The Heir of Kilfinnan: A Tale of the Shore and Ocean

by William Henry Giles Kingston

Towards morning Dermot was roused from the bunk on which he had been placed by the man who had before spoken, and an intimation given him that he must rise and prepare to move.

He again saw the person who had been called O’Higgins marshalling the rebels, giving various directions, and finally putting himself at their head, as in regular order they marched away from the cavern.

On being led out of the cave Dermot was placed on the pony and led between two men, and was conducted at a rapid pace towards the south. He knew this by finding the wind still in his back, and catching a glimpse through the gloom of the distant sea.

“They must be going back to the castle,” he thought, “and are about to make the attack they have been threatening. I hope Kathleen arrived in time; if not, those beautiful young ladies and the kind Earl will fall into their hands. Oh, that I could have got away and made sure of giving them warning in time; and yet I do not think the people in the cave slept through the night, and I should have been found out to a certainty. Even now, I don’t think they know who I am, and they still believe they have got the young lord. Well, they may hang me in their rage when they find out who I am, and it cannot be helped. Kathleen will scarcely have failed in giving the notice I sent. But then, if they kill me, oh, what grief for my poor mother. That is the bitterest thing in the matter: for her sake, if I thought there was a chance of escaping I would make the attempt; but if God thinks right to call me out of the world, He knows what is best. Still something may occur by which I may hope to escape, though I know these men about me are ready for any bloody work. What fearful oaths I heard them swear, and we know too well what dreadful things have been done in other parts of the country. The young and the fair, and the old and the helpless, have been murdered by their cruel hands. A fearful thing is this civil war. I used not to think much of it once, but I do now. And oh, that sweet young Lady Nora and her cousin, to think of the horrors to which they may be exposed.”

Such were the thoughts which passed rapidly through Dermot’s brain in spite of the danger to which he himself was exposed. He heard the people as before speaking round him in the native Irish, but he took good care to make no remarks; indeed, he felt sure that should he speak, his voice alone might betray him. Had they indeed seen him in daylight they might have suspected, in spite of the cloak which covered him, that he was not the young lord. At length he knew by the appearance of the country, and the expressions he heard uttered round him, that they were drawing close to the castle, though they had arrived by a more inland route than that which he usually took. He judged that some hundreds of people comprised the force of rebels. They were armed in a variety of ways, but a considerable number had muskets and pistols. He discovered also that the two small field-pieces which he had seen in the cavern had been brought with them. Not knowing the moderate powers of such pieces of ordnance, he was afraid that the insurgents with them would batter down the walls. This made him feel more alarmed than ever for the safety of his friends.

The rebel force now drew up close round the castle, and a consultation was held among the chiefs as to how the attack should be commenced.

Dermot was led up on his pony close to where the leaders were assembled holding their consultation of war. One of them, with more sagacity than the rest, suggested that before they began the attack they should demand the surrender of the fortress, threatening that if this was not agreed to, they would immediately put to death the young lord whom they had in their power.

One of their number was accordingly selected to act as herald, and directed to proceed to the front gate, and to demand a parley. The man thus honoured was a broad shouldered Celt, evidently more accustomed to dig than to perform the part for which he had been appointed. He was furnished, however, with a stick and white handkerchief fastened to it, to act as a flag of truce, and urged to proceed at once on his mission.

He evidently did not like the task imposed on him, for Dermot heard him explain that he was doubtful whether he could muster a sufficient amount of Saxon to speak to the garrison.

“Never fear that,” was the answer; “there are many who know Celtic inside, and they’ll not fail to understand you.”