“Faith, I’d start this day!” said Flanagan, on whom the perils of remaining within reach of his late comrades were evidently beginning to dawn.
“Silence! Remove the prisoner!”
At this moment the report of a volley in the paddock without sent a grim shudder through the party. Flanagan, with a livid face, walked off between his guards, and the three magistrates turned to enter the house.
His honour beckoned to me to follow, and took me into his private room.
“I owe you something for yesterday,” said he in his ungracious way. “Take a word of advice. Get out of these parts as soon as you can, and warn your brother to do the same.”
“Why should I go?” said I. “I’ve done nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Unless you are prepared to tell the authorities everything you know, and assist in hunting down the rebels, you are better away. You are a marked man already among the rebels. Unless you assist our side you will be a marked man among the authorities.”
“If it comes to that, your honour,” said I, “there is no man more marked in these parts than yourself. The boys could forgive you for being on the English side, but they can’t forgive you for having encouraged them once and turned against them now.”
His honour turned white at this.
“How do you know that?” he demanded.