‘There was such a title,’ interposed Peters; ‘it was one of King James’s last creations after his flight from the Boyne. Some, indeed, assert that it was conferred before the battle. What a strange coincidence, to find the descendant, if he be such, labouring in something like the same cause as his ancestor.’
‘What’s your rank, sir?’ asked a sharp, severe-looking man, called Major Flood.
‘First Lieutenant of Hussars.’
‘And is it usual for a boy of your years to hold that rank; or was there anything peculiar in your case that obtained the promotion?’
‘I served in two campaigns, and gained my grade regularly.’
‘Your Irish blood, then, had no share in your advancement?’ asked he again.
‘I am a Frenchman, as I said before,’ was my answer.
‘A Frenchman, who lays claim to an Irish estate and an Irish title,’ replied Flood. ‘Let us hear Dowall’s statement.’
And now, to my utter confusion, a man made his way to the table, and, taking the book from the Judge Advocate, kissed it in token of an oath.
‘Inform the Court of anything you know in connection with the prisoner,’ said the judge.