The red leaguers

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Chapter I The Bark Of The Fox

I WAS leaning over the gate, smoking idly and watching the stars. The night was chill somewhat, and full of the brooding presence of spring ; fragrant, fresh, and wonderfully quiet. Between me and the stars seemed no further and no lonelier than between me and the mountain lying dim away in the west, with lights twinkling on its face and the long back of it stretched in the shine of a waning moon. Nothing stirred in the wide-spreading country-side ; even the dogs for once had gone asleep. Peace lay among all the hills, and among the hedges ; was folded round each humble cottage set there in the brooding fields. Yet within the cottages, I knew, was no peace, and their doors were closed on strange ferment about the hearthstones. Rumours of plotting were in the air. Hungry eyes were gleaming fiercely in many a home, wintry discontent now kindled within them to madness of rebellion. Within gunshot, that lovely night, I could have lifted a hundred latches and surprised treason by a hundred firesides. Only my humour, that night, prompted no such adventuring. I felt peacefully inclined. Health was reviving in me with the new spring. My spirits ran high. I called no man enemy just then ; not even the man who shadowed

A my primrose path. Idly I stood watching the stars and thinking of her who was my star.

In a while a foot sounded on the road, and turning I saw a man come up between the hedges. Slowly he came, his feet blundering over the stones, head bent, and hands under his coat-tails ; then stopped at the gate and faced me.

" Good evenin*," said he.

" Good evening," I answered.

" It's great weather," he said and looked at the moon, twisting his face across his shoulder.

" The best," I replied ; then struck a match on the gate and held it to my pipe.

Its light fell on the man's face, flashing it into sudden distinctness. I remembered it instantly ; indeed its features might not easily be forgotten. It was wrinkled, sallow, sharp, with high cheek bones and a drooping nose ; liad little narrow eyes that pierced deep, a wide, thin-lipped mouth and bushy red whiskers — the face of an old grey fox, furtive, fathomless, cunning. Just a glimpse I had across my pipe ; then :

" You'll be knowin' me," said the fox, asserting more than questioning.

I dropped the match. " Well, partly," I said. " I've seen you before, but when I don't know ; and I don't know your name."

" To be sure. Just so now." He paused with his eyes on the moon ; turned quickly. " Well, would the name of Patrick Moran be helpin' ye ? " was his word.

It would be helping me. Often I had heard of the man. By report, if not by acquaintance, I knew him

THE BARK OF THE FOX 3

for the blackest sheep in three townlands. I nodded. " Yes," said I ; " your name's familiar."

"H'm. Vd be thinkin' that." He paused whilst he drew out a black pipe and lighted it ; then rested an elbow on the gate and stood looking across the fields. " Your health would be better," he remarked.

" Well, yes. I suppose it would. It*s kind of you to ask."

"Arrah, not at all." He waved his pipe stem. " Man, it's only common decency to ask. An' you'll be for Beyond " — he jerked a thumb eastwards — " in a week or two, I suppose ? "

I resented his inquisitiveness. " Maybe," I answered shortly ; " maybe not." But my curtness failed. He looked round.

" Maybe not," he drawled, his eyes hard upon me. " Is that so ? An' what now would be keepin' ye ? "

This was insolence. " My business," I snapped, and turned my back to the gate. But even contempt was lost upon the man. Slowly he shifted round, leant his arms on the rail and bent forward.

"Tell me," he asked in a sleek whisper, his face close to mine. " Has anyone been before me to give ye a word ? " I did not answer. " Has there ? " he asked again. Still I kept silent ; so he laid a hand on my shoulder ; and with that I turned quickly.

" Look here," I said, " I don't know what you mean, and I don't want to know, and I don't want your company. Are you blind that you can't see that for yourself? " He raised his hands.

" Whisht, whisht. I didn't mean to anger ye. I meant nothin'. I only wanted to make sure. Easy now, till I tell ye." He leant far across the gate, pushing his face towards me. " It's this way," he said. "A few of us over beyond" — he jerked his head backwards — " are wishful to speak with ye before ye go. We want your advice "

I interrupted him. " Over where ? " I asked.

