“Who is Garret?” broke in the lady, in a deep, full voice.
“The late Mr. Gleeson's butler, ma'am,” said the little man; “a person we have never been able to come at. To summon him as a witness would avail us nothing; it is his private testimony that might be of such use to us.”
“Well, you see, sir,” continued the green coat, or, as he was familiarly named by the other, Jack, whom, perhaps, our reader has already recognized as Freney, the others being Miss Daly and Bicknell,-“well, you see, sir, Mr. Daly was angry at the way things was done that night,—and sure enough he had good cause,-and sorra bit of a word he 'd speak to me when I was standing with the tears in my eyes to thank him; no, nor he wouldn't take the mare that was ready saddled and bridled in Healey's stables waiting for him, but he turned on his heel with 'D——n you for a common highwayman; it's what a man of blood and birth ever gets by stretching a hand to save you.'”
“He should have thought of that before,” remarked Miss Daly, solemnly.
“Faith, and if he did, ma'am, your humble servant would have had to dance upon nothing!” rejoined Freney, with a laugh that was very far from mirthful.
“And what was the circumstance which gave Mr. Daly so much displeasure, Jack?” asked Bicknell. “I thought that everything went on exactly as he had planned it.”
“Quite the contrary, sir; nothing was the way it ought to be. The fire was never thought of—”
“Never thought of! Do you mean to say it was an accident?”
“No, I don't, sir; I mean that all we wanted was to make believe that the jail was on fire, which was easy enough with burning straw; the rest was all planned safe and sure. And when we saw the real flames shooting up, sorra one was more frightened than some of ourselves; each accusing the other, cursing and shouting, and crying like mad! Ay, indeed! there was an ould fellow in for sheep-stealing, and nothing would convince him but that it was 'the devil took us at our word,' and sent his own fire for us. Not one of them was more puzzled than myself. I turned it every way in my mind, and could make nothing of it; for although I knew well that Mr. Daly would burn down Dublin from Barrack Street to the North Wall if he had a good reason for it, I knew also he 'd not do it out of mere devilment. Besides, ma'am, the way matters was going, it was likely none of us would escape. There was I—saving your presence—with eight-pound fetters on my legs. Ay, faix! I went down the ladder with them afterwards.”
“But the fire.”