It was in vain I endeavored to ascertain what circumstances led him to believe himself suspected by the Government; neither was I more fortunate in discovering how he first became a détenu. The mist of imaginary events, places, and people which he had conjured up around him, prevented his ever being able to see his way, or know clearly any one fact connected with his present position. Dark hints about spies, suspicious innuendoes of concealed enemies, plotting préfets and opened letters, had actually filled his brain to the exclusion of everything rational and reasonable, and I began seriously to fear for my poor friend's intellect.
Hoping by a change of topic to induce a more equable tone of thinking, I asked about Ireland.
“All right there! they've hanged 'em all,” said he. Then, as if suddenly remembering himself, he added, with a slight confusion, “You were well out of that scrape, Tom. Your old friend Barton had a warrant for you the morning you left, and there was a reward of five hundred pounds for your apprehension; and something, too, for a confounded old piper,—old Blast-the-Bellows, I think they called him.”
“Darby! What of him, Bubbleton? they did not take him, I trust?”
“No, by Jove! They hanged two fellows, each of whom they believed to be him, and he was in the crowd looking on, they say. But he's at large still; and the report goes, Barton does not stir out at night for fear of meeting him, as the fellow has an old score to settle with him.”
“And so, all hopes of liberty would seem extinguished now,” said I, gloomily.
“That is as you may take it, Tom. I'm a bad judge of these things; but I fancy that a man who can live here might contrive to eke out life under a British Government; though he might yearn now and then for a secret police, a cabinet noir, or perhaps a tight cravat in the Temple.”
“Hush! my friend.”
“Ay, there it is! Now, if we were in Dame Street, we might abuse the ministers and the army and the Lord-Lieutenant to our heart's content; and if Jemmy O'Brien was n't one of the company, I 'd not mind a hit at Barton himself.”
“But does England still maintain her proud tone of ascendency towards Ireland? Is the Saxon the hereditary lord, and the Celt the slave, still?”