It was as much as I could do to stand steady under this shock.
“I was never in Dublin before,” said I; “how should I? Is he an Englishman?”
“Englishman? he’s worse. He’s an Irish traitor, I tell you, and feeds on the blood of his people. He was the toad that made fools of us all, and wormed himself into our secrets, and then turned and stabbed us in the back. But we’re not dead yet. We’ll be even with him.”
“Where has he gone now?” said I.
“Away home with his girl, who’s as bad as himself. Sure, you saw her coquetting with the young dandy just now. He’s in the very middle of the nest of vipers that are plotting to grind the life out of Ireland. Maybe,” said he, stopping suddenly and looking hard at me, “you’re one of that same nest yourself?”
“God forbid!” said I; “I love Ireland.”
“That’s good hearing. You’re one of us?”
“Of the friends of my country, yes.”
“A sworn friend?”
“I was sworn, yes,” said I, determined at all cost to hear more of the business.