" Along with this grasp, they did not
forget to remind me of the common bond by which we were united, for
each man gave me the secret grip of Ribbonism in a manner that made the
joints of my fingers ache for some minutes afterwards.
There was one present, however--the highest in authority--whose actions
and demeanor were calm and unexcited. He seemed to labor under no
unusual influence whatever, but evinced a serenity so placid and
philosophical, that I attributed the silence of the sitting group, and
the restraint which curbed in the outbreaking passions of those who
stood, entirely to his presence. He was a schoolmaster, who taught his
daily school in that chapel, and acted also on Sunday, in the capacity
of clerk to the priest--an excellent and amiable old man, who knew
little of his illegal connections and atrocious conduct.
When the ceremonies of brotherly recognition and friendship were past,
the Captain (by which title I shall designate the last-mentioned person)
stooped, and, raising a jar of whiskey on the corner of the altar, held
a wineglass to its neck, which he filled, and with a calm nod handed
it to me to drink. I shrank back, with an instinctive horror, at the
profaneness of such an act, in the house, and on the altar of God, and
peremptorily refused to taste the proffered I draught. He smiled mildly
at what he considered my superstition, and added quietly, and in a low
voice, "You'll be wantin' it I'm thinkin', afther the wettin' you
got.
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