"My dear friends," said he, after he had entered the inner part of it, "you must disperse immediately. Hennessy has betrayed you, and if you remain here twenty-four hours longer, Sir Kobert Whitecraft and a party of military, guided, probably, by the treacherous scoundrel himself, will be upon you. The villain had a long interview with him, and gave a full detail of the cavern and its inmates."

"But how did you become acquainted with Sir Kobert Whitecraft?" asked the bishop.

"In order, my lord, to ascertain his intentions and future proceedings,"

replied Mr. Drum, "that we might guard against his treachery and persecution. On his way home from a dinner at Squire Folliard's I met him in a lonely part of the road, where he was thrown from his horse; I helped him into his saddle, told him I was myself a priest-hunter, and thus got into his confidence so far as to be able to frustrate Hennessy's treachery, and to counteract his own designs."

"Sir," said the bishop sternly, "you have acted a part unworthy of a Christian clergyman. We should not do evil that good may follow; and you have done evil in a.s.sociating yourself, in any sense and for any purpose, with this bloodthirsty tiger and persecutor of the faithful."

"My lord," replied the priest, "this is not a time to enter into a discussion on such a subject. Hennessy has betrayed us; and if you do not disperse to other places of safety, he will himself, as I said, lead Sir Robert Whitecraft and a military party to this very cavern, and then may G.o.d have mercy on you all."

"Brethren," said the bishop, "this is, after all, possible that our brother has, by the mercy and providence of G.o.d, through his casual meeting with this remorseless man, been made the instrument of our safety. As for myself, I am willing to embrace the crown of martyrdom, and to lay down my life, if necessary, for the faith that is in me. You all know what I have already suffered, and you know that persecution drives a wise man mad. My children," he added, "it is possible, and I fear too probable, that some of us may never see each other in this life again; but at the same time, let it be our hope and consolation that we shall meet in a better. And for this purpose, and in order to secure futurity of happiness, let us lead spotless and irreproachable lives, such as will enable ur to meet the hour of death, whether it comes by the hand of G.o.d or the persecution of man. Be faithful to the principles of our holy religion--be faithful to truth--to moral virtue--be faithful to G.o.d, before whose awful tribunal we must all appear, and render an account of our lives. It would be mere wantonness to throw yourselves into the hands of our persecutors. Reserve yourselves; for the continuance and the sustainment of our blessed religion; but if you should happen to fall, by the snares and devices of the enemy, into the power of those who are striving to work our extermination, and if they should press you to renounce your faith, upon the alternative of banishment or death, then, I say, banishment, or death itself, sooner than become apostates to your religion. I shall retire to a neighborhood only a few miles distant from this, where the poor Catholic population are without spiritual aid or consolation. I have been there before, and I know their wants, and were it not that I was hunted and pursued with a view to my death--to my murder, I should rather say--I would have remained with them still. But that I considered it a duty to that portion of the Church over which G.o.d called upon me to preside and watch, I would not have avoided those inhuman traffickers in the blood of G.o.d's people. Yet I am bound to say that, from the clergymen of the Established Church, and from many Protestant magistrates, we have received kindness, sympathy, and shelter. Their doors, their hearths, and their hearts have been open to us, and that, too, in a truly Christian spirit. Let us, then, render them good for good; let us pray for their conversion, and that they may return to the right path."

"They have acted generously and n.o.bly," added Reilly, "and in a truly Christian spirit. Were it not for the shelter and protection which I myself received from one of them, my mangled body would probably be huddled down into some obscure grave, as a felon, and my property--which is mine only by a necessary fiction and evasion of the law--have pa.s.sed into the hands of Sir Robert Whitecraft. I am wrong, however, in saying that it could. Mr. Hastings, a generous and liberal Protestant, took it in his own name for my father, but gave me a deed of a.s.signment, placing it as securely in my hands, and in my power, as if I were Sir Robert Whitecraft himself; and I must add--which I do with pleasure--that the deed in question is now in the possession of the Rev. Mr. Brown, the amiable rector of the parish."

