“Act as you like,” replied Michael; “but this I can tell you, and this I do tell you, that if, for the safety of this villain, you take a single step that may bring Shawn-na-Middogue into danger, if you were my brother ten times over I will not prevent him—Shawn I mean—from letting loose his vengeance upon you. No, nor upon Rathfillan House and all that it contains, you among the number.”
“I will do nothing,” replied Barney, firmly, “to bring Shawn or any of you into danger; but as sure as I have a Christian soul to be saved, and my life in my body, I will, as I said, put Mr. Harry Woodward upon his guard against him. So now, if you think it proper to let me be present at your meeting, knowing what you know, I will go, but not otherwise.”
“I feel, Barney,” said his brother, “that my mind is much hardened of late by the society I keep. I remember when I thought murder as horrible a thing as you do, but now it is not so. The planning and the plotting of it is considered only as a good joke among us.”
“But why don't you lave them, then?” said Barney. “The pious principles of our father and mother were never such as they practise and preach among you. Why don't you lave them, I say?”
“Don't you know,” replied Michael, “that that step would be my death warrant? Once we join them we must remain with them, let what may happen. No man laving them, unless he gets clear of the country altogether, may expect more than a week's lease of life; in general not so much. They look upon him as a man that has been a spy among them, and who has left them to make his peace, and gain a fortune from government for betraying them; and you know how often it has happened.”
“It is too true, Michael,” replied his brother, “for unfortunately it so happens that, whether for good or evil, Irishmen can never be got to stand by each other. Ay, it is true—too true. In the meantime call on me to-morrow with liberty from Shawn to attend your meeting, and we will both go there together.”
“Very well,” replied his brother, “I will do so.”
The next night was one of tolerably clear moonlight; and about the hour of twelve or one o'clock some twenty or twenty-five outlaws were assembled immediately adjoining the spot where Charles Lindsay was so severely and dangerously wounded. The appearance of those men was singular and striking. Their garbs, we need scarcely inform our readers, were different from those of the present day. Many—nay, most, if not all of them, were bitter enemies to the law, which rendered it penal for them to wear their glibs, and in consequence most of those present had them in full perfection around their heads, over which was worn the barrad or Irish cap, which, however, was then beginning to fall into desuetude. There was scarcely a man of them on whose countenance was not stamped the expression of care, inward suffering, and, as it would seem, the recollection of some grief or sorrow which had befallen themselves or their families. There was something, consequently, determined and utterly reckless in their faces, which denoted them to be men who had set at defiance both the world and its laws. They all wore the truis, the brogue, and beneath the cloaks which covered them were concealed the celebrated Irish skean or mid-dogue, so that at the first glance they presented the appearance of men who were in a peaceful garb and unarmed. The persons of some of them were powerful and admirably symmetrical, as could be guessed from their well-defined outlines. They arranged themselves in a kind of circle around Shawn-na-Middogue, who stood in the centre as their chief and leader. A spectator, however, could not avoid observing that, owing to the peculiarity of their costume, which, in consequence of their exclusion from society, not to mention the poverty and hardship which they were obliged to suffer, their appearance as a body was wild and almost savage. In their countenances was blended a twofold expression, composed of ferocity and despair. They felt themselves excommunicated, whether justly or not, from the world and its institutions, and knew too well that society, and the laws by which it is regulated and protected, were hunting them like beasts of prey for their destruction. Perhaps they deserved it, and this consideration may still more strongly account for their fierce and relentless-looking aspect. There is, in the meantime, no doubt that, however wild, ferocious, and savage they may have appeared, the strong and terrible hand of injustice and oppression had much, too much, to do with the crimes which they had committed, and which drove them out of the pale of civilized life. Altogether the spectacle of their appearance there on that night was a melancholy, as well as a fearful one, and ought to teach statesmen that it is not by oppressive laws that the heart of man can be improved, but that, on the contrary, when those who project and enact them come to reap the harvest of their policy, they uniformly find it one of violence and crime. So it has been since the world began, and so it will be so long as it lasts, unless a more genial and humane principle of legislation shall become the general system of managing, and consequently, of improving society.
“Now, my friends,” said Shawn-na-Middogue, “you all know why we are here. Unfortunate Granua Davoren has disappeared, and I have brought you together that we may set about the task of recovering her, whether she is living or dead. Even her heart-broken parents would feel it a consolation to have her corpse in order that they might give it Christian burial. It will be a shame and a disgrace to us if she is not found, as I said, living or dead. Will you all promise to rest neither night nor day till she is found? In that case swear it on your skeans.”
In a moment every skean was out, and, with one voice, they said, “By the contents of this blessed iron, that has been sharpened for the hearts of our oppressors, we will never rest, either by night or by day, till we find her, living or dead”—every man then crossed himself and kissed his skean—“and, what is more,” they added, “we will take vengeance upon the villain that ruined her.”