The Storyteller

New Zealand Tablet, 11 December 1919, Page 3

The Storyteller

By William Carleton.

WILLY REILLY AND HIS DEAR COLEEN BAWN. (A Tale Founded upon Fact)

CHAPTER Vlll.—(Continued.) After these men went away, Reilly, having waited a few minutes, until he was satisfied that they had actually, one and all of them, disappeared, came down from the tree, and once more betook himself to the road. Whither to go he knew not. in consequence of having received his education abroad, his personal knowledge of the inhabitants belonging to the neighborhood was very limited. Go somewhere, however, he must. Accordingly, he resolved to advance, at all events, as far as ho might be able to travel before bed-time, and then resign himself to chance for a night's shelter. One might imagine, indeed, that his position as a wealthy Roman Catholic gentleman suffering persecution from the tool and scourge of a hostile Government, might have calculated upon shelter and secrecy from thoso belonging to his own creed. And so, indeed, in nineteen cases out of twenty, he might; but in what predicament should he find himself, if the twentieth proved treacherous! And against this he had no guarantee. That age was peculiarly marked by the foulest personal perfidy, precipitated into action by rapacity, ingratitude, and the blackest ambition. The son of a Roman Catholic gentleman, for instance, had nothing more to do than change his creed, attach himself to the Government, become a spy and informer on his family, and he ousted his own father at once, out of his hereditary property; an ungrateful and heinous proceeding that was too common in the times of which we write. Then, as to the people themselves, they were, in general, steeped in poverty and ignorance, and this is certainly not surprising, when we consider that no man durst educate them. The . Government rewards, therefore, assailed them with a double temptation. In first, the amount of it —taking their property into consideration —was calculated to grapple with and overcome their scruples; and in the next they were certain by their treachery to secure the protection of Government for themselves.

Such, exactly, was the state of the country on the night when Reilly found himself a solitary traveller on the road, ignorant of his destiny, and uncertain where, or in what quarter he might seek shelter until morning.

Ho had not gone far when he overtook another traveller, with whom ho entered into conversation.

"God savo you, my friend." "God save you kindly, sir," replied the other; "was not this an awful night?" "If you may say so," returned Reilly, unconsciously, and for the moment forgetting himself, "well may I, my friend." .

Indeed, it is probable that Reilly was thrown somewhat off his guard by the accent of his companion, from which he at once inferred that he was a Catholic.

"Why, sir," replied the man, "how could it be more awful to you than to any other man?" "Suppose my house was blown down," said Reilly, "and that yours was not, would not that "be cause sufficient?"

"My house!" exclaimed the man, with a deep sigh; "but sure you ought to know, sir, that it's not every man has a house."

"And, perhaps, I do know it." "Wasn't that a terrible act, sir, the burning of Mr.

Reilly's house and place?" "Who's Mr. Reilly?" asked the other. "A Catholic gintleman, sir, that the soldiers are afther," replied the man. "And perhaps it is right that they should be after him. What did ho do? The Catholics are too much in the habit of violating the law, especially their priests, who persist in marrying Protestants and Papists together, although they know it is a hanging matter. If they deliberately put their necks in tho noose, who can pity them?" }:; i v-■""• r??iv; y~-n?-

"It seems they do, then," replied tho man in a subdued voice "and, .what is still more strange, it very often happens,,that'.persons of their own creed are somewhat too ready toi, come down wid a harsh word upon 'em." "Well, my friend)" responded Reilly, "let them, not deserve it; let .them, obey r the law."

■■-;, And are you of opinion, sir,'' asked the "with a significant emphasis upon the personal pronoun, which we have put in italics—"are you ' of opinion, sir, that obedience to the law is always a security to either person or property?" The direct force of the question could not be easily parried, at least by Reilly, to whose circumstances it applied so powerfully, and he consequently paused for a little to shape his thoughts into the language he wished to adoptthe man, however, proceeded: 'I wonder what Mr. Reilly would say if such a question was put to him?" _ "I suppose," replied Reilly, "he would say much as I say— neither innocence nor obedience is always a security under any law or any constitution either " " His companion made no reply, and they walked on for some time in silence. Such, indeed, was the precarious state of the country then, that, although the stranger from the opening words of their conversation, suspected his companion to be no other than Willy Reilly himself, yet -a hesitated to avow the suspicions he entertained of his identity, although he felt anxious to repose the fullest confidence in him; and Reilly, on the other hand, though perfectly aware of the true character of his companion was influenced in their conversation by a similar feeling Distrust it could not be termed on either side, but simply the operation of that general caution which was generated by the state of the times, when it was extremely difficult to know the individual on whom you could place dependence. Reilly's generous nature, however, could bear this miserable manoeuvring no longer. "Come, my friend," said "he, "we have been beating about the bush with each other.to no purpose; although I know not your name, yet I think I do your profession." I would llold a wager," replied the other, "that Mr. Reilly, whose house was burned down by a villain this night, is not a thousand miles from me." "And suppose you are right?" "Then, upon my . veracity, you're safe, if I am. It would ill become my cloth and character to act dishonorably or contrary to the spirit of my religion. 'Non ignara mali miseris succurrcre disco.' "You see, Mr. Reilly, T couldn't make use of any other gender but the feminine, without violating prosody; for, although I'm not so sharp at my Latin as f was, still I couldn't use ignan/.s, as you see, without fairly committing myself as a scholar; and indeed, if I went to that, it would surely be the first time I have boon mistaken for a dunce."