"But he is a heretic," said a red-faced little man, dressed in leather breeches, top boots, and a huntsman's cap; _vade retro sathanas_, It is a d.a.m.nable crime to have any intercourse with them, or to receive any protection from them: _vade retro, sathanas_."

"If I don't mistake," said the cook--an archdeacon, by the way--"you yourself received protection from them, and were glad to receive it."

"If I did receive protection from one of their heretic parsons, it was for Christian purposes. My object was not so much to seek protection from him as to work out his salvation by withdrawing him from his heresy. But then the fellow was as obstinate as _sathanas_ himself, and had Greek and Hebrew at his fingers' ends. I made several pa.s.ses at him--tried Irish, and told him it was Italian. 'Well,' said he, smiling, 'I understand Italian too;' and to my astonishment he addressed me in the best Irish I ever heard spoken. 'Now,' said he, still smiling, 'you perceive that I understand Italian nearly--I will not say so well--as you do.' Now, as I am a sinner, that, I say, was ungenerous treatment.

He was perfectly irreclaimable."

This man was, like Mr. Maguire, what has been termed a hedge-priest--a character which, as we have already said, the poverty of the Catholic people, during the existence of the penal laws, and the consequent want of spiritual instruction, rendered necessary. There were no Catholic colleges in the country, and the result was that the number of foreign priests--by which I mean Irish priests educated in foreign colleges--was utterly inadequate to meet the spiritual necessities of the Irish population. Under those circ.u.mstances, men of good and virtuous character, who understood something of the Latin tongue, were ordained by their respective bishops, for the purpose which we have already mentioned. But what a difference was there between those half-educated men and the cla.s.s of educated clergymen who now adorn, not only their Church, but the literature of the country!

"Well, my dear friend," said the bishop, "let us be thankful for the protection which, we have received at the hands of the Protestant clergy and of many of the Protestant laity also. We now separate, and I for one am sensible how much this cruel persecution has strengthened the bonds of Christian love among us, and excited our sympathy for our poor persecuted flocks, so many of whom are now without a shepherd. I leave you with tears--but they are tears of affection, and not of despair. I shall endeavor to be useful wherever I may abide. Let each of you do all the spiritual good you can--all the earthly good--all good in its most enlarged and purest sense. But we must separate--probably, some of us, forever; and now may the blessing of the Almighty G.o.d--of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, rest upon you all, and be with you and abide in your hearts, now and forever! Amen!"

Having p.r.o.nounced these words, he covered his face with his two hands and wept bitterly. There were indeed few dry eyes around him; they knelt before him, kissed his ring, and prepared to take their departure out of the cavern.

"My lord," said Reilly, who still entertained apprehensions of the return of his malady, "if you will permit me I shall share your fate, whatever it may be. The poor people you allude to are not in a condition to attend to your wants. Allow me, then, to attend and accompany you in your retreat."

"My dear friend," said the bishop, clasping his hand, "you are heaping coals of fire upon my head. I trust you will forgive me, for I knew not what I did. I shall be glad of your companionship. I fear I still stand in need of such a friend. Be it so, then," he proceeded--"be it so, my dear friend; only that I should not wish you to involve yourself in unnecessary danger on my account."

"Danger, my lord!" replied Reilly; "there is not an individual here against whom personal malignity has directed the vengeance of the law with such a bloodthirsty and vindictive spirit as against myself. Why else am I here? No, I will accompany your lordship, and share your fate."

It was so determined, and they left the cavern, each to procure some place of safety for himself.

In the meantime, Sir Robert Whitecraft, having had another interview with Hennessy, was prevailed upon to get a military party together, and the cunning reprobate, in order to excite the baronet's vengeance to a still higher pitch, mentioned a circ.u.mstance which he had before forgotten, to wit, that Reilly, his arch-enemy, was also in the cave.

