Part 13 (1/2)

I found that Babberly and Lady Moyne had worked out a very feasible plan without any help from me.

”That fellow Malcolmson has rushed things,” said Babberly, ”and there's an abominable rag called _The Loyalist_--”

”By the way,” I said, ”I hear that the Nationalists at their last meeting in Dublin joined in singing 'G.o.d Save the King.'”

I wanted to hear what Babberly thought of this. I was disappointed.

The fact did not seem to interest him.

”I don't know who edits the thing,” he went on, still referring to _The Loyalist_.

”Conroy is behind it,” I said. ”I happen to know that.”

”But surely,” said Lady Moyne, ”Mr. Conroy cannot want to encourage violence. He has just as much to lose as any of us--more than most of us--by any kind of outbreak of the democracy.”

”Lady Moyne has suggested to Malcolmson,” said Babberly, ”that he should agree to call this 12th of July business a March Past.”

”Is that any improvement on Review?” I asked.

”Of course,” said Lady Moyne, ”the Government doesn't want to be driven to take steps against us. There would be horrible rioting afterwards if they struck Moyne's name off the Privy Council or did anything like that. It would be just as unpleasant for them as it would be for us, more so in fact.”

”Your idea,” I said, ”is to give the Government a loophole of escape.”

”Malcolmson has agreed all right,” said Babberly, ”and if only that wretched little paper--did you say Conroy was in it?”

”I'll write to Mr. Conroy at once,” said Lady Moyne. ”I'm sure his connection with a paper of that kind is simply a mistake.”

She turned to the table and began to write her letter. The secretary in a distant corner of the room was still typing out a long p.r.o.nouncement which Babberly intended to forward to _The Times_. A minute or two later Lady Moyne turned to me with one of her brightest smiles.

”We want you to be with us on the 12th,” she said.

In England or Scotland a countess who gives an invitation for ”the 12th” is understood to mean the 12th of August, and her guest must be ready to shoot grouse. In North-Eastern Ulster ”the 12th” meant the 12th of July, and the party, in this case at all events, was likely to end in the shooting of policemen.

”At the Review?” I said, ”I mean to say the March Past? But I never go to political meetings. I'm no good at all as a speaker.”

”Oh, it doesn't matter about your speaking. We should love to hear you, of course. But if you'd really rather not--!”

I think Lady Moyne was relieved when I a.s.sured her that I really would rather not.

”But you'll be on the platform,” she said. ”We want you very much indeed.”

”I don't see,” I said, ”that I'll be the least use to you.”

”The point is,” said Babberly, ”that you're a Liberal.”

”Oh, you mustn't say that,” said Lady Moyne. ”That's only foolish gossip. I'm perfectly certain that Lord Kilmore never was--”

”Never,” I said. ”But then I never was a Conservative either.”

”That's just it,” said Lady Moyne. ”Don't you see?”