The honest priest, now that the ice was broken, and conscious that he was in safe hands, fell at once into his easy and natural manner, and rattled away very much to the amusement of his companion. "Ah," he proceeded, "many a character I have been forced to assume." "How is that?" inquired Reilly. "How did it happen that you were forced into such a variety of characters?" "Why, you see, Mr. Reilly— and maybe I had better not be naming you aloud —walls have ears, and so may-hedges. How, you ask? Why, you see, I'm not registered, and consequently have no permission from Government to exercise my functions." "Why," said Reilly, "you labor under a mistake, my friend tho Bill for registering Catholic priests did not pass: it was lost by a majority of two. So far, make your mind easy. The consequence is, that if .you labor under no ecclesiastical censure you may exercise all the functions of your office — is, as well as you can, and as far as you dare."

"Well, that same's a comfort," said the priest; "but the report was, and is, that we are to be registered. However, be that as it may, I have been a perfect Proteus. The metamorphoses of Ovid were nothing to mine. I have represented every character in society at large: to-day I've been a farmer, and to-morrow a. poor man, sometimes a fool —a rare character, you know, in this world —and sometimes a fiddler, for I play a little."

"And which character did you prefer, among them all?" asked Reilly, with a smile which he could not repress.

"O troth, you needn't ask that, Mr. hem —you needn't ask that. The first morning I took to the fiddle, I was about to give myself up to the Government, at once. As for my part, I'd be ashamed to tell you how I sent those that were unlucky enough to hear my music scampering across the country." "And, pray, how long is that since?" "Why, something better than three weeks, tho Lord pity me!" . . '

"And what description of dress did you wear on that occasion?" asked Reilly. -v .--.- .... ■ -■- "Dress —why, then, an old yellow caubeen, a blue frieze coat, and—movrone, —a striped breeches! And the worst of it was, that big Paddy -Mullin, from Mullaghmore, having met me in old Darby Doyle's, poor man, where

I went to take a little; refreshment, ordered in"something to eat, and began to make me '-play for him. There was a Protestant in the house, too, so that I couldn't tell him who I was, and I accordingly began, and soon cleared the house of them. God bless>ou, sir, you could little dream of all I went through. I was one day set in the house I was concealed in, in the town of Ballybrogan, and only for the town fool, Art : McKenna- I suppose I'd have swung before this." :.-:.'• ".■';-'*■-:.' -■::• ■.--/■. :

"How was that?" asked Reilly. \; "Why, sir, one day, /I; got the hard word' that they would be into the house, where I was, in a few minutes. To escape them in my own dress I knew was impossible; and what was to be done? The poor fool, who was as true as steel, came to our relief. 'Here,' said he, 'exchange wid me. I'll put on your black clothes, and you'll put on my red ones' —he was dressed like an old soldier 'then I'll take to my scrapers, and while they're in pursuit of me, you can escape to some friend's house, where you may get another dress. God knows,' said he, with a grin on, him I didn't like, 'it's a poor exchange on my part. You can play the fool, and cock.your cap, without anyone to ask you for authority,' says he; 'and if I only marry a wrong couple I may be hanged. Go off, now. Hould your head well up, and imitate your betthers.' Well, sir, out I walked, dressed in a red coat, .military hat, white kneebreeches, and black leggings. As I was going out, I met the soldiers. 'ls the priest inside Art?' they asked. I pointed in a wrong direction. 'Up by Kilibray*?' I nodded. They first searched the house, however, but found neither priest nor fool; only one of them, something sharper than the rest, went out of the. back door, and saw unfortunate Art, dressed in black, running for the bare life. Of course they thought it was me they had. Off they started; and a terrible chase Art put them to. At last he was caught, after a run across the country of about four miles; but ne'er a word came out of his lips, till a keen fellow, on looking closely at him, discovered the mistake. Some of them then were going to kill the poor fool; but others interfered, and wouldn't allow him to bo touched; and many of them laughed heartily, when they saw Art turned into a clergyman, as they said. Art, however, was no coward, and threatened to read every man of them out from the altar. 'l'll exkimnicato every mother's son of you,' said he. 'l'm a reverend clargy; and by the contents of my soger's cap, I'll close tho mouths on your faces, so. that a blessed pratie or a boult of fat bacon will never go down one of your villainous throats again; and then,' he added, 'l'll sell you for scarecrows to the Pope o' Rome, who wants a dozen or two of .von to sweep out his palace.' It was then, sir, that, while 1 was getting out of my red clothes, I was transformed again but indeed, the most of us are so now, God help us!"

