‘Not so bad for an animal of this country,’ said I superciliously.
‘Oh, then, what kind of a horse are you accustomed to?’ asked he, half insolently.
‘The Limousin,’ said I coolly, ‘what we always mount in our hussar regiments in France.’
‘And you are a French soldier, then,’ cried he, in evident astonishment at my frankness.
‘At your service, sir,’ said I, saluting; ‘a lieutenant of hussars; and if you are tormented by any further curiosity concerning me, I may as well relieve you by stating that I am proceeding to Lord Cavan’s headquarters to surrender as a prisoner.’
‘Frank enough that!’ said he of the broken leg, laughing heartily as he spoke. ‘Well, sir,’ said the other, ‘you are, as your countrymen would call it, bien venu, for we are bound in that direction ourselves, and will be happy to have your company.’
One piece of tact my worldly experience had profoundly impressed upon me, and that was, the necessity of always assuming an air of easy unconcern in every circumstance of doubtful issue. There was quite enough of difficulty in the present case to excite my anxiety, but I rode along beside the jaunting-car, chatting familiarly with my new acquaintances, and, I believe, without exhibiting the slightest degree of uneasiness regarding my own position.
From them I learned so much as they had heard of the late naval engagement. The report was that Bompard’s fleet had fallen in with Sir John Warren’s squadron; and having given orders for his fastest sailers to make the best of their way to France, had, with the Hoche, the Loire, and the Resolve, given battle to the enemy. These had all been captured, as well as four others which fled, two alone of the whole succeeding in their escape. I think now, that, grievous as these tidings were, there was nothing of either boastfulness or insolence in the tone in which they were communicated to me. Every praise was accorded to Bompard for skill and bravery, and the defence was spoken of in terms of generous eulogy. The only trait of acrimony that showed itself in the recital was a regret that a number of Irish rebels should have escaped in the Biche, one of the smaller frigates; and several emissaries of the people, who had been deputed to the admiral, were also alleged to have been on board of that vessel.
‘You are sorry to have missed your friend the priest of Murrah,’ said Hill jocularly.
‘Yes, by George, that fellow should have graced a gallows if I had been lucky enough to have taken him.’