'What can a rabble hope to do against a disciplined force?' exclaimed Terence, with animation. 'The French could not spare three hundred officers to this outlying island. Who have you amongst you who could teach a single military manœuvre? Who could save an army from rout if attacked in rear, or judiciously decide upon a line of entrenchment? What a reckless waste of life--a march into the grave!'
'There are cultivated gintlemen who will come forward when they see that we are in earnest,' put in Cassidy slyly; 'lots of them. There is no telling what mines of military genius may be found amongst the high-born. I confess I'd like to know what we really may expect from France. Theobald has been ten months in Paris, is hand and glove they say with General Hoche, and Carnot, the "Organiser of Victory." Strange he should never write.'
'My cousin Doreen has letters from him,' Terence said, in thick accents. 'Maybe she'd tell us if we coaxed her.' Then, rising, he flung wide the shutters and opened the window, through which streamed such a flood of morning light and perfumed air as caused his wits to reel. Cassidy grinned, as he marked the 'us,' and, encouraged by so good a sign, made bold to clap the young patrician upon the shoulder.
'Sure she'd tell you, councillor darlint,' he whispered; 'for she likes you, and I can get nothing serious out of her. Faix! it's the dainty colleen she is!'
'I dare say she would,' returned Terence, while lines of latent humour puckered up the giant's face. Councillor Crosbie's lofty patronage amused him, for, of the two, Mr. Cassidy had seen most of the Abbey during the past year. 'The day is come,' he urged; 'the very hour for a ride. Will ye go and find out something to make our minds aisy, or do ye think Misthress Doreen would be cross wid ye?'
Cassidy was taking liberties. Of that Terence felt hazily assured.
'Yes,' he replied, 'I will canter over to Strogue to see what I can gather; a gallop by the beach will steady my nerves for the business of the infernal Four-courts. Tell Phil, Cassidy, to saddle the horses at once.'
Cassidy humbly obeyed orders, while Curran, who was watching, laughed, despite his dreary thoughts. How translucent is the strategy of youth! The squireen's familiar manner of mentioning Doreen had stung her cousin, and filled him with a desire to warn her of the oaf's presumption. It was a fine excuse for stealing a delicious hour with a girl who loved not flirtation; who crumpled up her admirers with scorn; who might, without some such excuse, resent even a cousin's interference with the stern duties of matutinal chicken-feeding.
'Go!' Mr. Curran laughed, his conscience relieved, as he placed his hand on the broad straight back of his favourite. 'Go, lad, and learn what you can from that lovely conspiring siren. I think my Sally must go too, to protect you. Stop a minute while I write a line to my lady. I'm sorry we've not had so gay a time as usual--but sure gaiety is being squeezed quite out of us. One Doughan Dourish before we separate. Here's to Innisfail, and may God have mercy on her! And now good-night, or rather good-morning. I've a heavy day before me, and must e'en steal forty winks.'
The party mounted their horses and rode away, and Mr. Curran went to bed and slept, quite persuaded now that Terence must go home and stop there.