" Aw, beyond in Armoy ; just across the fields a mile or so."

" And who are the few ? "

" Aw, just a few friends ; people you've met maybe and know well enough."

" People like yourself? " said I, not without a touch of scorn.

" Ay. Just myself an' a few like me."

I stood smiling. I knew what Patrick Moran's friends were like ; knew on what business they were likely to be assembled. Still, that was beside the question. " Well ? " I said.

He sucked noisily at his pipe ; then wiped its stem beneath his armpit and offered it to me.

" No, thank you," I said.

" As ye like." He spat on the road, put his pipe in his mouth again ; leant over the rail. " Well, as I was sayin', we're wishful to see ye, Mr Shaw. Your opinion would be helpful. There's some business transactions that's troublin' us."

" What transactions ? " I struck in.

" Ah, private transactions. You'll hear when you come."

" And supposing I don't come ? "

He looked at me hard, so hard that I might have felt his gaze. " Tell me this," he said. " Aren't ye a friend of your own country — the place that bred ye — the land you've got your feet on ? "

THE BARK OF THE FOX 5

"Surely," I answered.

" Well, then, you'll be comin* to see us," said Patrick ; and with that drew back from the gate and stood eyeing me across it.

I could only smile again. It was all exactly as I had imagined. In my mind's eye I could see Patrick and his friends assembled to discuss their business transactions, doors closed, windows barred, a sentry at the step, whiskey in the jar, and among the company a fine spirit of adventure. So clearly did I picture all this that I had small need, or desire maybe, to make the seeing real ; besides I might see more than I wanted to see, and hear more, and implicate myself in dangerous matters. I knew well what doings were afoot in this country of mine ; and just then had little mind to meddle with them. Suppose the police to come knocking at Patrick's door and I behind it? Suppose myself standing handcuffed before a magistrate ?

Pooh ! What law worth the name ran now in Ireland ? What policeman dared show his face in Armoy ? I might go in safety, stay in safety, come back diverted and perhaps something the wiser. I wanted change. There were a hundred things in this development of my country — things that in a few years had changed it almost beyond knowing — that I burned to understand. And now I had chance to see and know and understand ; chance that in a week or two would be gone for ever. Should I take it? What did Patrick and his friends want of me ?

And with that Patrick broke into my reflections.

" Well, we'll be seeing ye then," he said. " About what time would ye be comin' ? "

I stood wavering, vexed with the man yet inclined to do his bidding. " Oh, I don't know," was my answer. " I might come and I might not. Perhaps one of these nights Fll just wander across the fields."

" I know." Patrick stood silent a minute. " Maybe it would be safer for yourself, all the same," he went on in his foxy way, " if ye made some kind of an appointment. Saturday night would be suitin' ye, we'll say?"

I affected indifference. " Oh, yes. Fm not tied for time. I'm my own master."

" It's good to be you," said Patrick. " Well, we'll leave it at Saturday then at eight o'clock. Anyone will tell ye where I live, if ye don't know already. An' if there's no one at the door just give it three raps with your knuckles. Good-night to you, Mr Shaw."

And turning about Pat marched down the road, head bent and hands nursing his coat-tails.

Chapter II The Revelations Of Napoleon

ON the Saturday night I put a revolver in my pocket and started for Moran's. The way led from Lackan down about a mile to the crossroads below Hillside ; thence turned sharp from the borders of Gorteen straight out into the wilds of Armoy, over naked hills and past wastes of bogland. It was a gloomy night, chill and holding promise of rain ; and I went lonely between the hedges. Sometimes I met a man on the road who gave me good-evening, eyed me in passing and slouched on, or a girl carrying a basket, or a woman with a shawl over her head ; occasionally I had glimpses of lighted cottages by the wayside, or dim windows on the hills ; but for the most part I walked solitary, plodding on through the heavy dark, eyes on the road and feet grinding the stones. I had no fear, nor did I feel the loneliness ; for by my side walked always a shadowy figure and kept me company. I %ftw her face, heard her voice through the moan of rising wind, now low and tender, now harsh and mocking. Why was it not always tender? Why sometimes did she mock me, this peasant girl whom in a few idle weeks I had come to love so well ? Did she care for me, my Leah Hynes ; or did she but pretend to care, playing with me in her artless way, giving to another the affection I would have?

