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"Nebber here before, so help me Gad! me tink I know you me tink I recollect your handsome face I Lady Rodney, sar. Ah, piccaninny buccra! how you do?" said she, turning round to me. "Me hope to hab the honour to wash for you, sar," courtesying to O'Brien. "What do you charge in this place?" "All the same price, one bit a piece." "What do you call a bit?" inquired I.
I was brought up in this country, not being permitted to serve my own, and retain the religion of my forefathers. But to the question, Mr O'Brien, will you give your parole?"
"Ellen thinks so, I dare say," replied I, looking at my sister, who stood in the corner of the room, thinking O'Brien was really out of his senses, and still red with confusion.
"Indeed, but I am, my dear," replied O'Brien: "and so is this lad with me: and the favour which your sister requires is, that you help us over the water, for which service there are one hundred louis ready to be paid upon delivery of us." "Oh, mon Dieu! mais c'est impossible." "Impossible!" replied O'Brien; "was that the answer I gave your sister in her trouble?" "Au moins c'est fort difficile."
But many difficulties still remained to be overcome before he could boast of final victory. Con O'Neill, Manus O'Donnell, and many of their adherents were still threatening; Desmond, O'Brien of Thomond and the nobles of Munster generally could not be relied upon; while the Irish and Anglo-Irish of Connaught paid but scanty respect to the king or his deputy.
I did not, however, set off until a legal adviser had been sent for by General O'Brien, and due notice given to Lord Privilege of an action to be immediately brought against him for false imprisonment.
In speaking of the after-career of those assembled that night at McGrady's, I have sufficiently accounted for Michael O'Brien. Rickard Burke, who also assisted at the same gathering, was a remarkable personality, and one of the most astute men I ever met. He was a graduate of Queen's College, Cork, and an accomplished linguist.
Among the captives was Captain Richard O'Brien, whose ship, the Dauphin of Philadelphia, was taken July 30, 1785. He had a ready pen and, apparently, had unrestricted access to the mails. His letters were those of a shrewd observer and depicted a situation that bristled with perplexity.
"Bolton's opinion is that O'Brien was without doubt the man who fired at you, looking to the type of gentleman he is, and the fact that you ran into him immediately afterwards, and especially the fact that he actually does possess an old rook rifle. He thinks he may have done it out of sheer Irish deviltry, you offering so convenient a target, just as they pot landlords in his own happy country.
The hour of supper arrived without Bartle's returning, and Connor's impatience began to overcome him, when Fardorougha, for the first time, introduced the subject which lay nearest his son's heart. "Connor," he began, "I've been thinkin' of this affair with Una O'Brien; an' in my opinion there's but one way out of it; but if you're a fool an' stand in your own light, it's not my fault."
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