“Very well, my lord,” replied the spokesman of the deputation, “I beg to assure you, that if a hair of this man’s head is injured there will be a massacre of the Popish population before two months; and I beg also to let you know, for the satisfaction of the English Cabinet, that they may embroil themselves with France, or get into whatever political embarrassment they please, but an Irish Protestant will never hoist a musket, or draw a sword, in their defence.  Gentlemen, let us bid his Excellency a good-morning.”

This was startling language, as the effect proved, for it startled the viceroy into a compliance with their wishes, and they went home post-haste, in order that the pardon might arrive in time.

CHAPTER XXV.—­Reilly stands his Trial

Rumor of Cooleen Bawn’s Treachery—­How it appears—­Conclusion.

Life, they say, is a life of trials, and so may it be said of this tale—­at least of the conclusion of it; for we feel that it devolves upon us once more to solicit the presence of our readers to the same prison in which the Red Rapparee and Sir Robert Whitecraft received their sentence of doom.

As it is impossible to close the mouth or to silence the tongue of fame, so we may assure our readers, as we have before, that the:  history of the loves of those two celebrated individuals, to wit, Willy Reilly and the far-famed Cooleen Bawn, had given an interest to the coming trial such as was never known within the memory of man, at that period, nor perhaps equalled since.  The Red Rapparee, Sir Robert Whitecraft, and all the other celebrated “villains of that time, have nearly perished out of tradition itself, whilst those of our hero and heroine are still fresh in the feelings of the Connaught and Northern peasantry, at whose hearths, during the winter evenings, the rude but fine old ballad that commemorated that love is still sung with sympathy, and sometimes, as we can I testify, with tears.  This is fame.  One circumstance, however, which deepened the interest felt by the people, told powerfully against the consistency of the Cooleen Bawn, which was, that she had resolved to come forward that day to bear evidence against; her lover.  Such was the general impression received from her father, and the attorney Doldrum, who conducted the trial against Reilly, although our readers are well aware that on this point they spoke without authority.  The governor of the prison, on going that morning to conduct him to the bar, said: 

“I am sorry, Mr. Reilly, to be the bearer of bad news; but as the knowledge of it may be serviceable to you or your lawyers, I think I ought to mention it to you.”

“Pray, what is it?” asked Reilly.

“Why, sir, it is said to be a fact that the Cooleen Bawn has proved false and treacherous, and is coming this day to bear her testimony against you.”

Reilly replied with a smile of confidence, which the darkness of the room prevented the other from seeing, “Well, Mr. O’Shaugh-nessy, even if she does, it cannot be helped; have you heard what the nature of her evidence is likely to be?”