Another ? That lout of a Jan Farmer, that clodhopper from Emo ? By heavens, he had better take care ; and she too, my hillside charmer. I was not the man to be trifled with, or thwarted. In love as in war I might be desperate. Just another week she would have ; and then — well, a week would show. And aflame I strode through the dark.

In a while I turned from the broad road and went splashing along a boreen that ran uphill past the desolate fields. The wind whistled in the whitethorns, raindrops stung my face. Here and there I went floundering among the ruts, cursing myself for a fool at every step. Was there on the earth such a Godforsaken country as Ireland, so miserable a race as its people ? . Mud, rain, poverty, starvation, slavery : there was Ireland. A people downtrodden, hopeless, a people patiently enduring its miseries and finding happiness amid them : there was the Irish. And here was I, confounded for a fool, bent on diversion among the slaves. I could have laughed at thought of myself.

Some six furlongs up the boreen, a gate opened on a lane that led me wallowing between stunted hedgerows towards a light that shone on the hillside, and brought me at last to the yard which lay before Moran's house. The door was shut, no one stood before it ; so tramping noisily I came to the step and struck three times with my knuckles on the panels. There was a sound of shuffling feet, of clattering stools ; then a bolt rang back, the door opened, and Moran stood before me.

" Good evenin'," said he.

" Good evening," I answered ; and stepped past him into the kitchen.

It was a large room, with a clay floor and plastered walls. Above, the thatch showed between soot-browned rafters ; near the door stood a narrow dresser flanked with pots and tubs and baskets, facing it a turf fire burnt on the hearth, a paraflin lamp stood on a deal table, and about the floor, on stools and chairs, some five or six men, a woman and three children, sat hunched in the drifting smoke. Moran bolted the door behind me. The stools clattered round the hearth. Half-blinded and near choking, I stumbled towards an empty chair that stood before the fire.

" Good evenin'," went the voices.

" Good evening," said I ; then pulled back the chair and sat down.

At first little was said. Sometimes one made a remark and another answered him ; at times a man rose in the smoke, stumbled to the hearth to light his pipe and stumbled back ; or one of the children whispered to its mother, or Moran building turf around the fire questioned me about the night The smoke was blinding. The heat was great. Wherever I looked keen eyes were hard upon me, quick with curiosity and suspicion. It was a strange, almost an uncanny experience. More than once I felt like rising quick and making for the door. Then of a sudden the fire blazed up, and with that the gloom lightened, talk sprang amid the smoke ; and pulling out my pipe I lighted it, crossed my knees, and fell to observing the company.

The woman was a weary-looking mortal with sleek lo THE RED LEAGUERS

black hair and a sallow face ; the children hung timid about her skirts, hungry-eyed all of them, tattered, unkempt. Moran the fox I have already described ; and the others resembled him something, gaunt, keenfaced Hillsiders, clad in patched frieze or coarse tweeds — all but one, a large fleshy man with deep grey eyes, a square clean-shaven jowl, big loose mouth and big protruding ears, bushy eyebrows and grizzled hair straggling beneath his hat. Also he was better clad than the rest ; wore leggings and a green nedktie, carried a silver watch-chain, and smoked a briar ^pQ» Him very soon I put down as leader of the company^ ' He directed the talk. The others deferred to him. He had the important air of one knowing his own superiority. He sat leaning back against the chimney jamb, hat tilted slightly and legs crossed ; nor did he once, no matter what the talk, take his eyes from my face. The company called him Christy, locally he was known as Big Christy ; in full his name was Christopher Muldoon.

