Orange and Green: A Tale of the Boyne and Limerick. G. A. Henty

greed of English adventurers for Irish land; and, not content with having dispossessed the ancient owners of three-fourths of the cultivated land of the country, they want the remainder, and under the pretence that we, the descendants of the early settlers, are in sympathy with our Irish neighbours, they have marked us out for destruction, and already a great portion of our estates is in the hands of Cromwell's men. So gross have been the abuses, that the commission, which the king appointed to inquire into the seizure of our estates, only ventured to sit one day, for the proofs brought forward were so overwhelmingly strong that it was seen at once that, did the inquiry continue, it would be made manifest to all the world that justice could be satisfied by nothing less than a clear sweep of all those men who have seized our estates.

      "If Ireland rises in favour of King James, it will not be for any love for the Stuarts; but it will be to recover the land which has been illegally wrested from us, and which, if Dutch William and his Whig adherents gain the upper hand, will be taken from us forever. The religious element will, of course, count for much. Already we have suffered persecution for our religion; and, if the Whigs could have their way, they would stamp it out utterly, with fire and sword. Things have looked better, during the last five or six years, than they have done since Cromwell first put foot in Ireland. We have begun to hope for justice. Tyrconnell has stood up for us, and, with the goodwill of James, has gained many concessions. We have now what we never had before, an Irish army. The land thieves have been fairly alarmed, for they have seen that the long delayed justice will be done us at last. Many have sold back their lands to the original owners, and have left the country. Others are only holding out for better terms. Another ten years of James's reign, and things would have righted themselves; but, if the Dutchman ascends the throne of England, there is no hope for Ireland, save in the sword."

      "Well, we must hope it will not come to that," Colonel L'Estrange said. "I am ready to fight the battles of England on the Continent, but civil war, with all its horrors, sickens me; and civil war here is not like our civil war in England. There were no race animosities there, no memory of cruel wrongs on one side or the other. Men fought for a principle, but there were no atrocities committed, on either side, like those which have devastated Germany. The peasant ploughed the land, and the trader kept open his shop unmolested. It is true that, towards the end, there were confiscations of the property of those who still continued the strife, and a few executions of individuals; but, taking it as a whole, no war has ever caused so little suffering, to the people at large, as did the civil war in England; but assuredly, a war in Ireland now, like those which have gone before, would be marked by the foulest atrocities, massacres, and destruction on both sides."

      "Yes," Mr. Davenant said, "I must own that, for downright brutal and bloody ferocity, the wars in Ireland rival those of the Huns."

      Walter had listened in silence to this conversation. His father now turned to him.

      "Have you heard whether Larry has recovered from his adventure of yesterday as well as you have?"

      "No, father, I have not heard anything about it. I came out here directly I finished my breakfast. How are the people who were brought up here?"

      "They are going on well, Walter, but they were all so bruised, as they were being drawn up through the surf, that it will be some days before any of them can leave their beds.

      "How many had you on board, colonel?"

      "I did not see the list of passengers, but there were twelve or fourteen aft, and, from what I saw, I should think as many more forward. There were twenty-three men in the crew. I suppose, altogether, there were some fifty on board."

      "Are you going to make a long stay in Ireland?"

      "No; I shall only remain here a week or two. I am the bearer of some letters from the king to Tyrconnell; and that reminds me that I must be making my way on to Dublin."

      "I will ride in with you," Mr. Davenant said. "I must tell my friends this news that you bring. It seems to me to be most serious. I will have a horse round for you here, in half an hour, if that will suit you."

      "Perfectly," Colonel L'Estrange replied. "That will just give me time to walk round to the village, to see the lad you call Larry, for I could not go without thanking him for the share he had in preserving my life.

      "Perhaps you will go down with me, Walter, and show me his house?"

      When they reached the shore, they found the whole population of the village engaged in dragging up the spars, planks, and pieces of timber with which the rocks were strewn.

      "There is Larry," Walter said. "It is evident that there's nothing the matter with him."

      Larry was, indeed, just coming up, dragging a piece of timber behind him; while, in his left hand, he held a large bundle of fragments of wood, of different sizes, which, as well as the timber, he was taking home for firing.

      "Larry, come here. The English gentleman wants to speak to you."

      The boy dropped his wood, and came up.

      "My lad," Colonel L'Estrange said, "I am greatly indebted to you for your work of last night. Take this," and he placed a purse of ten guineas in Larry's hand.

      "And remember that I am still greatly your debtor, and that if, at any future time, you should be in a position in which my aid may be useful, you have only to let me know, and I will stand your friend."

      The sum appeared to Larry to be enormous.

      "Long life to yer honour, and it's proud I am to have been of service to such a grand gentleman. It's thankful I am for your kindness, and if ever you want a boy to do a job for you, it's myself that will be proud to do it. As to yesterday, I just came because the young squire tould me to, and thankful I am that he got back safe to shore, for, if we had been drowned, I don't know whatever I should have said to the squire."

      Two days after the shipwreck, Walter and John Whitefoot met at the place which they had agreed on, when they last saw each other four days before.

      "I heard of your brave deed on the night of the storm, Walter. Everyone is talking of it; and even my grandfather, who has seldom a good word for any of you at the Castle, said that it was a noble deed. It was as much as I could do not to say, 'Yes, he is a friend of mine;' for I felt proud of you, I can tell you."

      "It is all nonsense, John. I have often been out in a curragh in bad weather, though never in quite such a storm as that; but, once launched, she rode lightly enough, and scarce shipped a spoonful of water."

      "I should like to have been there," John said; "but I should have been no use. My people have always been against my going down to the sea, deeming it a pure waste of time, except that they let me go down to swim. I can do that well, you know; but they have always forbidden my going out in boats. Now, you see, it is proved that it is not a waste of time, for you have been able to save many lives. The thought must make you very happy."

      "Well, I don't know that it does, particularly," Walter said carelessly. "Of course, I was glad at the time, but I have not thought much about it one way or the other, since. You see, the news that has come has driven everything else out of our heads."

      "Is it true, then, the report that we heard yesterday, that William of Orange has set out for England?"

      "Yes, it is true enough; and I am afraid, by what I hear, that it is likely to cause all sorts of troubles."

      "I suppose," John said gravely; "and of course, in this matter my people think differently from yours. You know we agreed that we would never talk on these subjects, but I am afraid the time is coming when there will be nothing else to be talked of."

      "I am afraid so, too, John. My father thinks that there will be civil war again."

      "Of course my grandfather is delighted," John said quietly. "He has been greatly disturbed in his mind, for some months, owing to the leanings of King James towards the Irish, which seem to point to his having to give up no small portion of the lands."

      "We thought so too, John; and although it is your father who would lose, and mine who would gain, I don't