“I should stand no chance with you either way, I am afraid; but I am very tired and with your permission”--and here Gervase offered to rise.
The other clapped his hand upon his sword, and rose to his feet with a drunken stagger. “Nay, that you shall not. I am a hospitable man, and none shall say that I did not give you an opportunity of going to bed like a gentleman.”
Finding himself thus placed between two fires, Gervase unwillingly resumed his seat, and watched his truculent host growing more and more intoxicated, while he entered into a rambling disquisition on his own fortunes and the wrongs of his unhappy country. He did not doubt but that the time of deliverance had come. The Irish gentlemen were about to strike a great blow for freedom and for James Stuart, though they cared not a whit for the quarrel, but he served their purpose as well as another. For the pestilent heretics in Londonderry, they would be taught a wholesome lesson: they would be made a warning to all traitors. His father was a man in Cromwell´s day. Then his talk grew more and more incoherent, and finally, with his head fallen upon his arms, and the contents of the overturned measure streaming over the table, he fell fast asleep. Gervase then rose and sought his own bed, glad that, after all, the night had passed so amicably.
CHAPTER VIII.
OF THE RETURN TO THE CITY.
Colonel Sarsfield more than fulfilled the promise he had made. Seeing that Dorothy had set her heart upon joining her friends in Londonderry, he had accompanied her part of the way himself, and had provided her with an escort for the remainder of her journey. To Gervase he had shown unaffected kindness. He had provided him with a horse and apparel befitting his condition, and at parting had wrung his hand with an appearance of great warmth and friendship.
“It is right, perhaps,” he had said, “that we should be on different sides of this quarrel, but we can part with mutual good-will. I have but one hope and one thought--to see my country once more a nation, great and free. I would that all our people were of one mind, and were striking together for their fatherland. But it is still our curse to be divided--torn and rent by civil feuds. But believe me when I say that Patrick Sarsfield has only one desire on earth, and that is that his country should have her own laws and her own government, and freedom for the meanest. I think I shall meet my fate on the field of battle, but I hope not before I have seen that splendid day. Think well of us, Mr. Orme, and though you do your duty on your own side, remember that there are among us those whose cause is sacred in their eyes, and whose country is dearer to them than their lifeblood.”
They never met again, but Gervase felt in after days that there was one man in Ireland who might have saved his cause, had he not been checked by narrow prejudices and the bitter envy of those who did not understand his proud and chivalrous nature. At Limerick that fiery spirit blazed out for a while in all its native strength, but his cause was already doomed.
When Gervase had reached Londonderry in safety, and had seen Dorothy placed under the protection of her aunt, he returned to his old lodgings over a linendraper´s shop in a small house near the Bishop´s-gate.
In the meantime, memorable events had transpired in his absence. The Irish army, breaking through the defences of the Bann, had pressed on toward Londonderry, and having crossed the Finn, had closed upon the city. Colonel Lundy, whether through vacillation and cowardice or from deliberate treachery, had made no effort to oppose their approach, and had done his best to secure the surrender of the city. At the very moment when he was about to carry out his designs, the citizens awakened to his intentions, and took the authority into their own hands. They seized the keys and took possession of the walls; a new government was established in the city; the garrison was divided into regiments, and preparations were made to stand a long and stubborn siege.
A great change had taken place in the city and in the spirit of the citizens since Gervase had ridden out of the gate, a fortnight before. The old look of dejection and irresolution had disappeared; one of unbounded enthusiasm and zeal had taken its place. Every able-bodied man carried arms and bore himself like a soldier. Swords clanked on the causeway; rusty muskets had been furbished up, and gentlemen and yeomen alike were filled with the same ardour, and wore the same determined air. Every regiment had its post. On the ramparts the guards were posted at regular intervals; little knots of armed and resolute men were gathered in the great square, and companies were being drilled from morning till night in the Bogside. A spirit of unyielding loyalty filled the air. The paving stones had been raised from the streets and were carried to the walls; blinds had been erected to screen the men on the ramparts. From the grey Cathedral tower two guns looked down on the Waterside, and on every bastion were others ready for use. At the Market house also cannon were planted to sweep the streets. At every gate there was a great gun.