Such was the reflection of one who watched them as they went past, and with sorrow we saw ourselves concurring in the sentiment.
CHAPTER XXII. THE DAY OF "CASTLEBAR."
We were all occupied with our drill at daybreak on the morning of the 27th of August, when a mounted orderly arrived at full gallop, with news that our troops were in motion for Castlebar, and orders for us immediately to march to their support, leaving only one subaltern and twenty men in "the Castle."
The worthy Bishop was thunderstruck at the tidings. It is more than probable that he never entertained any grave fears of our ultimate success; still he saw that in the struggle, brief as it might be, rapine, murder, and pillage would spread over the country, and that crime of every sort would be certain to prevail during the short interval of anarchy.
As our drums were beating the "rally," he entered the garden, and with hurried steps came forward to where Colonel Charost was standing delivering his orders.
"Good day, Mons. l'Evêque," said the Colonel, removing his hat, and bowing low. "You see us in a moment of haste. The campaign has opened, and we are about to march."
"Have you made any provision for the garrison of this town, Colonel?" said the Bishop, in terror. "Your presence alone has restrained the population hitherto. If you leave us—"
"We shall leave you a strong force of our faithful allies, sir," said Charost; "Irishmen could scarcely desire better defenders than their countrymen."
"You forget, Colonel, that some of us here are averse to this cause, but as non-combatants, lay claim to protection."