“What, do you know her?”
“She’s from these parts, colonel.”
“Well, she may be there still, unless they’re all dead. Paris is a hot place for any one just now. When they kill kings, and cut off heads like turnip-tops, it’s no place for strangers.”
“They do say the French will be this length before long,” said I, recalling some of the talk I had heard at his honour’s table.
He eyed me sharply.
“They do, do they? And how come you to know it?”
“Sure, it’s common talk,” said I; “and more by tokens, they’ve sent their guns before them.”
“The less you talk about what you don’t understand the better,” said the officer, looking glum; “but I’d give any one a hundred pounds to tell me where they put the arms when they land them.”
Here I thought it wise to be silent. I could have earned a hundred pounds easily that afternoon.
When we reached Rathmullan, a sergeant was down on the pier awaiting Captain Lestrange.