They had now arrived at a narrow part of the road, when the priest stood.

"Mr. Reilly," said he, "I am very tired; but as it is, we must go on a couple of miles further, until we reach Glen Dim, where, I think, I can promise you a night's lodging, such as it will be."

"I am easily satisfied," -replied his companion, "it would be a soft bed that would win mo to repose, on this night, at least." "It will certainty be a rude and a rough one," said the priest, "and there will be few hearts there free from care, no more than yours, Mr. Reilly. Alas! that I should bo obliged to say so in a Christian country." "You say you are fatigued," said Reilly; "take my arm. I am strong enough to yield you some support." The priest did so, and they proceeded at a slower pace, until they got . over the next two- miles, when the priest stopped again.- - . "I must rest a little," said he, "although we are now within a hundred yards of our berth for tho night. Do you know where you are?" "Perfectly," replied Reilly, "but, good heavens! sure there is neither house nor home within two miles of us. We are in the moors at tho very mouth of Glen Dhu."

"Yes," replied his companion, "and I am glad wo are here."

The poor hunted priest felt himself, indeed, very much exhausted so much so, that if the termination of his journey had been' at a much longer distance from thence, he would scarcely have been able to reach it. "God help our unhappy Church," said he, "for she is suffering much; but still she is suffering nobly, and with such Christian fortitude as will make her days of trial and endurance the brightest in her annals. All that power and persecution can direct against us is put in force a thousand ways; but we act under the consciousness that Ave have God and truth on our side, and this gives us strength and courage ; to suffer. And if we fly, Mr. Reilly, and hide ourselves, it is not from any moral cowardice we do so. It certainly is : not ; true ..courage to expose our lives wan-

tonly and unnecessarily to the * vengeance of our enemies. Read the Old Testament and history, and you will find how many good r and pious men have sought shelter in the wildernesses : and caves, as we have done. The truth is, we feel ourselves called; upon, for the sake of our suffering and neglected flocks, to remain in the country, and to afford them all the consolation and religious support in our power, God help them." ~ .. -•-••.-/.• ■■■ ,- "I admire the justice of your sentiments," replied Reilly, "and the spirit in which they are expressed. In'deed, I am of. opinion, that if those who foster and stimulate this : detestable spirit of persecution against you, only knew how certainly and surely it defeats their purpose, by -r cementing your hearts and the hearts of your flocks together, they would not, from principles even of worldly policy, persist in it. The man who attempted to break down the arch by heaping additional weight upon it, ultimately found that the greater the " weight the' stronger the arch; and so I trust it will be with us." "It would seem," said the priest, "to be an attempt to exterminate the religion of the people, by depriving .them of their pastors, and consequently of their Church, in order to bring them to the impression that, upon the principle of any Church being better than no Church, they may gradually be absorbed into Protestantism. This. seems to he their .; policy; but how can any policy, based upon such persecution, and so grossly at variance with human liberty, ever succeed? As it is, we go out in the dead hours of the night, when even persecution is asleep, and administer the consolations of religion to the sick, the dying, and the destitute. Now these stolen visits are sweeter, perhaps, and more efficacious, than if they took place in freedom and the open day. Again, we educate their children in the principles of their creed during the same lonely hours, in waste houses, where we are obliged to keep the windows stuffed with straw, or covered with blinds of some sort, lest a chance discovery might ensue. Such is the life we lead a life of want, and suffering; but we complain not; on the contrary, we submit ourselves to the will of God, and receive this severe visitation as a chastisement intended for our good." The necessities of our narrative, however, compel us to leave them here, for the present; but not without a hope that they found shelter for the night, as wo trust we shall "be able to show.

(To be continued.)