"A dram or so bigger than mine."
"I will never fight mine own kin, if I may away therewith," said Roger, cheerfully. "Let me but parley with the Irishry myself, and you shall behold somewhat come thereof."
"Truly, of that doubt I nothing," said Ormonde in the same tone. "But whether that which comes thereof shall be to your gracious Lordship's ease—well, I was not bred up for a prophet."
"Whither march we?"
"Down the Boyne and up the Blackwater. The sept are gathered at Kenles."[#]
[#] Now called Kells.
"How much is your following?"
"All the Botelers, and a good parcel more of the English pale. We are well enough for that."
"I will march to meet them with the dawn," said the Viceroy. "Madison, order all things in good readiness for early morrow. Maybe I shall find my work there."
It was said in a cheerful, almost exultant voice; and Roger quitted the hall, leaving Lawrence very, very sad.