Authors: Marjorie Bowen
Dark Rosaleen (22 page)
In her huge bedroom in Leinster House Pamela lay in bed, scarcely able to raise her head for pain and weariness, when the maid ran in and cried that the soldiers were come.
‘Is my Lord arrested?’ exclaimed Pamela, first sitting up in bed and then leaping to the floor, picking up her chamber gown and putting it on with one movement.
‘Nay, Madame, pray don’t take on so! My Lord is not arrested. They have but come for his papers. And don’t try to array yourself, now pray don’t. You have not the strength!’
Pamela put the girl aside. She had long expected this, and the moment was no more frightful than the anticipation of it had been. She pulled a lace cap over her scattered hair, dragged on her little brocade shoes, fastened the ribbons at her neck and went out into the outer room, where the officer sent to search Leinster House, Major O’Kelly, very civil and much embarrassed at his task, nervously waited.
‘Well, sir,’ she asked, ‘what has happened?’
The soldier’s awkwardness increased at the sight of her illness and distress.
‘Madame, I’m very sorry to say — my duty’s disagreeable, believe me. There’s been a conspiracy discovered. Mr. Oliver Bond and some friends of his have been arrested. We’ve a separate warrant out for Lord Edward. We’ve come to search Leinster House for him.’
‘Well, you must search it! It’s not my house — I suppose,’ she said, interlocking her fingers. ‘The Duke will tell you where you must go.’
‘I wouldn’t presume to ask you if you know where Lord Edward is, Madame.’
‘It would be a waste of time, would it not?’ she smiled wildly.
‘His papers, Madame. I must ask you for his papers.’
‘I suppose you’ll find whatever there is whether I give them to you or not. My husband does not leave his papers with me. I have some few of my own of no importance.’
She went to a desk, unlocked it, began to take the papers out, then seemed to change her mind, and turning back, said to Major O’Kelly:
‘Forgive me, sir, I really have not the strength. I was abed when you came. I must sit down. Go through the papers yourself. I dare swear you will find nothing treasonable there.’
Frowning and biting his lip, for he disliked his task the more as he proceeded with it, the officer went to the desk, gathered up the papers, which were intermingled with trifles that he found it hard to touch, a few dried flowers tied with a silk thread, a child’s leather shoe, a little sketch of a small house, a few flower roots awaiting the spring. He half made to close the desk. ‘It is no work for a soldier; they ought to send a magistrate.’
‘But I’d rather, sir, deal with you,’ said Pamela. ‘Please take what you wish.’
In silence Major O’Kelly gathered up the papers. He was relieved on glancing at a mirror in front of him, to see that Lady Edward, seated in exhausted fashion on the couch, was smiling. He knew then that he had nothing incriminating in his possession, and he was glad.
‘Have all the leaders of this so-called conspiracy been apprehended?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know, Madame. I believe they can’t find Mr. Emmett or Councillor Samson and some others. There’s — there’s warrants out for a good many. It’s a sad, wretched business. Pray, hold me excused, Madame.’
‘Why, you do your duty. I hope I do mine.’ She smiled wanly, twisting her hands together. The officer thought that she looked shockingly ill, and was eagerly taking his leave when she stayed him.
‘Can you tell me any news of — this conspiracy?’
‘Nay, Madame, very little. I believe that the papers seized at Mr. Bond’s were of great importance and have been carried to Council —’
‘Who was arrested?’
‘Why, Dr. M’Nevin at his own house, Sweetman the brewer, and Jackson the ironmonger —’
‘Well, I know none of them — and I dare swear that neither does my husband.’
Another party of soldiers brusquely entered the room. They had been searching Frescati, Leinster’s little country house. The Duke accompanied them. He was red in the face with vexation and humiliation, but Major Boyle, who was in charge of the dragoons, turned very civilly to Pamela.
‘Madame, you will be glad to hear,’ he said with great good-nature, ‘that our search is in vain. Lord Edward has escaped — we can find him nowhere.’
Pamela smiled. ‘I am as ignorant, sir, of his whereabouts as you can be.’
‘It is not our purpose, Madame, to press you as to whether that is true or no.’ Then, with a certain malice, the soldier added: ‘But our search has not been altogether in vain. We found this, Madame, under your pillow,’ and he showed her a little map of Dublin carefully marked and covered with notes in Lord Edward’s handwriting.
‘You searched my room!’ cried Pamela.
‘I could not prevent them,’ said her brother-in-law with great heat. ‘Pamela, I am greatly humiliated that this should happen in my house.’
