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I must form my own staff, and I must have my commissariat secure."

"My general, you will be master of your own terms. The Standing Committee of the Holy Alliance of Peoples are sitting upstairs at this moment. They were unanimous in sending for you. See them; judge for yourself; and, rest assured, you will be satisfied."

"I do not much like having to do with committees," said the general. "However, let it be as you like--I will see them."

"I had better just announce your arrival," said Perroni. "And will you not take something, my general after your travel you must be wearied."

"A glass of sugar-and-water. You know, I am not easily tired. And, I agree with you, it is better to come to business at once: so prepare them."


CHAPTER 11

The Standing Committee of the Holy Alliance of Peoples all rose, although they were extreme republicans, when the general entered. Such is the magical influence of a man of action over men of the pen an the tongue. Had it been, instead of a successful military leader, an orator that had inspired Europe, or a journalist who had rights of the human race, the Standing Committee would have only seen men of their own kidney, who, having been favored with happier opportunities than themselves, had reaped a harvest which, equally favored, they might here have garnered.

"General," said Felix Drolin, the president, who was looked upon by the brotherhood as a statesman, for he had been in his time, a member of a provisional government, "this seat is for you," and he pointed to one on his right hand. "You are ever welcome; and I hope you bring good tidings, and good fortune."

"I am glad to be among my friends, and I may say," looking around, "my comrades. I hope I may bring you better fortune than my tidings."

"But now they have left Rome," said the president, "every day we expect good news."

"Ay, ay! he has left Rome, but he has not left Rome with the door open. I hope it is not on such gossip you have sent for me. You have something on hand. What is it?"

"You shall hear it from the fountain-head," said the president, "fresh from New York," and he pointed to an individual seated in the centre of the table.

"Ah! Colonel Finucane," said the general, "I have not forgotten James River. You did that well. What is the trick now?"

Whereupon a tall, lean man, with a decided brogue, but speaking through his nose, rose from his seat and informed the general that the Irish people were organized and ready to rise; that they had sent their deputies to New York; all they wanted were arms and officers; that the American brethren had agreed to supply them with both, and amply; and that considerable subscriptions were raising for other purposes. What they now required was a commander-in-chief equal to the occasion, and in whom all would have confidence; and therefore they had telegraphed for the general.

"I doubt not our friends over the water would send us plenty of rifles," said the general, "if we could only manage to land them; and, I think, I know men now in the States from whom I could form a good staff; but how about the people of Ireland? What evidence have we that they will rise, if we land?"

"The best," said the president. "We have a head-centre here, Citizen Desmond, who will give you the most recent and the most authentic intelligence on that head."

"The whole country is organized," said the head-centre; "we could put three hundred thousand men in the field at any time in a fortnight. The movement is not sectarian; it pervades all classes and all creeds. All that we want are officers and arms."

"Hem!" said the general; "and as to your other supplies? Any scheme of commissariat?"

"There will be no lack of means," replied the head-centre. "There is no country where so much money is hoarded as in Ireland. But, depend upon it, so far as the commissariat is concerned, the movement will be self-supporting."

"Well, we shall see," said, the general; "I am sorry it is an Irish affair, though, to be sure, what else could it be? I am not fond of Irish affairs: whatever may be said, and however plausible things may look, in an Irish business there is always a priest at the bottom of it. I hate priests. By-the-by, I was stopped on my way here by a cardinal getting into his carriage. I thought I had burnt all those vehicles when I was at Rome with Garibaldi in '48. A cardinal in his carriage! I had no idea you permitted that sort of cattle in London."

"London is a roost for every bird," said Felix Drolin.

"Very few of the priests favor this movement," said Desmond.

"Then you have a great power against you," said the general, in "addition to England."

"They are not exactly against; the bulk of them are too national for that; but Rome does not sanction--you understand?"

"I understand enough," said the general, "to see that we must not act with precipitation. An Irish business is a thing to be turned over several times."

"But yet," said a Pole, "what hope for humanity except from the rising of an oppressed nationality? We have offered ourselves on the altar, and in vain! Greece is too small, and Roumania--though both of them are ready to do any thing; but they would be the mere tools of Russia. Ireland alone remains, and she is at our feet."

"The peoples will never succeed until they have a fleet," said a German. "Then you could land as many rifles as you like, or any thing else. To have a fleet we rose against Denmark in my country, but we have been betrayed. Nevertheless, Germany will yet be united, and she can only be united as a republic. Then she will be the mistress of the seas."

