u are surrounded, but, above all,
my inexpressible love for you, will surely justify me in not losing a
moment to write to you; and I select this poor creature as my messenger
because he is least likely to be suspected. It is through him that the
discovery of the accursed plot against you has been made. It appears
that he slept in the castle last night, as he often does, and having
observed Sir Thomas Whitecraft and that terrible man, the Red Rapparee,
coming into the house, and going along with papa into his study,
evidently upon some private business, he resolved to listen. He did so,
and overheard the Rapparee stating to papa that every thing which took
place on the evening you saved his life and frustrated his other designs
upon the castle, was a plan preconceived by you for the purpose of
making papa's acquaintance and getting introduced to the family in order
to gain my affections. Alas! if you have resorted to such a plan, you
have but too well succeeded. Do not, however, for one moment imagine
that I yield any credit to this atrocious falsehood. It has been
concocted by your base and unmanly rival, Whitecraft, by whom all the
proceedings against you are to be conducted. Some violation of the penal
laws, in connection with carrying or keeping arms, is to be brought
against you, and unless you are on your guard you will be arrested
and thrown into prison, and if not convicted of a capital offence and
executed like a felon, you will at least be sent forever out of the
country. What is to be done? If you have arms in or about your house let
them be forthwith removed to some place of concealment. The Rapparee
is to get a pardon from government, at least he is promised it by
Sir Robert, if he turns against you. In one word, dearest Reilly, you
cannot, with safety to your life, remain in this country. You must fly
from it, and immediately too. I wish to see you. Come this night, at
half-past ten, to the back gate of our garden, which you will find shut,
but unlocked. Something--is it my heart?--tells me that our fates are
henceforth inseparable, whether for joy or sorrow. I ought to tell you
that I confessed my affection for you to papa on the evening you dined
here, and he was not angry; but this morning he insisted that I should
never think of you more, nor mention your name; and he says that if the
laws can do it he will lose ten thousand pounds or he will have you
sent out of the country. Lanigan, our cook, from what