"But," said Sir Robert, who, as we have already said, was a poltroon and a coward, "what guarantee can you give me that you are not leading me into an ambuscade? You know that I am unpopular, and the Papists would be delighted to have my blood; what guarantee, then, can you give me that you, are acting by me in good faith?"

"The guarantee of my own life," replied the other. "Let me be placed between two of your men, and if you see any thing like an ambuscade, let them shoot me dead on the spot."

"Why," replied the baronet, "that is fair; but the truth is, I have been put on my guard against you by a person who escorted me home last night.

He rendered me some a.s.sistance when I fell from my horse, and he slept here."

"What is his name?" asked Hennessy.

"He told me," replied the baronet, "that his name was Drum."

"Could you give me a description, Sir Robert, of his person?"

Sir Robert did so.

"I declare to G.o.d, Sir Robert, you have had a narrow escape from that man. He is one of the most bigoted priests in the kingdom. He used to disguise himself as a drummer--for his father was in the army, and he himself was a drummer in his boyhood; and his object in preventing you from bringing a military party to the cavern was merely that he might have an opportunity of giving them notice of your intentions. I now say that if you lose an hour's time they will be gone."

Sir Robert did not lose an hour's time. The local barracks were within a few hundred yards of his house. A party of military were immediately called out, and in a short time they arrived, under the guidance of Hennessy, to the very mouth of the cavern, which he disclosed to them.

It is unnecessary to detail the particulars of the search. The soldiers entered it one by one, but found that the birds had flown. The very fires were burning, but not a living soul in the cave; it was completely deserted, and nothing remained but some miserable relics of cold provisions, with which, by the aid of fir splices, that served as torches, they regaled themselves as far as they went.

Sir Robert Whitecraft now felt full confidence in Hennessy; but would have given a trifle to renew his acquaintance with Mr. Rowland Drum, by whose ingenuity he was so completely outwitted. As it was, they scoured the country in search of the inmates of the cave, but above all things in search of Reilly, for whose capture Whitecraft would have forgiven every man in the cavern. The search, however, was unsuccessful; not a man of them was caught that day, and gallant Sir Robert and his myrmidons were obliged to return wearied and disappointed men.

CHAPTER XIII.--Reilly is Taken, but Connived at by the Sheriff

--The Mountain Ma.s.s

Reilly and the bishop traversed a wild and remote part of the country, in which there was nothing to be seen but long barren wastes, over which were studded, here and there, a few solitary huts; upon its extremity, however, there were some houses of a more comfortable description, the habitations of middling farmers, who possessed small farms at a moderate rent. As they went along, the prelate addressed Reilly in the following-terms:

"Mr. Reilly," said he, "I would advise you to get out of this unhappy country as soon as you can."

"My lord," replied Reilly, who was all candor and truth, and never could conceal his sentiments, at whatever risk, "I cannot think of leaving the country, let the consequences be what they may. I will not trouble your lordship with my motives, because they are at variance with your character and religious feelings; but they are not at variance with religion or morality. It is enough to say that I wish to prevent a beautiful and innocent girl from being sacrificed. My lord, you know too well that persecution is abroad; and when I tell you that, through the influence which this admirable creature has over her father--who, by the way, has himself the character of a persecutor--many Catholics have been protected by him, I am sure you will not blame me for the interest which I feel in her fate. In addition to this, my lord, she has been a ministering angel to the Catholic poor in general, and has contributed vast sums, privately, to the relief of such of our priesthood as have been brought to distress by the persecution of the times. Nay, she has so far influenced her father that proscribed priests have found refuge and protection in his house."

The bishop, on hearing this, stood, and taking off his hat, raised his right hand, and said: "May the blessing of the Almighty G.o.d rest upon her, and guard her from the snares of those who would make her unhappy!

But, Reilly, as you say you are determined, if possible, to rescue her from ruin, you know that if you go at large in your usual dress you will unquestionably be taken. I advise you, then, to disguise yourself in such a way as that you will not, if possible, be known."

