d General Clavering, "you cannot seriously suppose
that your son, simply because he is your son, is to be allowed to
interfere with the course of justice?"

"Of justice?" asked Lord Dunseveric in a tone of mild surprise.

"With His Majesty's officers in the execution of their duty--that is,
to release prisoners whom I have condemned--I, the general in command
charged with the suppression of an infamous rebellion. Your son, my
lord, will have to abide the consequences of his acts."

"Maurice," said Lord Dunseveric, "it is evident that you are going to
be hanged. General Clavering is going to hang you. It is really
providential that you didn't steal his breeches. He would probably have
flogged you first and hanged you afterwards if you had."

"Damn your infernal insolence," broke out General Clavering furiously,
"You think that because you happen to be a lord and own a few dirty
acres of land that you can sit there grinning like an ape and insulting
me. I'll teach you, my lord, I'll teach you. By God, I'll teach you and
every other cursed Irishman to speak civil to an English officer. You
shall know your masters, by the Almighty, before I've done with you."

Lord Dunseveric rose to his feet. He fixed his eyes on General
Clavering, and spoke slowly and deliberately.

"I ride at once to Dublin," he said. "I shall lay an account of your
doings and the doings of your troops before His Majesty's representative
there. I shall then cross to England, approach my Sovereign and yours,
General Clavering. I shall see that justice is done between you and the
people you have outraged and harried. As to my son, I have work for him
to do. I shall make myself responsible for his appearance before a court
of justice when he is summoned. In the meanwhile, I neither recognise
you as my master nor your will as my law. I appeal to the constitutional
liberties of this kingdom of Ireland and to the right of every citizen
to a fair trial before a jury of his fellow-countrymen. You shall not
arrest, try, or condemn my son otherwise than as the law allows."

General Clavering grew purple in the face. He stuttered, cursed, laid
his hand on his sword, and took a step forward. Lord Dunseveric, his
hands behind his back, a sneer of contempt on his face, looked straight
at the furious man in front of him.

"Do you propose," he said, "to stab me and then hang my son?"

This was precisely what General Clavering would have liked to do, but he
dare