“Pardon me, captain, would it not be much better to take information like this in a more private manner, if we are to run these villains to earth? At present, what we have to decide is as to the two prisoners; and there seems no question as to their guilt. I identify them both as the men who attacked my car, and whom Gallagher here helped to capture.”
The officer growled something about interfering civilians, but the other magistrate adopted his honour’s view.
“Perhaps you are right, Gorman; but we must find out their hiding-places for all that later on.—Have you any questions to ask, Captain Lavan?”
“Only how long is this formality going on? It’s as clear a case as you could have, and yet here have we been sitting an hour in this draughty yard trying to obscure it,” said the soldier gruffly. “I’m sent here to administer martial law, not to kick my heels about in a police-court.”
The two magistrates took this rebuke meekly, and the president proceeded to pronounce his sentence.
“Cassidy,” said he to the prisoner who had not spoken, and who had evidently refused to answer any question, “you have been caught red-handed in a cowardly attempt to murder an officer of his Majesty, and have admitted your guilt. You have also been proved to be a sworn rebel against the king, and engaged in a conspiracy to overturn his government in Ireland. According to the law, your life is forfeited, and I have no alternative but to hand you over to the military authorities for immediate execution.”
“Guards!” cried the captain, rising, “advance! Take the prisoner outside and shoot him. Quick march!”
Cassidy, who heard his sentence without concern or emotion, shouted,—
“Down with the king! Down with informers!” and fell in between his executioners, as they marched from the yard.
“As for you, Flanagan, your guilt is equally clear and heinous; but you have given evidence which entitles you to more lenient treatment. You will be taken to Derry Jail, till arrangements are made to send you out of the country—”