"
"Then _they knocked at the wrong door_," said I.
The stranger seemed to know me, and I had a little further
conversation with him. It turned out he was a Chancery barrister, and
a friend of Brett's.
"Why," I asked, "do you think they meant the visit for me?"
"Well," he answered, "it was."
"If it was intended for me," I replied, "I can only say they, were
most ungrateful, for I gave their friends all I could."
"Yes--penal servitude for life."
"Very well," I added; "if they think they'll frighten me by blowing in
Reginald Brett's front door, they are very much deceived."
Lord Esher, I believe, always considered that _he_ was the object of
this attack, and as I had no wish to disturb so comforting an idea,
took no further notice, and the Fenians took no further notice of
me. Years after, however, my name was mentioned in Parliament in
connection with this case; nor was my severity called in question.
There were no more explosions in Tilney Street, but a singular
circumstance occurred, which placed me in a position, if I had desired
it, to deprive Lord Esher of the satisfaction of believing that he was
the object of so much Fenian attention. But if it was a comfort to him
or a source of pride, I did not see why I should take it away.
A reverend father of the Roman Church told me that a long while ago
a man in confession made a statement which he wished the priest
to communicate to me.
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