‘Your Grace knows that we have a warrant,’ returned Major Boyle firmly. ‘We deal with high treason —’
‘But this lady’s condition — common humanity!’ stammered the Duke, who could scarcely command himself. ‘I tell you Dr. Lindsay is much alarmed for her. I have sent for him —’
‘I would not for the world agitate Lady Edward,’ said Major Boyle pleasantly. ‘If she will explain the map of the Castle, with all the routes marked in red?’
At that she flushed, bit her lips, and seemed to with difficulty hold back passionate words.
‘Can you tell us anything of it, Madame?’ insisted the officer.
‘It is a little map a clever gunsmith made for my husband; he is interested in such things. Lord Edward is a good engineer.’
‘It is a plan for surprising the Castle,’ said Major Boyle to Major O’Kelly. ‘A dangerous piece of evidence.’
‘You’ve no right to say as much, sir!’ spoke out the Duke, but Major Boyle interrupted:
‘If I might advise your Grace to be silent on this deplorable matter?’
Leinster put his handkerchief to his lips and turned away abruptly. Pamela did not speak, but as the two men moved towards the door after very civil farewells, she broke out: ‘I did not think you would search my very bed!’
Lady Louise Connelly broke in on Pamela’s misery. ‘What has been found? What has happened?’ she asked, aghast at the poor young wife’s scared face. The doctor had advised blood-letting, and she was deathly pale propped against her pillows, with her bandaged arm folded across her breast.
‘Nothing,’ she said, raising her drooping head. ‘They have not got him — I don’t myself know where he is — but they found a wretched map under my pillow. I had no time to hide it; I but got out of bed and they were there and had it.’
‘A map! But what’s that?’ cried Lady Louise distractedly.
‘I don’t know. I suppose it may be dangerous. It was, they say, a plan for surprising the Castle —’
‘For God’s sake tell me no more. Do not mention his name, my love!’ She seized the young woman’s hand. ‘I have the greatest good opinion of your sense and conduct. Do not give a soul, do not give myself, a hint of where he is — if you know it!’
‘I don’t; I know nothing. What am I to do? Tell me, I will obey you. I will be good, indeed I will — I can command myself.’
‘You must stay here at Leinster House, see everybody who waits on you, keep a strict silence about politics.’
‘Yes, yes, I will do that — and indeed, I know nothing.’
‘You must not suppose that any of the government people will insult you. Some underlings might if you went out, but here you are safe.’
‘As if I thought of that! Tell me what I must do for him. I am not well; it is almost impossible for me to entertain company — I would my child was born! Ah! I feel I should not have had the children — the eldest but three years old.’
‘But you must see everybody who is so good as to call on you, Pamela, to show that you are not plotting mischief — also that your sickness is not a sham! Oh, what a miserable business! And what horrors they say of him, that he invited the French over and that it was in a traitorous attempt to massacre all at the Castle! I’ll swear that isn’t true,’ added Lady Louise vehemently, gazing keenly at Pamela as if she would force her secrets out of her. ‘You know that it isn’t true, don’t you, my love?’
‘I know nothing,’ whispered Pamela from her pillows, feebly, but without faltering. ‘But anything Edward did — his least action — would be just — and noble.’
‘Yes, yes, I was sure! He could never be engaged in this horrid treason! I knew it —’ She checked herself, for Pamela seemed near fainting. ‘I must not agitate you. Edward is innocent, we must rest on that, and therefore they can’t touch him. Now, for you and your comfort. Do you want money, my dear?’ Lady Louise took some gold pieces out of her pocket and was about to put them on the little table beside Pamela’s bed, but she said;
‘Indeed I have plenty. I have some by me. Edward gave me money not long ago, to get out of Leinster House, for I told him it had grown detestable, and I would not stay here much longer. I wish to have a quiet home of my own for my lying-in. Oh, you must let me go away, indeed, indeed! I would rather be in Denzel Street.’ She paused, and the other woman was silent, respecting her bitter distress and her struggles to gain some composure. At length Pamela asked; ‘What will they do with these men? Mr. Bond, for instance? He was very rich and important, was he not? Something is going to be done to save him, I suppose. Edward would wish that. Edward loves him.’
‘Oh, my dear, you may believe everything is being done. Leinster will do what he can, but he has very little influence —’
‘Lord Castlereagh and Lord Moira used to be very kind to me,’ said Pamela distractedly.
‘I fear Lord Moira, too, has very little influence. Come, Pamela, we won’t talk of any of this. Be quiet and compose yourself, and if you don’t know where he is, why that’s the better for all of us. Oh, my dear,’ cried the poor lady, almost moved to tears, ‘I pity you exceedingly, and I don’t know what to do for you! Indeed I don’t, it is all such a wretched, miserable business! Poor Edward, first seduced and then betrayed!’