We were discussing local topics — landlords, agents, crops, markets — when of a sudden Christy set wide his knees, rested his elbows upon them and leant towards me, his face on the slant and eyes twisted below his gathered brows. " Ye must be findin' this only a poor country, Mr Shaw," said he in his pointed way, his big voice rolling through the smoke, " after all your travels and adventures in the world."

I had not expected my doings in the world to be within Mr Muldoon's knowledge ; but I gave rumour its due. " Well, hardly that," I answered " Ireland's not the best place in the world, maybe ; but ^"

" There's worse you'd think," said Christy.

" Perhaps so," I answered cautiously. " It*s as good as can be expected."

" I know." Christy nodded. " Tell me, now, did ye find Cuba much of a garden the time ye were fightin* the Spaniards ? "

Clearly rumour went far in Armoy. " 'Twas warm enough, Mr Muldoon," said I with a laugh ; then, encouraged by the company, went on to describe my adventures in Cuba.

" Dear, oh dear," said Christy, when I had finished. "Such things to have lived through. Bedad, sir, you're a bit of a hero. An', tell me, did ye go to the Philippines after that to hunt down ould Aguinaldo ? "

Here was knowledge. "Ah no, Mr Muldoon," I said. " I missed the Philippines and ould Aguinaldo."

" But ye hit South Africst and the Boers," was Christy's retort ; and I could but laugh my acknowledgments. But Christy did not laugh ; only clasped his hands and shook his head at the floor.

" Ah, 'twas a villainous business," he muttered. "The poor unfortunate divils, with their wives an* childer took from them and themselves hunted like hares on the hills ! Och, no wonder we'd be pityin' the cratures. An' now they're under the same big foot as ourselves." He looked up. " Tell me, didn't ye find their country somethin' like this?" And Christy swept all Ireland within his arm.

" Well, yes — something, Mr Muldoon."

" I know. I was imaginin' that An' ye never had a notion that the Boers were a trifle like ourselves here-;— like Pat there, an' Ned, an* the rest of us? Had ye now ? "

Here was a question. I answered it warily, saying that Pat and Ned and the rest had assuredly many points in common with the Boers, more perhaps than I might enumerate.

" You'd say we were as good men mebbe ? " said Christy. ** As hardy, an' as intelligent, an* as quick in the eye an' hand ? Would ye, now ? "

" I would, Mr Muldoon."

'* An' you'd say mebbe " — Christy paused and looked me hard in the eyes — "that in their place we'd have done just as well, made as good a fight, shamed the power of all England an' brought her near to the dust ? Eh ? " said Christy, his eyes hard on mine.

That was another question, subtle, full of meaning. I began to see what was coming. But I was there for that ; so boldly I answered Christy as he would have me answer.

Then a murmur ran through the smoke, and loud Christy smote his leg with a hand. "By God, it's true," he shouted. "In their place we'd have done the same. Brave boys, brave boys ! You've gone down, but thanks to you an' all the rest the tyrant's on the brink ; an' now, please God, she'll go to glory. Think of her," shouted Christy, a fist upraised, his face blazing ; " think of her all them years ago an' think of her this mortal hour. Then the biggest tyrant of the crew an' the be-damdedst : now the shrinkinest cur that walks this earth. Look at her there with only the ships between her an' perdition. Russia waitin' to grab up India ; the States hungry" for Canada ; Germany ready with her new navy to spear the whale ; France ready with her armies on the cliffs an' her submarines in the harbours only waitin' for the word. All the world against her. Not a friend under the stars of heaven. An ould image of a statesman guidin' her. Her government gone to pot. Credit broken, trade goin' ; herself bankrupt a'most an' rotten to the heart. Oh, be the eternal King, she's done for. Limb be limb she'll drop away, colony be colony into the ocean, till only

the carcase is left ; an' then " With a significant

gesture Christy snapped his fingers at the floor and stamped England into the clay ; then, to the sound of shuffling feet and creaking stools and the applause of the company, sat back in his chair and mopped his face.

