
“Did they come into the garden at all, or near the house?”
“No, they did not. And I am very thankful they refrained from doing so, for I determined to act promptly, Mr Armstrong, and so was Mary—that is, Mrs O’Joscelyn. We were both determined to fire, if we found our premises invaded. Thank God the miscreants did not come within the gate.”
“You did not suffer much, then, except the anxiety, Mr O’Joscelyn?”
“God was very merciful, and protected us; but who can feel safe, living in such times, and among such a people? And it all springs from Rome; the scarlet woman is now in her full power, and in her full deformity. She was smitten down for a while, but has now risen again. For a while the right foot of truth was on her neck; for a while she lay prostrated before the strength of those, who by God’s grace, had prevailed against her. But the latter prophecies which had been revealed to us, are now about to be accomplished. It is well for those who comprehend the signs of the coming time.”
“Suppose we join the ladies,” said the earl, awakened by the sudden lull in Mr O’Joscelyn’s voice. “But won’t you take a glass of Madeira first, Mr Armstrong?”
Mr Armstrong took his glass of Madeira, and then went to the ladies; and the next morning, left Grey Abbey, for his own parish. Well; thought he to himself, as he was driven through the park, in the earl’s gig, I’m very glad I came here, for Frank’s sake. I’ve smoothed his way to matrimony and a fortune. But I don’t know anything which would induce me to stay a week at Grey Abbey. The earl is bad—nearly unbearable; but the parson!—I’d sooner by half be a Roman myself, than think so badly of my neighbours as he does. Many a time since has he told in Connaught, how Mr O’Joscelyn. and Mary, his wife, sat up two nights running, armed to the teeth, to protect themselves from the noisy Repealers of Kilcullen.