“You did fine.”
Jimmy’s uncle had brewed a pot of tea and was pouring it into thick mugs when they returned. They shook hands and Paddy cocked his head, curious.
“So you’re a friend of Jimmy’s, are you then, Mr. Kelly?”
“I am happy to say that I am.”
“Sure and you’re a good deal older than him.”
“I am. But that can be easily explained. I first came to know him through an organization we both belong to, a patriotic group that raises money in the cause of Ireland.”
“Which she can certainly use a bit of that,” Paddy said emphatically. “ ’Tis a land of poverty and hunger.”
“It is. And we know whose responsibility that is.”
Paddy looked up, his face grim. “Then it’s not the hunger you use the money for — it’s for the politics. And I tell you now, I’m not one for politics.”
“We are all for politics,” Condon said grimly, “when it means freedom for Ireland.”
“I did not invite you to my house, Mr. Kelly,” Paddy said in a cold voice. “And I can ask you to leave.”
“You can — and I will. But hear me out first. I am a member of the Fenian Circle. Our aim is a free Ireland. In order to one day accomplish that goal we must know everything we can about the enemy. Where their troops are stationed, how many there are, their battlefield readiness. We also need to know all about her railroads because troops travel by train. We are not searching for fighters, not yet, but we do need good Irishmen who can supply the information that we need so badly. Would you be one of them?”
Paddy waved away the suggestion. “I know nothing of matters military. I’m an engine driver, nothing more.”
Condon leaned across the table, spoke the words softly. “These are modern times and modern war. As I said, troops travel by train. The more we know the more we can prepare.”
“So that’s it, is it? You want me to spy for you.”
“We don’t need spies. We need loyal Irishmen who can record what they see. You can be paid…”
“Hush, man,” he responded angrily. “Money is for informers and spies and gobbeen men. If I do anything for you it will be for the good of Ireland — not for myself.”
“Then you will do it?”
The trainman turned to his nephew. “And you are working for these Fenians, Jimmy?”
“Aye.”
“Is it dangerous?”
Jimmy shrugged. “Don’t know. Could maybe be. But I enlisted with my eyes open. And I will fight.” Did he mean the army — or the Fenians? Or both? Yes, it was both. Paddy smiled and leaned back in his chair.
“Well if a wee lad can do it — why then a man of my years cannot say ‘no.’ I have never been a political man. But, when it comes down to it, I am a loyal Irishman and would dearly love to see Ireland free. Is that what you wanted to hear, Mr. Kelly?”
“It is indeed — and I can only think the more of a man who puts country before heart and head.”
It was easier now. Paddy made a fresh pot of tea and they drank it in friendship. Condon explained all the things they needed to know, and told him to memorize what he found out, and to keep nothing on paper. In the end he took out a five-pound note and held it up. Smiling at Paddy’s frown.
“This is not for you, my friend, but to identify someone who is also a friend.” He tore it in half and passed one piece over. “Whoever shows you the other half is one of us. Tell him everything that you know. Agreed?”
“Agreed. Though ’tis an awful crime to treat a fiver like this.”
“One day soon the two pieces will be conjoined and it will be as good as new. Now, could you tell me — when can we get a train back to Dublin?”
“That will be the seven oh six. But if it’s sooner you want to leave I’m taking a goods train out at four. You could ride the footplate as long as you didn’t get in the way.”
“Your fireman would see me, remember me.”