My own share in the applause was generous. Eloquence like Christy's was not heard often outside Ireland. I had enjoyed it. Its fire moved me ; its suddenness thrilled me ; its imaginative sweep stirred my envy ; nor could I say that truth was not in it. So I clapped my hands and bent towards Christy saying, "That's the talk for me, Mr Muldoon. By the pigs, it's great."

He looked swiftly it me. '* D'ye mean that ? " he asked.

" To be sure I do."

" Then — " He stopped ; looked across the hearth. " Wouldn't it be near them childer's bedtime, Mary ? " said he. And without a word Mary rose, took the childrep into the room that lay beyond the fire and closed the door.

So. Business was in hand, then. I heard the stools clatter nearer ; ^aw Moran the fox step to the vacant chair by the closed door; saw Christy set elbows on knees again and bend towards me.

" You've been keepin' your eyes open," he suggested, his voice sunk low, " the while you've spent these parts benefitin' your health? Doin' more, we'll say, than tryin' your devices wi' Jan Farmer's sweetheart ? "

Ha ! Was this what I had come for ? Were the business transactions to be Jan's ? I flushed angrily ; but Christy waved a hand.

" Whisht," he said. " You're slower than ye look. I'll put it plainer. In your travels about the country have ye noticed any change in it ? Would ye imagine that more was on foot than'd meet your eye ? "

I understood. " Yes," I said. " I have noticed, and I have imagined." I looked round at the figures bending over their knees in the smoke. " It would be hard to sit here, for instance, without imagining."

Christy nodded. "An' what now would ye be noticin' ? "

Briefly I told what I had noticed : the country flourishing, a spirit of nationality spreading, the people soberer, more reserved, anxious to know and to learn.

Christy nodded again. "Ay," he said. "Well, you've not been asleep mebbe. An' what now, if I may ask, is the thing you'd be imaginin' most ? "

I considered a minute ; then ventured boldly, "That the Boers have taught you all a lesson, Mr Muldoon, and that England may soon taste bitterness near home."

The stroke told. I heard the stools creak ; saw Christy look at Moran ; saw Christy bend nearer. " Tell me," he said. " Are you a friend of England ? "

<* Well— hardly."

" Of Ireland, then ? "

" If I wasn't, you'd not find me here," I answered.

"Wouldn't we." Christy sat reading me. "Suppose I called ye an English spy ? "

That was too much. I flared up. " Suppose I marked your ugly face ? "

But Christy never flinched. " Mark it," said he, in his insolent way.

" Yes, and I would too if you were worth it". I jumped to my feet " Look here," I said, " it wasn't for this I tramped the fields to-night I want none of your insults. I'm tired of your company. Come. Out of my way," I shouted to the figures that rose in the smoke and closed in before me. " Get back, you curs ! "

But they did not get back, only closed the nearer. So whipping out my revolver I stepped upon the hearth ; and with that Christy faced me, ^ook me by the shoulders, and shook me hard. " Man, you're a fool," he said. " Chut ! Can't ye see I was only testin' ye ? Come, put up that play-toy, an' sit down till I tell ye. Whisht wi' your nonsense, an' sit down, I say. Boys, to your places." And the stools creaked.

