Tread Softly On My Dreams by Gretta Curran Browne

Author:Gretta Curran Browne [Browne, Gretta Curran]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Publisher: Gretta Curran Browne
Published: 2016-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Six

Anne was preparing the evening meal when Big Arthur stomped into the kitchen. ‘Where's himself?’

‘In the drawing-room.’ Her eyes strayed to the dejected figure of Jemmy Hope behind him. ‘Did you see Michael?’

‘Aye, not much good it did us though.’ She followed them through to the drawing room where Robert and Russell were bent over a map.

‘Well?’ Robert asked.

‘He's not convinced,’ Jemmy said. ‘He's not prepared to risk his men or the people of Wicklow in another rebellion.’

Miles Byrne could not believe it when he arrived later for dinner. ‘Dwyer is dedicated heart and soul to the cause. I can't believe he refuses to join forces with us.’

‘Oh he didn't say that,’ Robert answered wryly. ‘He said he would have to consider the situation carefully, after discussions with us.’

‘So? When is he coming?’

Jemmy snorted. ‘He wouldn't even tell us that! It seems he never makes pre-arranged appointments with anyone. He said it would be himself who picked the day and the hour. Maybe in a month or two.’

Big Art stuck a potato into his mouth and waved his fork in the air, saying finally, ‘I told him as I mounted my horse. I said, Michael, can you not understand that Messrs Emmet and Russell want to see you badly?’

‘And what did he say to that?’ Anne asked.

Big Arthur shrugged. ‘He just gave that smile of his and said, ‘ “tell Robert Emmet he will see me when he sees me.” ’

Anne's heart was heavy as she undressed for bed that night. She should have known Michael would not be easy to persuade. How many troublemakers had tried to use him in the past to fight their private feuds for them, under the pretence of striking a blow for liberty.

She climbed into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. The sound of the trees outside rustling in the soft wind calmed her spirit a little and she closed her eyes in thought. Very few could fool Michael Dwyer, but Emmet and Russell – he must know they were risking everything, surely. Russell only had to be recognised and he was a dead man.

Of a sudden her body stiffened, she turned her head, ears straining towards the window: she had lived too long in the country not to recognise a footfall. She tried to still her breathing as she listened again. Then she heard what sounded like the soft clomping of a horse – more than one horse. She jumped out of bed and pulled a dress over her chemise.

She crept through the dark hall and up the stairs. Russell’s room was in darkness but a glimmer of candlelight peeped out from under Mr Robert's door. She tapped on it urgently.

He was at the door in a matter of seconds. ‘Mr Robert, ’ she whispered, ‘there's someone outside.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘I'm sure ‘twas a footfall I heard. Do you think it's the militia? They always come acreeping late at night – before they kick the doors in.’

Robert ran back into the room for the candle and lit the way down.

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