"Such, my lord, is my intention--but who is this? what--eh--yes, 'tis Fergus O'Reilly, a distant and humble relation of mine who is also in disguise. Well, Fergus, where have you been for some time past?"

"It would be difficult to tell that, G.o.d knows; I have been everywhere--but," he added in a whisper, "may I speak freely?"

"As free as the wind that blows, Fergus."

"Well, then, I tell you that Sir Robert Whitecraft has engaged me to be on the lookout for you, and said that I would be handsomely rewarded if I could succeed in enabling the scoundrel to apprehend you."

"But how did that come about, Fergus?"

"Faith, he met me one day--you see I have got a bag at my back--and taking me for a beggarman, stopped me on the road. 'I say, you, poor man,'says he, 'what's your name?' 'Paddy M'Fud,' says I--'I belong to the M'Fuds of Ballymackknockem.' 'You're a beggar,' says he, 'and travel from place to place about the country.' 'It's true enough, your honor,'

I replied, 'I travel about a good deal, of coorse, and it's only that way that I get my bit and sup.' 'Do you know the notorious villain called w.i.l.l.y Reilly'?' 'Not by sight, your honor, but I have often heard of him. Wasn't he in love with the beautiful _Cooleen Bawn_, Squire Folliard's daughter?' 'That's not the question between us,' he said, 'but if you enable me to catch Reilly, I will give you twenty pounds.'

'Well, your honor,' says I, 'lave the thing to myself; if he is to be had it'll go hard but I'll find him.' 'Well, then,' says he, 'if you can tell me where he is I will give you twenty pounds, as I said.' 'Well, sir,' says I, 'I expect to hear from you; I am not sure he's in the country--indeed they say he is not--but if he is, I think I'll find him for you;' and so we parted."

"Fergus," said Reilly, "I feel that a disguise is necessary. Here is money to enable you to purchase one. I do not know where you may be able to find me; but go and buy me a suit of frieze, rather worn, a dingy caubeen hat, coa.r.s.e Connemara stockings, and a pair of clouted brogues; some course linen, too; because the fineness of my shirts, should I happen to be apprehended, might betray me. Leave them with widow Buckley, and I can find them there."

It was so arranged. Fergus went on his way, as did Reilly and the bishop. The latter conducted him to the house of a middling farmer, whose son the bishop had sent, at his own expense, to a continental college. They were both received with the warmest affection, and, so far as the bishop was concerned, with every expression of the deepest grat.i.tude. The situation was remote, and the tumult of pursuit did not, reach them. Reilly privately forced upon the farmer compensation for their support, under a solemn injunction that he should not communicate that circ.u.mstance to the bishop, and neither did he. They were here, then, comparatively safe, but still Reilly dreaded the active vigilance of his deadly enemy, Sir Robert Whitecraft. He felt that a disguise was absolutely necessary, and that, without it, he might fall a sacrifice to the diabolical vengeance of his powerful enemy. In the course of about ten days after he had commissioned Fergus to procure him the disguise, he resolved to visit widow Buckley, in order to make the necessary exchange in his apparel. He accordingly set out--very foolishly we must admit--in open day, to go to the widow's house. The distance was some miles. No appearance of danger, or pursuit, was evident, until he came to the sharp angle of the road, where he was met by four powerful constables, who, on looking at him, immediately surrounded him and made him prisoner. Resistance was impossible; they were well armed, and he was without any weapon with which he could defend himself.

"We have a warrant for your apprehension, sir," said one of them.

"Upon what grounds?" replied Reilly. "I am conscious of no offence against the laws of the land. Do you know who I am? and is my name in your warrant?"

"No, but your appearance answers completely to the description given in the _Hue and Cry_. Your dress is the same as that of the robber, and you must come with us to the sheriff whom you have robbed. His house is only a quarter of a mile from this."