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Updated: June 19, 2025
Venner sought to catch the eye of the victor, and saw in Pearse a reflection of the feelings that had possessed himself. John Pearse showed every sign of horror and awakened sanity that had marked his own expression before the fatal fight had started. Their eyes met, and there was no challenge in them.
"Lay her in the companionway on the lounge," said Venner. He ran to the saloon and brought up wine. He bathed her temples and wrists with the liquor, and forced some between her blue lips. And Pearse chafed her hands and patted them, gazing down at her in silent awe. "Venner," he whispered, when her eyes refused to open, "we must let this settle the score against her.
And not until then did Venner and Pearse awake to the true artistry of the woman; for here, instead of making of Tomlin a raging foe, willing to plot with all the power of his alert brain for their ultimate release, she had aroused a demon of black jealousy in him which promised to set all three by the ears.
All the aspirations of such idealists have been regarded as criminal by the class for which Miss Somerville and her cousin speak criminal and menacing to those who, holding the power, arrogated to themselves a monopoly of loyalty. They have always conceived of Pearse and his like as thirsting for their blood.
Sincerer words were never spoken, nor, I think, a better justified forecast. Where Redmond and all of us were wrong was that we underestimated the possibility of accomplishing what Pearse ultimately accomplished, even when assisted by the widespread disillusionment and sense of betrayal which was the atmosphere of 1916. But no one in Ireland in 1912 thought of a separatist rebellion.
The purple banners waved ecstatically and the cheers for Erskine thundered out. Neil was slapping Stone wildly on the knee. "Hold on," protested the left end, "try the other. That one's a bit lame." "Isn't Pearse a peach?" said Neil. "Oh, but I wish I was out there!" "You may get a whack at it yet," answered Stone. "There goes a jab at the line." "I may," sighed Neil.
As Venner's brows darkened, so did John Pearse conquer his first flush of self-contempt and put on a smile that irradiated his usually serious face. And Tomlin brightened, too, waiting in what patience he could muster for his turn, which must come next. To him Dolores turned, cup in hand, and rising at the same time gave him his wine with a brief: "Here, drink, too. I must leave thee a while."
"Old Pearse seemed to think this over, never moving on his pillows. 'You don't know Zack, he said; 'I'm sorry for you, and I'm sorry for Rick Voisey's daughter; but you don't know Zack. "'Sorry! groaned out John Ford; 'he's stolen my child, and I'll punish him. "'Punish! cried old Pearse, 'we don't take punishment, not in my family.
At that moment no one heeded his utterance, nor the speech, also in Irish, of Professor John MacNeill from another platform, which went, as its speaker was destined to go, half the way with Pearse. But Redmond never attempted to conceal the existence of this element in Ireland.
Dan stammered: "Thank you, Mr. Pearse; I'm a better man on a horse than in a boat, but thank you." Cornered in this way, he's a shy, soft-hearted being. Pearse smiled his thanks. "Wednesday, then, at ten o'clock; you shan't regret it." "Pertinacious beggar!" I heard Dan mutter in his beard; and found myself marching down the lane again by Pearse's side.
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