LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume IV, Issue 444, 16 November 1875, Page 3

LITERATURE.

* AN ADVENTURE IN IRELAND. ( Concluded.') 1 On your way to dine with Sir William Ayr, indeed! Very like a whale that, captain, but not quite so large, you understand !’ the sergeant said jeeringly. ‘ But if it’s all the same, you’ll dine at the Queen’s expense instead. Don’t try to be after humbugging us, my boy ! it won’t do. ’ ‘ But I tell you I am Lieutenant O’Gorman, just come homo to see my father at Cross House. You must know Squire O’Gorman,’ I cried, losing all patience. * Now, listen here, captain. We know the squire all right ; and Mr Ulic, his son, passed this way twenty minutes ago, riding Comet, that wc know on the road better than our own shadows ; no fear of our msg taking the chestnut. So come on, and no more nonsense.’

‘ Come home with me, ami ask any one ; they will soon satisfy you as to my identity,’ I urged. ‘ Now, captain, do you think I am a bigger fool than I look, or do I look a bigger fool than lam ? We have been waiting for you and this same gray mare for three mortal hours, and it is not likely that >ve are goimx to walk live miles out of our way to give you a chance of escaping. We have netted you very nicely, and I have no doubt but we will find something valuable on you when we come to search by-and-by. ’ ‘ Well,’ I said, as a last resource, ‘ let us call at Sir William’s, and if Lieutent O’Gorman is there, I’ll give in.’ ‘ Now, what on earth is the use of bothering, captain ? Didn’t I tell you I saw Mr Ulic ride by on Comet. 1 spoke to him, and ho answed me. Why continue the delusion with me ?’

‘ But I have Sir William’s invitation in my pocket,’ I said, after vainly attempting to tell how Comet had been stolen ; every time I began that story, I was greeted with roars of sarcastic laughter. ‘ I’ll try and find the invitation, captain ; but that will prove nothing, as strange things arc often found on strange customers like you—but it’s not convenient all the same, ” the sergeant added. ‘ Come on, my boys ; quick march ! it’s cold work idling here. ’

I n sheer desperation, I resigned myself to my fate, and in sullen silence continued my journey towards Limerick, not even condescending to ask who I was supposed to be. On passing the gates of Glenloe, 1 begged the sergeant to send one of the men up to ask if Captain Ayr was at home, and if he would come and speak to me ; which he consented to do, desiring the man also to ask if Lieutenant O’G orman was there. In ten minutes he returned, and told the sergeant that Captain Ayr had not come home, but that the lieutenant was there—just gone in to dinner. ‘ Now aren’t you the coolest and most unblushing villain unhung ?’ the sergeant asked quietly. ‘I believe you would have the impudence to meet a gentleman, and tell him to his face that he wasn’t himself. Perhaps you will come on peaceable now, captain ?’

1 nodded an assent, and we continued our march. It was bitterly cold, and I was growing hungry and tired. .1 resented the snail’s pace at which I had to ride ; but most of all, I resented the remarks of the men as to my dodges and impudence, and their supposed softness. We reached Limerick at last, and I hoped the magistrate, or whoever 1 would be brought before, might be possessed of a little common sense ; but, alas, it was ten o’clock when we reached the ‘ beautiful city ;’ and instead of magistrate or police inspector, I found myself ‘ run in’ to the country gaol, where I stormed, and raved, and threatened, and at last asked who 1 was.

‘ Captain William Casey, Fenian Centre, at your service,’the turnkey said. ‘Would you like to see your likeness ?’ And taking up the Hue and Cry, he read the following description : ‘ William Casey, height live ten inches, blue eyes, brown curly hair, dark whiskers and moustache, white even teeth ; last seen in evening dress, wearing white tie, gold studs, sleeve-links, and chain—a gray frieze overcoat, and white mufller round his neck. £IOO reward for his capture, or information that will lead to his capture. ’ I read the description over, and then looked at myself, and turned away with a sigh, and the settled conviction that I could never be certain of my own identity again ; I might be Ulic O’Gorman, but equally I might be Captain Casey, or any one else. There was my photograph in the live and Cry , perfect in every detail. I lay on the floor and tried to laugh at myself, but the effort was a miserable failure. I then tried to think over all the events of the evening calmly, but the effort was impossible ; and at last, utterly weary in mind and body, cold, hungry, and thirsty, 1 lay on my wretched little bed and fell asleep. The lirst experience of- prison life is not usually considered agreeable, yet I have no fault to find with Limerick gaol, for 1 slept soundly and dreamed pleasantly till ten o’clock the next morning, when 1 was roused by voices in my cell, and hearing my name mentioned in a familiar voice, I opened one eye and saw several gentlemen 1 would have called friends had I been myself, but being somebody else I did not make any advances, but watched them calmly. ‘ Hollo, Ulic ! —are you awake ? House up, old fellow,’ Captain Ayr said, shaking me.

I raised myself on one elbow, and ex amined him. You know me ?’ I said some what curiously.

