'I can only repeat,' said Cassidy, with the crumpling of skin which made his flat face so droll, 'that I care nought for him, though I should be sorry if he came to be put away as his paid informers often are--consigned to Moiley, as the common people say. It is important for a poor man like me to have a friend at court. I might be taken any day on false information, and lie perdu in Newgate till my bones rotted. My Lord Clare is a kind patron, but too much engaged to heed the fate of such humble squireens as I. I have no genius like Mr. Curran. My disappearance would cause no hue-and-cry. We must look after our own bodies, and Sirr is my sheet-anchor.'
The chancellor glanced at Cassidy with a whimsical expression on his face, half curiosity, half contempt, while Curran said:
'That town-major is too much considered. Beware, my lord, of Jacks-in-office, who, in the intoxication of gratified vanity, mistake the dictates of passion for the suggestions of duty, and consider that power unemployed is so much wasted. But I'm a fool. Your lordship is laughing at me.'
Doreen, having presided over the tea-table, retired to the open window, for her heart was full of Theobald, and this chatter grated on her nerves. My lady seized the opportunity to discourse of the proceedings of the day, of how Lord Camden had marched round William's statue with all his peers, and of how the scum had looked stupidly at the pageant with angry scowls. 'I was glad to see it,' she went on complacently, 'for tribulation is good for their sins, and bears fruit. There have been a blessed number of conversions of late.'
'Some are too weak to endure oppression,' remarked Arthur, gently, 'and turn Protestant to escape from misery.'
'Then it is good that the oppression, as you call it, should continue,' returned his sister, with decision. 'The scarlet woman and her progeny of vices shall be extinguished. When people are so ignorant and brutish, they must be snatched from the fire by any means.'
'My lady, my lady!' laughed Curran. 'Your speech and your deeds are ever at variance. Your words breathe fire and sword, yet none are more kindly to the poor. Extremes meet, you know. I believe that you will die a Catholic.'
My lady glanced at Doreen, pursed up her lips, and said nothing.
'Did we not agree t'other day about true religion? It lies not in abusing our neighbours, but in cultivating a heart void of offence to God and man. Remember that definition, Terence, and act on it, my boy. It was a saying of the great Lord Chatham.'
'If only Luther had never been born!' groaned Arthur Wolfe. 'Christianity was good enough for Christendom in old days.'