Well, I sat down, and Christy pulled up his chair ; and in his cautious way, with many a glance at the boys and many a look at Moran the fox, went on with his telling. It would weary you did I set down all his rigmarole ; its substance was this :

For long Ireland had been waking. Men at home and abroad — in Ireland, the States, in England — had been watching, working, planning, getting ready. A vast organisation of true Irishmen had been formed, with capable leaders at its head and branches spreading through the world ; through Ireland itself ran a huge confederacy, guided, controlled, with branches in every parish, offshoots in every Hillside home. One man was at the head ; under him were leaders, under them the Irish people. All was secret ; all were sworn. Never in the world before was known such a conspiracy. The plan was perfect. Every detail was complete. To-morrow The Man Above had but to give the word and the hilltops would blaze their signals to all the faithful. For years this had been in hand ; now the day was near. The people were ready. England stood bound hand and foot. One stroke and Ireland was free, a nation at last There was the secret of the change I had seen, there the meaning of what I had not seen but imagined. I had come to Ireland on the stroke of her supreme hour. Did I choose, work lay ready to my hand. " This minute," said Christy, his knees touching mine, his eyes quick on my face, " you've but to say the word, an' " He waved his hand an^ left the rest to me.

It was startling, but not surprising. Christy had but formulated what I had suspected. I had been 3ure something was moving in this new Ireland. She would have been untrue to herself and her history, if sooner or later, she had not tried once more to shake off the Saxon yoke. And now the Saxon was at bay within his ramparts, and the world was crouched, and Ireland had her chance.

Her chance ? Had she a chance ? Was all so complete that, even as Christy said, her hour was indeed near ? I doubted. I remembered past chances. I was used to Irish ways. I sympathised with my country, had longed often to see her people free, would give my life in her service ; but

Dead silence had fallen in the kitchen. All, I knew, were watching me ; waiting for my word, ready to act upon it. I took my eyes from the fire and looked at Christy.

" It*s a big venture," I said.

" No bigger than it's worth," he answered.

" It means a rising — a rebellion ? " I questioned.

" It means freedom, whatever the shape of it."

" Suppose you fail ? "

" There's no supposin*. We're sure. An* bad can be no worse."

" No," said I ; " perhaps not . . . There will be bloodshed."

" It depends. Blood's not what we want. But we're ready to give an' take it."

" I understand. And everything's ready ? "

" I've told ye," answered Christy. " You'll know more when ye ask to know."

I nodded. "But you wouldn't have me jump in the dark, Mr Muldoon ? "

" There's no dark," answered Christy. " An' there's no jumpin'."

" You mean I'm free ? "

" Every man's free — except ourselves. We bind no man. He binds himself."

I thought that a strange saying ; but did not question it, only turned to more practical things.

" You'll need arms ? " said I.

"There's no need where there's plenty," was the ready reply.

" Oh. And ammunition ? "

" Aw, there's more than stones in the hillsides," came back.

B

" I see. And there's a plan of campaign, I suppose ? "

" Ye need suppose nothin', I tell ye. Ye can know when ye want to know."

"But — " A sudden thought strack me. "Wliat about the Protestants, Mr Muldoon?" I asked, my mind busy with the past.

" They've been considered," answered Christy : " everyone's been considered. We'll fight no Protestants, an' hurt none — except they make us."

That was a new note in Hillside policy. It soothed me to hear it ; proved to me more than any other word of Christy's that wise men had shaped the conspiracy. " Well, I'm glad to know that, Mr Muldoon. For, as you know, I'm a Protestant myself."

"Ye needn't say it," spoke he. "There's nothin' about ye we don't know."

"Ah." My eyes were indeed opening. I was beginning to see how thoroughly this confederacy was doing its work. It was on my tongue to ask Christy a probing question ; but I desisted. Instead, said I, " But you know, Mr Muldoon, fengland is still a power."

"She was a power a while ago," he answered, "when a handful of Boer farmers defied the whole strength of her — ay, an' only missed beatin' her by a hair's breadth. Now, when she's crouchin', what d'ye imagine is her power against the whole of Ireland ? Ireland, I say. Irishmen, I'm tellin' ye ; not poor ignorant divils of Boers. Chut 1 What can she do? She can't spare a man. There's not three whole regiments this side the Channel, half the barracks are empty, and the last thing we're troubled with nowadays, thank God, is the face of a policeman. The fleet's tied, the army's tied, she's crouchin' on the cliffs. Do ? She's powerless. We've but to