Probably no one to-day can know what such a meeting meant to a lad brought up as I had been. All my life long had I heard stories of devotion for the sake of the exiled family. I knew of no time when life and fortune was not regarded as their rightful due from their adherents. I had been brought up to believe in them and to hope for them until hope had grown into faith and faith into worship.
My heart was full and my head ringing with excitement, so I can recall little or nothing of the remainder of that memorable afternoon save my wonder, when we stepped out into the street again, to find men and women going about their business just as if nothing had happened. It did not seem possible, when my whole life was changed. I was so bewildered I could scarce believe it was the same world again. I could not talk or even listen to Mr. O'Rourke; as for Angus, I paid no heed to his chatter at all, and it was only when we paused in the Piazza di Spagna to bid good-bye to our friend that I found some words to thank him, and promised to see him again on the following Thursday.
Was there ever so long a week? My lessons were poorly committed; not that I was dull, but my head was so full of other thoughts I had no room for anything else, while ever between me and my books there came that glorious figure, brave in silks and velvet, with jewelled sword by its side and flashing orders on its breast, till I could no longer see my task, and in my ears rang that clear, pleasant voice forever calling, calling. Surely, if any one was bewitched in Rome that week, it was Giovannini McDonell, of the Scots College.
My former record alone kept me from losing my holiday, and as soon as I was free I was off to the College of the Propaganda, though Angus was not altogether set on passing another holiday within doors. I was dreaming of another visit, though I hardly dared hope for it; but Mr. O'Rourke put an end to such thoughts by his first words.
"Welcome, my Highland gentlemen! Can you put up with the poor hospitality of this withered sprig of royalty instead of talking real treason face to face with exiled Princes? Were I King George I'd make it a crime to send little Highland bantams to Rome to turn them into rebel game-cocks."
But I saw he was for drawing me on—an exercise at which he was expert, and which gave him great pleasure—and so, refusing to be angered, I answered with much good-nature: "Indeed, Mr. O'Rourke, I believe you to be as great a rebel yourself as any in the Three Kingdoms."
"Why should I not be, boy?" he asked, sternly. "If I and mine had remained at home, no matter what souls God gave us, we would be forced to herd with the swine and die with the foxes. Abroad we can at least wear with some honour the names our fathers bequeathed to us, and when death comes we can die like gentlemen in the faith into which our mothers bore us. But as to your politics," he said, changing to his usual manner, "I would not give a fig for the whole box and dice. I neither whistle for 'Blackbirds' nor run after 'White Horses.' If I had my rights, 'tis an independent kingdom I'd have in my own family. 'Tis Duke or Crown Prince of Brefni I'd be myself, or perhaps a kind of a Pope of my own, and when I'd speak to the likes of you, 'tis weeping so hard for joy you'd be that you'd take the shine out of all my jewels!" And so on, with a brogue as broad as if Tipperary was in the next room, and macaroni and Italian had never replaced the potatoes and the speech he had left behind.
Finding I would take no offence, he was somewhat dashed and gave over his attempt; so we went off for a stroll and were all merry together.
When we parted he told us with much emphasis that Mr. Murray had sent particular word that we would be admitted by the same door on the following Thursday, shewing me the knock and bidding me give the word "Gaeta" to the porter.
It proved a quieter week for me, and Thursday found us in the little lane, whence we made our way into the Palace gardens, as before, where we found Mr. Sheridan awaiting us, who led us to Mr. Murray's chamber. He was wonderfully busy with his writing, but turned from it to entertain us, and shewed us such attention it was no wonder our heads were nearly turned. He questioned us much about our plans, and, when he found I had no leaning towards the Church, made no scruple to belittle the calling of a priest, and seemed much pleased when I told him of my mind to take up arms as my profession.