"That is the mission of Italy," said Perroni. "Italy--with the traditions of Genoa, Venice, Pisa--Italy is plainly indicated as the future mistress of the seas."

"I beg your pardon," said the German; "the future mistress of the sees is the land of the Viking. It is the forests of the Baltic that will build the Best of the future. You have no timber in Italy."

"Timber is no longer wanted," said Perroni. "Nor do I know of what will be formed the fleets of the future. But the sovereignty of the seas depends upon seamen, and the nautical genius of the Italians--"

"Comrades," said the general, "we have discussed to-night a great subject. For my part I have travelled rather briskly, as you wished it. I should like to sleep on this affair."

"'Tis most reasonable," said the president. "Our refreshment at council is very spare," he continued, and he pointed to a vase of water and some glasses ranged round it in the middle of the table; "but we always drink one toast, general, before we separate. It is to one whom you love, and whom you have served well. Fill glasses, brethren and now 'TO MARY-ANNE.'"

If they had been inspired by the grape, nothing could be more animated and even excited than all their countenances suddenly became. The cheer might have been heard in the coffee-room, as they expressed, in the phrases of many languages, the never-failing and never-flagging enthusiasm invoked by the toast of their mistress.


CHAPTER 12

"Did you read that paragraph, mamma?" inquired Lady Corisande of the duchess, in a tone of some seriousness.

"I did."

"And what did you think of it?"

"It filled me with so much amazement that I have hardly begun to think."

"And Bertram never gave a hint of such things!"

"Let us believe they are quite untrue."

"I hope Bertram is in no danger," said his sister.

"Heaven forbid!" exclaimed the mother, with unaffected alarm.

"I know not how it is," said Lady Corisande, "but I frequently feel that some great woe is hanging over our country."

"You must dismiss such thoughts, my child; they are fanciful."

"But they will come, and when least expected--frequently in church, but also in the sunshine; and when I am riding too, when, once, every thing seemed gay. But now I often think of strife, and struggle, and war--civil war: the stir of our cavalcade seems like the tramp of cavalry."

"You indulge your imagination too much, dear Corisande. When you return to London, and enter the world, these anxious thoughts will fly."

"Is it imagination? I should rather have doubted my being of an imaginative nature. It seems to me that I am rather literal. But I cannot help hearing and reading things, and observing things, and they fill me with disquietude. All seems doubt and change, when it would appear that we require both faith and firmness."

"The duke is not alarmed about affairs," said his wife.

"And, if all did their duty like papa, there might be less, or no cause," said Corisande. "But, when I hear of young nobles, the natural leaders of the land, going over to the Roman Catholic Church, I confess I lose heart and patience. It seems so unpatriotic, so effeminate."

"It may not be true," said the duchess.

"It may not be true of him, but it is true of others," said Lady Corisande. "And why should he escape? He is very young, rather friendless, and surrounded by wily persons. I am disappointed about Bertram too. He ought to have prevented this, if it be true. Bertram seemed to me to have such excellent principles, and so completely to feel that he was born to maintain the great country which his ancestors created, that I indulged in dreams. I suppose you are right, mamma; I suppose I am imaginative without knowing it; but I have, always thought, and hoped, that when the troubles came the country might, perhaps, rally round Bertram."

"I wish to see Bertram in Parliament," said the duchess. "That will be the best thing for him. The duke has some plans."

This conversation had been occasioned by a paragraph in the Morning Post, circulating a rumor that a young noble, obviously Lothair, on the impending completion of his minority, was about to enter the Roman Church. The duchess and her daughter were sitting in a chamber of their northern castle, and speculating on their return to London, which was to take place after the Easter which had just arrived. It was an important social season for Corisande, for she was to be formally introduced into the great world, and to be presented at court.

In the mean while, was there any truth in the report about Lothair?

After their meeting at their lawyer's, a certain intimacy had occurred between the cardinal and his ward. They met again immediately and frequently, and their mutual feelings were cordial. The manners of his eminence were refined and affectionate; his conversational powers were distinguished; there was not a subject on which his mind did not teem with interesting suggestions; his easy knowledge seemed always ready and always full; and whether it were art, or letters, or manners, or even political affairs, Lothair seemed to listen to one of the wisest, most enlightened, and most agreeable of men. There was only one subject on which his eminence seemed scrupulous never to touch, and that was religion; or so indirectly, that it was only when alone that Lothair frequently found himself musing over the happy influence on the arts,
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