Tom Burke Of "Ours" Volume I Part 22

"For which, Toby,--the crops or the croppies?"

"Yes, sir," replied Toby, with a most provoking look of idiocy. "And you won't buy Darby sir?" rejoined he, flouris.h.i.+ng the printed placard. "No matter; here 's the whole, full, thrue, and particular account--" And so he turned the angle of the building, and I could hear his voice mingling with the street noises as he wended his way down Dame Street.

The major looked after him and smiled; and brief as was that smile, I saw in it how thoroughly he was duped.

"Come, sir, follow me, if you please," said he, addressing me.

I mounted a flight of old and neglected stairs, and entered an anteroom, where, having waited for a few seconds, the major whispered an order to the porter, and pa.s.sed on to the inner room, leaving me behind.

As Major Barton pa.s.sed out by one door, the porter turned the key in the other, and placing it in his pocket, drew his chair to the window and resumed the newspaper he was reading when we entered. How long I waited I cannot say. My thoughts, though sad ones, chased each other rapidly, and I felt not the time as it pa.s.sed. Suddenly the door opened, and I heard my name called. I drew a deep breath, like one who felt his fate was in the balance, and entered.

The room, which was plainly furnished, seemed to serve as an office. The green covered table that stood in the middle was littered with letters and papers, among which a large, heavy-browed, dark-featured man was searching busily as I came in. Behind, and partly beside him, stood Barton, in an att.i.tude of respectful attention; while, with his back to the fire, was a third person, whose age might have been from thirty-five to forty. His dress was in the perfection of the mode: his topboots reaching to the middle of his leg; his coat, of the lightest shade of sky-blue, was lined with white silk; and two watch chains hung down beneath his buff waistcoat, in the acme of the then fas.h.i.+on. His features were frank and handsome, and saving a dash of puppyism that gave a character of weakness to the expression, I should deem him a manly, fine-looking fellow.

"So this is your 'Robespierre,' Major, is it?" cried he, bursting into a laugh, as I appeared.

Barton approached nearer to him, and muttered something in a low, mumbling tone, to which the other seemed to pay little if any attention.

"You are here, sir," said the dark-featured man at the table, holding in his hand a paper as he spoke, "you are here under a warrant of the Privy Council, charging you with holding intercourse with that rebellious and ill-fated faction who seek to disturb the peace and welfare of this country,--disseminating dangerous and wicked doctrines, and being in alliance with France--with France--What 'a that word, Barton?--to--"

"In two words, young gentleman," said the young man at the fire, "you are charged with keeping very bad company, learning exceedingly unprofitable notions, and incurring very considerable present risk. Now I am not disposed to think that at your age, and with your respectable connections, either the cause or its a.s.sociates can have taken a very strong hold of your mind. I am sure that you must have received your impressions, such as they are, from artful and designing persons, who had only their own ends in view when involving you in their plots. If I am justified in this opinion, and if you will pledge me your honor--"

"I say, Cooke, you can't do this. The warrant sets forth--"

"Well, well, we 'll admit him to bail."

"It is not bailable. Right Honorable," said Barton, addressing the large man at the table.

"Phelan," said the younger man, turning away in pique, "we really have matters of more importance than this boy's case to look after."

"Boy as he is, sir," said Barton, obsequiously, "he was in the full confidence of that notorious French captain for whose capture you offered a reward of one thousand pounds."

"You like to run your fox to earth. Barton," replied the Under-Secretary, calmly, for it was he who spoke.

"In alliance with France," continued the dark man, reading from the paper, over which he continued to pore ever since, "for the propagation--ay, that's it--the propagation of democratic--"

"Come, come, Browne; never mind the warrant. If he can find bail--say five hundred pounds--for his future appearance, we shall be satisfied."

Browne, who never took his eyes from the paper, and seemed totally insensible to everything but the current of his own thoughts, now looked up, and fixing his dark and beetling look upon me, uttered in a deep, low tone,--

"You see, sir, the imminent danger of your present position, and at the same time the merciful leniency which has always characterized his Majesty's Government,--ahem! If, therefore, you will plead guilty to any transportable felony, the grand jury will find true bills--"

"You mistake, Browne," said Cooke, endeavoring with his handkerchief to repress a burst of laughter; "we are going to take his bail."

"Bail!" said the other, in a voice and with a look of amazement absolutely comic.

Up to this moment I had not broken silence, but I was unable to remain longer without speaking.

"I am quite ready, sir," said I, resolutely, "to stand my trial for anything laid to my charge. I am neither ashamed of the opinions I profess, nor afraid of the dangers they involve."

"You hear him, sir; you hear him," said Barton, triumphantly, turning towards the Secretary, who bit his lip in disappointment, and frowned on me with a mingled expression of anger and warning. "Let him only proceed, and you 'll be quite satisfied, on his own showing, that he cannot be admitted to bail."

"Bail!" echoed the Right Honorable, whose faculties seemed to have stuck fast in the mud of thought, and were totally unable to extricate themselves.

At the same moment, a gentle tap was heard at the door, and the porter entered with a card, which he delivered to the Secretary.

"Let him wait," was the brief reply, as he threw his eyes over it."

Captain Bubbleton!", muttered he, between his teeth; "don't know him."

I started at the name, and felt my cheek flush. He saw it at once.

"You know this gentleman, then?" said he, mildly.

"Yes; to his humanity I am indebted for my life."

"I think I shall be able to show, sir," said Barton, interposing, "that through this Burke's instrumentality a very deep scheme of disaffection is at this moment in operation among the troops in garrison. It was in the barrack at George's Street that I apprehended him."

"You may withdraw, sir," said the Secretary, turning towards me. "Let Captain Bubbleton come in."

As I left the room, the burly captain entered; but so flurried and excited was he, that he never perceived me, as we pa.s.sed each other.

I had not been many minutes in the outer room when a loud laugh attracted me, in which I could distinctly recognize the merry cadence of my friend Bubbleton; and shortly after the door was opened, and I was desired to enter.

"You distinctly understand, then, Captain Bubbleton," said Mr. Cooke, "that in accepting the bail in this case, I am a.s.suming a responsibility which may involve me in trouble?"

"I have no doubt of it," muttered Barton, between his teeth.

"We shall require two sureties of five hundred pounds each."

"Take the whole myself, by Jove!" broke in Bubbleton, with a flourish of his hand. "In for a penny,--eh, Tom?"

"You can't do that, sir," interposed Barton.

The Secretary nodded an a.s.sent, and for a moment or two Bubbleton looked nonplussed.

"You 'll of course have little difficulty as to a co-surety," continued Barton, with a grin. "Burke of 'Ours' is sufficiently popular in the Forty-fifth to make it an easy matter."

"True," cried Bubbleton, "quite true; but in a thing of this kind, every fellow will be so deuced anxious to come forward,--a kind of military feeling, you know."

"I understand it perfectly," said Cooke, with a polite bow; "although a civilian, I think I can estimate the esprit de corps you speak of."

"Nothing like it! nothing like it, by Jove! I 'll just tell you a story, a little anecdote, in point. When we were in the Neelgharries, there was a tiger devilish fond of one of ours. Some way or other, Forbes--that was his name--"

"The tiger's?

"No, the captain's. Forbes had a devilish insinuating way with him,--women always liked him,--and this tiger used to come in after mess, and walk round where he was sitting, and Forbes used to give him his dinner, just as you might a dog--"

The Castle clock struck three just at this moment. The Secretary started up.