‘ Know you, Ulie ? What an absurd question. What do you mean?’ Captain Ayr said. ‘Of course I know that you are Ulic O’Gorman—lieutenant in “ours.” ’

' Then you know more than I do,’ I replied. ‘ Last night, I was morally convinced that I was Captain William Casey : I had it, I assure you, Walter, on the best authority.’ ‘ Don’t be a fool, Ulic, but get up and come out of this den, and we’ll explain everything. It has been rather awkward for you, but it is an uncommonly good joke.’ ‘lt may be, but I do not quite see it, ’ I replied, as I followed Captain Ayr out of the cell, while the turnkey tried to hide his diminished head as we passed. Outside, we found my father, Sir William Ayr, the county inspector, and several other dignitaries of the law: and many confused explanations followed, to which I listened patiently. It appeared a ridiculously improbable story, but that it was true I knew only too well. Captain William Casey’s servant, who was no gther than the rascal Hennessy, was a brother to my father’s butler, and from him they learned ray movements. Casey, knowing that he Was suspected of being in the neighbourhood, and closely watched, formed the plan of stealing Comet, which he did while I was speaking to his servant, quietly leading the horse to a safe distance, and then mounting him. He passed the patrol of police without suspicion, and on reaching Glenloe, asked at the lodge if Captain Ayr had returned ; on the keeper replying in the negative, he rode boldly up to the house, and introduced himself as Lieutenant O’Gorman, relying on the fact of my long absence from home, and his remarkable likeness to me, for escape from detection. He had learned many things about our family from his servant, and made a most favourable impression on Sir William and his family. Hut about ten o’clock there was a sound of wheels and a ringing of bells, and Captain Ayr arrived most unexpectedly. After he had spoken to his family, he asked for O’Gorman, and then the lieutenant was missed. Sir William supposed that he had gone into the garden or conservatory to smoke a cigar ; but when half an hour passed, and he did not return, they began to feel uneasy ; and on questioning the servants, they learned that he had gone—not on Comet, but on one of Sir William’s horses. ‘ It’s most extraordinary,’ the captain said ; ‘ 1 never knew Ulic do such a thing before. Hollo ! what’s this ?’ On the drawing-room table, placed there by some mysterious agency, lay a card with the words written in pencil— ‘ Captain William Casey, with compliments, and thanks for a pleasant evening. ’ ‘ In a moment, ’ said Sir William, ‘ I saw what the dodge was ; and at five o’clock this morning we drove over to where your father was staying, and explained the circumstance to him, and then came on here, to get you out.’ ‘ And Captain William Casey ?’ 1 asked. ‘Escaped, by George ! got clean oil: no trace or tidings of him anywhere,’ cried Captain Ayr, ‘lie is about the cleverest and most audacious villain 1 ever heard of.’ ‘ Well,’ I said, ‘ I don’t know what you local authorities think of the Royal Irish Constabulary, but it seems to me that they just a trifle overdo the thing; I would much rather Captain Casey spent Christmas eve in Limerick gaol than Ulic O’Gorman.’ ‘Never mind, my boy ; you will laugh at this adventure some time,’ said my father. I thought it possible, but not very probable, and it has taken me seven years to see the joke. ‘ Do you know, Ulic, I can’t help admiring that Casey,’ Captain Ayr said. ‘lt was a daring thing of him to come and pass himself off for you; and he did it well too, old fellow. My sister Julia was loud in his praises, last night. Hut come along ; the sooner we all go to Glencoe the better.’ ‘lt seems to me that I am about the greatest sufferer so far,’ said Sir William ruefully, as we drove up the avenue. ‘ Captain Casey is a capital judge of horseflesh, if he is nothing else. I believe, O’Gorman, your father’s chestnut is about the best animal in the county ; but if there is a better, it’s my roan mare Firefly that Casey has taken.’ ‘lt’s so Irish,’ I said, ‘so essentially Irish, from beginning to end, and so absurd, that I can’t for the life of me help laughing. The idea of an officer in “ours” being arrested for treason felony—it’s a rare joke.’ ‘Especially the appropriating of my'Fire -' lly,’ interposed Sir William. ‘Still, looking at it what way you will, there is a humorous side to it. Who but an Irishman would risk his liberty for the sake of a practical joke !’ ‘ And who but an incorrigible Irishman would play the good Samaritan under such circumstances as Ulic did !’ said my father. ‘And certainly, no one but an Irishman would take it as well as O’Gormau does,’ cried Walter. ‘ Hut let us change the subject. Sometime or another, we will have a hearty laugh at the events of last night.’ Nearly seven years have passed away, and as 1 write this, Julia, my wife, is looking over my shoulder, my eldest boy is making frantic efforts to climb on to my knee, while a tiny little J ulia is running a fearful risk of having her neck broken by her uncle \\ alter, now Colonel Ayr ; and lam really a captain, and can afford to see the joke of that Fenian adventure, and relate it too.