Part 37 (1/2)

”We will not have Home Rule,” said the Dean and Malcolmson together.

”Of course not,” I said. ”That will be understood at once. Shall I demand Mr. Redmond's head on a charger? I don't suppose you want it, but it's always well to ask for more than you mean to take. It gives the other side a chance of negotiating.”

”All we ask,” said McNeice, ”is that the English clear out of this country, bag and baggage, soldiers, policemen, tax collectors, the whole infernal crew, and leave us free hand to clean up the mess they've been making for the last hundred years.”

”Either that,” said Malcolmson, ”or fight us in earnest.”

”They'll clear out, of course,” I said. ”If it's a choice between that and fighting. But what about governing the country afterwards?”

”We'll do that,” said Conroy, ”and if we can't do it better than they did--”

”Oh, you will,” I said. ”Anyhow, you can't do it worse. But--there's just one point more. What about the Lord Lieutenant?”

”I don't know that he matters any,” said Conroy.

”He doesn't,” I said, ”not a bit. But he's there at present, and some arrangement will have to be made about him.”

”If the Dublin people like airing their best clothes before an imitation king,” said Cahoon, ”let them. It won't matter to us.”

This showed me that Cahoon, at least, has a statesman's mind. In unessential matters he is ready to yield to the sentiments of his inferiors.

”I understand then,” I said, ”that the Lord Lieutenant with the purely ornamental part of the Viceregal staff is to be allowed to remain on the condition that he gives--shall we say eight b.a.l.l.s and eight dinner-parties every year?--and that every other Englishman leaves the country at once. Those are your terms.”

”And no more talk about Home Rule,” said the Dean firmly.

”Very well,” I said, ”I'll start at once.”

Bob Power was waiting for me in Conroy's motor when I had packed my bag. The streets were very crowded as we drove through them, and the people cheered us tremendously. It was the first time I had ever been cheered, and I found the sensation agreeable. Besides cheering, the crowd sang a great deal. Some one had composed a song especially for the occasion, which had caught the fancy of the Belfast people, and spread among them with wonderful rapidity. The tune, I am told, dates from the days of the eighteenth-century volunteer movement.

”Do you think I'm a fool To put up with Home Rule?

For I'm not, as you'll quickly discover, discover.

For soldier and rebel I'm equally able; I'll neither have one nor the t'other, the t'other.”

As poetry this is scarcely equal to Dr. Isaac Watts' version of the ninetieth of David's psalms. The rhyme of ”rebel” with ”able” is defective, and ”discover” and ”other” jar rather badly; but poets of high reputation have done worse in times of patriotic excitement, and the thing expressed the feelings of the Belfast people with perfect accuracy. A better poet might very well have failed to understand them.

Bob and I made the sea-pa.s.sage as short as possible by steaming to Port Patrick. I spent an anxious half-hour while we pa.s.sed through the squadron of wars.h.i.+ps. Bob a.s.sured me that they would not do anything to us. When I complained that they had a truculent and angry look about them he said that that was nothing out of the common. All wars.h.i.+ps look truculent. I dare say they do. Warfare has become much more civilized and scientific than it used to be; but we cannot any of us afford as yet to neglect the wisdom of the mediaeval Chinese.

They wore masks in order to terrify their foes. Our battles.h.i.+ps are evidently designed with the same object.

I reached London next morning, and at once sent word to the Prime Minister that I was ready to make a treaty with him. He sent Sir Samuel c.l.i.thering to act as an intermediary. We met in the library of Moyne House, which was neutral ground. Lady Moyne had been one of the original syndicate which, so to speak, placed our insurrection on the market. Her house was therefore friendly soil for me. She had afterwards disa.s.sociated herself, more or less, from Conroy and McNeice; while Moyne had been trying for two days to surrender himself. The Prime Minister's amba.s.sador could therefore go to Moyne House without loss of dignity.

c.l.i.thering brought my nephew G.o.dfrey with him.

”Mr. D'Aubigny,” he said, ”is acting for the present as one of my private secretaries.”

c.l.i.thering is a man who acc.u.mulates private secretaries rapidly. It would not have surprised me to hear that he had a dozen.

”I brought him,” c.l.i.thering went on, ”to take notes of our conversation. I thought that you would prefer him to a stranger.”

I should very much have preferred the young man from Toynbee Hall who escorted Marion to the cathedral. I should, in fact, have preferred any other private secretary. But I had not the heart to say so. The experience of the last few days had softened me, and G.o.dfrey looked immensely pleased with himself. He had on a new frock coat, beautifully cut, and a pair of trousers of an exquisite shade of grey.