As we thus waited, the officers gathered around the fire-place, chatting and laughing pleasantly together, discussing the social events of the capital, and the gossip of the day; every thing, in fact, but the case of the individual on whose future fate they were about to decide.
At length the long-expected books made their appearance, and a few well-thumbed volumes were spread over the table, behind which the Court took their places, Colonel Daly in the centre, with the Judge upon his left.
The members being sworn, the Judge Advocate arose, and in a hurried, humdrum kind of voice, read out what purported to be the commission under which I was to be tried; the charge being, whether I had or had not acted treacherously and hostilely to his Majesty, whose natural born subject I was, being born in that kingdom, and, consequently, owing to him all allegiance and fidelity. "Guilty or not guilty, sir?"
"The charge is a falsehood; I am a Frenchman," was my answer.
"Have respect for the Court, sir," said Peters; "you mean that you are a French officer, but by birth an Irishman."
"I mean no such thing;—that I am French by birth, as I am in feeling—that I never saw Ireland till within a few months back, and heartily wish I had never seen it."
"So would General Humbert, too, perhaps," said Daly, laughing; and the Court seemed to relish the jest.
"Where were you born, then, Tiernay?"
"In Paris, I believe."
"And your mother's name, what was it?"