“There be too many priests in Galway already,” said he, with stern-knit brows, “and, had I my way, I should hang ye all. Know ye these men?” he called to the watch.
I held my breath. Father Ambrose and Father Gregory they appeared to know, but as to myself, what would they say?
“Yes, sir,” said the soldier who had spoken before, and as soon as I heard this, I moved on, the Franciscans accompanying me, and beginning their dispute over again.
And so on we walked to the Church of St. Nicholas, while I could scarcely credit having thus fortunately made my entrance into Galway. Having arrived at the church, I directed my steps to the shrine of my patron saint, where, on my knees, with more than the devoutness of many a monk, I offered him my gratitude for his favour and protection, and implored a continuance of the same.
Thus engaged, I had not at once observed that someone had come up behind me, and was kneeling two or three paces away. When I looked up I saw the figure of a woman, but her face I could not see for the shadow of a pillar that intervened.
Somehow, the form seemed familiar, and when she rose up from praying and turned to go, I was startled to find myself gazing at Sabina Lynch. She glanced at me curiously, but, beholding only a friar, passed on sedately out of the building, little thinking at the moment that she had ever been carried, and that not too gently nor so long ago, in that friar’s arms.
To keep up the character I had assumed I began begging, according to the manner of the order of mendicants, from door to door, so soon as I had quitted the church, hoping in this way to light upon someone from whom I might safely ask if Richard Burke were lodging in the town.
And in this it appeared altogether probable that I should have no success, for in many instances I was driven from the doors of the people without ceremony, or paid no heed to whatever. Indeed, the whole town seemed to be agog with something, and, as the streets were now filled with soldiers marching in companies, it was easy to be seen that there was good reason for the excitement.
When I inquired of a man who had given me an alms, and who was of a friendly disposition, what was the cause of all this moil and stir, he replied that surely I must be a stranger not to know that Sir Nicholas was bringing an army together in the town with which he meant to punish the rebels of Connaught.
“What rebels?” asked I innocently.