‘Egad,’ cried Kelly, in a tone of levity, ‘if I had any friends among the saints, I must have tried their patience pretty hard these last eight or nine years; but who is this Mary Fitzgerald—I just caught the name on the paper?’
‘She’s—she’s—she’s—a countrywoman of our own,’ stammered out Fra Luke, while he moved uneasily from foot to foot, and fumbled with his hands up the sleeves of his robe.
‘It was lucky for you, then, we were just talking about Ireland before you went in. He was saying how true and staunch the Irish always showed themselves.’
‘And does he talk of them times?’ asked the Fra in astonishment.
‘Ay, by the hour. Sometimes it’s breaking day before I go to bed, he telling me about all his escapes and adventures. I could fill a book with stories of his.’
‘Musha! but I’d like to hear them,’ cried Luke with honest enthusiasm.
‘Come up here, then—let me see what evening—it mustn’t be Tuesday—nor Wednesday—maybe, indeed, I won’t be back before Friday. Oh, there’s the bell now; that’s for me,’ cried he; and before he could fix the time he hurried off to the Prince’s chamber.
CHAPTER V. AFTER DARK
It was a long and weary day to the poor friar, watching for that Tuesday evening when he should appear at the gate of the Jesuits’ College and ask for the young Fitzgerald. He felt, too, as though some amount of responsibility had been imposed on him to which he was unequal. It seemed to his simple intelligence as if it were a case that required skill and dexterity. The rector might possibly ask this, or wish to know that; and then, how was he to respect the secrecy he had pledged to the Prince? or was he to dare to deceive the great president of the college? Supposing, too, all these difficulties over, what of the youth himself? How should he answer the inquiries he was certain to make—whither he was going—-with what object—and to whom? Greater than all these personal cares was his anxiety that the boy should please his Royal Highness; that the impression he made should be favourable; that his look and bearing might interest the Prince and ensure his future advancement. Let us own that Fra Luke had his grave misgivings on this score. From all he could pick up through the servitors of the convent, Gerald was a wild, headstrong youth, constantly ‘in punishment,’ and regarded by the superiors as the great instigator of every infraction to the discipline of the college. ‘What will a prince think of such an unruly subject?’ was the sad question the simple-hearted friar ever posed to himself. ‘And if the rector only send a report of him, he’ll have no chance at all.’ With this sorrowful thought he brought his reflections to a close; and, taking out his beads, set himself vigorously to implore the intercession of the saints in a cause intrusted to hands so weak and unskilful as his own.