‘Betrayed!’ cried Pamela sharply. ‘There
was
a traitor then?’
‘Why, so I think there must have been, so they say, but who, no one knows. The whole thing has been kept a secret, so as not to get in the papers. I saw Lord Castlereagh myself. I rushed to him at once this morning and asked him much, and he said: “I fear I cannot answer your questions; you know I am bound to secrecy. Pray don’t believe any reports you hear, for upon my word, nothing has yet transpired.” He seemed distressed.’
The two women stared at each other. Pamela was the more calm. She said: ‘I will do as you tell me. I will see everybody. I am quite innocent of any wrong. I am sorry about the map, but after all it can’t mean much. I try to think about the children, and I’ll try to get well. I suppose I’d better go back to Denzel Street. I want to be quiet — you’ll understand that. You have all been so kind.’
Lady Louise kissed her, and as she did so, whispered, as if afraid of the sound of her own words:
‘If you
do
see him, or hear of him, pray him, for
your
sake, to have
pity
on us all and leave the country.’
Lord Edward Fitzgerald had been saved from arrest by the fact that he had turned the corner of Bridge Street in sight of Mr. Oliver Bond’s house at the moment that that gentleman was being hurried out a prisoner. Fitzgerald, instantly comprehending the misfortune that had overtaken his friends, turned back with his companions. He made his way through back alleys to Leinster House and was on the point of entering when Tony, who was lying in wait for him, told him that the soldiers were at that moment actually searching his apartments. Lord Edward, who had been separated from his companions (they thinking that they were less likely to attract attention singly than in a group) again turned through the back streets of Dublin, wondering where he should conceal himself. There were, of course, very many refuges open to him, but he passionately wished not to compromise any one. He finally decided to go to the house of Doctor Kennedy in Aungier Street, a man he thought very unlikely to be suspected.
As soon as Lord Edward was secure in his place of concealment at Dr. Kennedy’s house, he thought of how he might retrieve the disaster which had overtaken the United Irishmen. Dr. Kennedy was soon able to furnish him with the names of the men arrested, who included three important officials of the Leinster Executive.
‘I must,’ exclaimed Fitzgerald, ‘at once communicate with these men. I must keep in daily touch with them. I don’t intend to stay in your house, my dear Kennedy, and put you into danger, but I must remain in Dublin.’
‘They have a warrant out for you, my Lord,’ cried Kennedy; ‘they’ve been searching Leinster House.’
‘Poor Pamela, I hope they were civil, and my brothers too, it’s hard. But, Kennedy, I can’t leave Dublin.’ He said this with an almost childish simplicity which made his friend think with a pang: ‘Here is a man who can’t be saved!’
‘There is no need,’ continued Fitzgerald eagerly, ‘for our spirits to be overcast by this; the rising ought to take place no later than the end of May, say the twenty-third. It is impossible for the government to have come to any proceedings before then — and we will rescue our friends from the Castle, from Newgate, wherever they may place them — without the least difficulty.’
‘If you, sir, are not in the meantime arrested,’ protested Dr. Kennedy earnestly, ‘surely this is not our time. The government have evidently full knowledge of our proceedings — informer’s work!’
Edward Fitzgerald shook his head. ‘No, I can’t — I won’t — believe it that there’s a traitor at work, information laid! I dare swear it was no such thing. A mere chance. The town major, Sirr, he is very vigilant… I suppose he observed the meetings at Bond’s and took a chance to get the warrants from Swann. A traitor! That’s not to be thought of! Come, we mustn’t turn our minds in that direction. It is time for quick action; we have perhaps delayed too long. Tone was right, we ought to have struck in August. Well, we won’t lament now. I leave here to-night I must keep in touch with the Executive. It is only a question of a few weeks at most. Now, who shall I send for to employ as a messenger?’
Dr. Kennedy suggested one of the Sheares brothers. ‘No, they are too well known, they are probably marked already. I think I will send for Tom Reynolds.’
‘You’re sure of him? Why wasn’t he at Bond’s?’
‘Why, yes, as sure as one man can be of another,’ remarked Fitzgerald. ‘He’s been in the affair from the first. He knows everything; he is quick and intelligent. He did not come forward so much as the others, he passes more as a young man about town. His gamblings, his dissipations, and his appearances at Rotunda have put the government off the scent. Yes, I’ll send for Tom Reynolds. As for his not being at Bond’s, well, I was not there myself!’