"All goods sent aboard the ship are strictly examined," said Captain Dowie.
"But suppose a man brought explosives aboard with him?" said I.
"They are too cowardly to risk their own lives in that way."
During this conversation Flannigan had not betrayed the slightest interest in what was going on. He raised his head now, and looked at the captain.
"Don't you think you are rather underrating them?" he said. "Every secret society has produced desperate men—why shouldn't the Fenians have them too? Many men think it a privilege to die in the service of a cause which seems right in their eyes, though others may think it wrong."
"Indiscriminate murder cannot be right in anybody's eyes," said the little clergyman.
"The bombardment of Paris was nothing else," said Flannigan; "yet the whole civilised world agreed to look on with folded arms, and change the ugly word 'murder' into the more euphonious one of 'war.' It seemed right enough to German eyes; why shouldn't dynamite seem so to the Fenian?"
