“The people have dispersed already,” said Beecham, as he came back from the door of the court; “the square is quite empty.”
“Yes, I did that,” whispered Heffernan in O'Reilly's ear; “I made the servant put on the Counsellor's greatcoat, and drive rapidly off towards the abbey. The carriage is now, however, at the back entrance to the court-house; so, by all means, persuade him to return.”
“When do you propose bringing the fellow up for examination, Mr. O'Reilly?” said O'Halloran, as he arose from his seat.
“To-morrow morning. I have given orders to summon a full bench of magistrates, and the affair shall be sifted to the bottom.”
“You may depend upon that, sir,” said the Counsellor, sternly. “Now I 'll go back with you, Mr. Beecham O'Reilly.” So saying, he moved towards a private door of the building, where the phaeton was in waiting, and, before any attention was drawn to the spot, he was seated in the carriage, and the horses stepping out at a fast pace towards home.
“It's not Bagenal Daly?” said O'Reilly, the very moment he saw the carriage drive off.
“No, no!” said Heffernan, smiling.
“Nor the young Darcy,—the captain?”
“Nor him either. It's a young fellow we have been seeking for in vain the last month. His name is Forester.”
“Not Lord Castlereagh's Forester?”