Cheraw chronicle. [volume] (Cheraw, S.C.) 1896-2005, 1921-08-04

er. Well, then, don't you see the late
full moment has come in Irish life and
history? Strife everywhere! Alone
what can we do? Alone, if we try tt
shake off the yoke that binds us We
shall be shattered, and our last enc
be worse than our first. But will
French ships, French officers and sol
diers, French guns and ammunition
with the trained men Of the French
army to take control here, what ameli
grafton of our weakness, what con
tidence and skill on our side! Car
you doubt what the end will be? An
swer me, man; don't you see 1t all
Isn't it clear to you? Doesn't such 6
cause enlist you?"
With a sudden burst Of primitive
anger, Dyck got to his feet, staggering
little, but grasping the fatal mean
ing of the whole thing. He looked
Erris BOyne in the eyes. His owl
were bloodshOt and dissipated, but
there was q look in them of which
Boyne might well .ake heed.
81 tell you this, Erris Boyne; there's
none has ever tried me as you have
done! What do you think | am-a
thing of the dirty street corner, some
thing to be swept up and cast into the
furnace of treason? Look, you! AT
ter today you and will never break
bread or drink wine together. No
by Heaven, no! don't know whether
you've told me the truth or not, but
think you have. There's this to say
Il shall go from this place to Dublin
castle, and shall tell them there
without mentioning your name-wha1
you've told about the French raid
Now, look you, by God, you're traitor
You oughtn't to live, and If you'll sent
your seconds to me I'll try and dc
with you as l did with Leonard Nal
low. Only mark me, Erris Boyne
I'll put my sword into your heart
You understandable your filth!
heart"
At that moment the door OF the
room opened, and a face looked In
for an instant-the face Of old Swim
ton, the landlord of the Harp and
Crown. Suddenly Boyne's look
changed. He burst into laugh, and
brought his fists down on the table
between them with bang.
"By Joseph and by Mary, but you're
a patriot, Calhoun! l was trying to
test you. l was searching to find the
innermoSt soul Of you. The French
fleet, my commission in the French
army. and my story about the landlord
are all bOsh. If ! meant what | told
you, do you think I'd have been SO
mad as to tell you so much, d-n 1t:
Have you no sense, man? / wanted
to find out exactly how you stood
faithful or unfaithful to the crown
and I've found out. Sit down, sit
down, Calhoun, dear lad. Take your
hand off your sword. Remember
these are terrible days. Everything
| said about Ireland is true. What
said about France Is false Sit down,
man, and if you're going to join the
kings army-as l hope and trust you
will-then here's something to help
YOU face the time between" He threw
on the table n packet Of notes
They're good and healthy. and will
buy you what you need. There's not
much. There's only Il hundred pounds
but ! give it to you with a!l my heart,
and YOU can pay it back when the
kings money comes to you, or when
YOU marry a rich woman"
He said it all with smile on his
face. 1t was done so cleverly, with
so much simulated sincerity, that
Dyck, in his state of semi-drunken'
ness, could not, at the instant, place
him in his true light.
Never in his life had Boyne per
formed such prodigies Of dissimula
ton. He realized to the full the dan
gers he had run in disclosing the
truth; for it was the truth that he
had told.
So serious was the situation, to his
mind, that one thing seemed inevita
BILE. 'Dyck must be kidnapped at once
and carried out of Ireland. 1t would
be simple. A little more drugged
wine, and he would be asleep an(
powerleSs-it had already tugged a,
him. With the help of his cOnfreres
in the tavern, Dyck could be carried
out, put on a lugger and sent away
TO France.
There was nothing else to do. BOynC
had said truly that the French fleet
meant to come soon. Dyck must not
be able to give the thing away before
il happened. Already the wine haC
played havoc with him; already stupe
faction was coming over his senses
With good-natured, rlbald laugh
Boyne poured out another glass o.
murSaa and pushed it gently over Il
Dyck's fingers.
"My gin to your mnrSala," he said
and he raised his own glass of gin
looking playfully over the top to Dyck
With sudden lOOsenlng Of all tn,
fibres of his nature, Dyck raised tn,
glass of marsala to his lips and drained
II off almost at gulp.
you're a prodlgiOus liar, Boyne,