“If the affair were altogether my own, I should not hesitate,” said he at length, “but it is not so. However, we are in confidence here, and so I will tell you. I came to this part of the country at the earnest desire of Lionel Darcy. I don't know whether you are aware of his sudden departure for India. He had asked for leave of absence to give evidence on this trial; the application was made a few days after a memorial he sent in for a change of regiment. The demand for leave was unheeded, but he received a peremptory order to repair to Portsmouth, and take charge of a detachment under sailing-orders for India; they consisted of men belonging to the Eleventh Light Dragoons, of which he was gazetted to a troop. I was with him at Chatham when the letter reached him, and he explained the entire difficulty to me, showing that he had no alternative, save neglecting the interest of his family, on the one hand, or refusing that offer of active service he had so urgently solicited on the other. We talked the thing over one entire night through, and at last, right or wrong, persuaded ourselves that any evidence he could give would be of comparatively little value; and that the refusal to join would be deemed a stain upon him as an officer, and probably be the cause of greater grief to the Knight himself than his absence at the trial. Poor fellow! he felt for more deeply for quitting England without saying good-bye to his family than for all the rest.”
“And so he actually sailed in the transport?” said Heffernan.
“Yes, and without time for more than a few lines to his father, and a parting request to me to come over to Ireland and be present at the trial. Whether he anticipated any attack of this kind or not, I cannot say, but he expressed the desire so strongly I half suspect as much.”
“Very cleverly done, faith!” muttered Heffernan, who seemed far more occupied with his own reflections than attending to Forester's words; “a deep and subtle stroke, Master O'Reilly, ably planned and as ably executed.”
“I am rejoiced that Lionel escaped this scene, at all events,” said Forester.
“I must say, it was neatly done,” continued Heffernan, still following out his own train of thought; “'Non contigit cuique,' as the Roman says; it is not every man can take in Con Heffernan,—I did not expect Hickman O'Reilly would try it.” He leaned his head on his hand for some minutes, then said aloud, “The best thing for you will be to join your regiment.”
“I have left the army,” said Forester, with a flush, half of shame, half of anger.
“I think you were right,” replied Heffernan, calmly, while he avoided noticing the confusion in the young man's manner. “Soldiering is no career for any man of abilities like yours; the lounging life of a barrack-yard, the mock duties of parade, the tiresome dissipations of the mess, suit small capacities and minds of mere routine. But you have better stuff in you, and, with your connections and family interest, there are higher prizes to strive for in the wheel of fortune.”
“You mistake me,” said Forester, hastily; “it was with no disparaging opinion of the service I left it. My reasons had nothing in common with such an estimate of the army.”
“There's diplomacy, for instance,” said Heffernan, not minding the youth's remark; “your brother has influence with the Foreign Office.”