The Red Hand of Ulster Part 13

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?"

"The point is," said Babberly, "that if you are on the platform it will be quite clear--I mean to say as it's generally understood that you're inclined to Liberalism--"

I began to understand a little. Last time I was at Castle Affey Lady Moyne made a great point of my a.s.sociating myself with her party in opposing Home Rule. The fact that I was a Liberal (though not in any offensive sense of the word) gave weight to the opposition; and I might help to make the other Liberals (who were Liberals in the most offensive possible sense) take the threats of Babberly seriously. This time I was to sit on the platform side by side with Malcolmson and Cahoon, because, being a Liberal, or rather suspected of being inclined to Liberalism, my presence might induce the other Liberals, who were Liberals indeed, not to take Babberly's remarks at their face value. That is the drawback to the kind of detached position which I occupy. I am liable to be used for such various purposes that I get confused. However, I ought, no doubt, to be very thankful that I am useful in any way.

"If you think, my dear Lady Moyne," I said, "that my presence at the March Past will be of the slightest service to you--"

"It will," she said. "It will, indeed, of the very greatest service, and Moyne will be delighted."

I was thinking of Moyne when I made the promise. I do not mean to say that I should have undertaken to perch myself like a fool on a wooden platform in the middle of a mob simply out of friendship for Moyne. I would not have done it unless Lady Moyne had looked at me with a particular expression in her eyes, unless I had hoped that she would give my hand a little squeeze of intimate friendship when I was bidding her good night. Still I did think of Moyne too, and was quite genuinely pleased that I was able to help him out of a difficult position.

I found him later on roaming about among the cuc.u.mber frames in a desolate corner of the garden. A man who was digging potatoes directed me to that curious retreat.

"It's all right, Moyne," I said. "We've got the whole thing settled most satisfactorily. You needn't be afraid of any disagreeable public scandal."

"Thank G.o.d!" said Moyne, fervently. "How did you manage it?"

"I can't take any credit for the arrangement," I said. "Lady Moyne and Babberly had it all cut and dried before they consulted me at all."

"What are they going to do?"

"Well, in the first place they've got Malcolmson and the rest of that lot to stop calling the thing a Review. It's to be officially known for the future as a March Past."

"Who is to march past what?" said Moyne.

"I forgot to ask that," I said, "but I rather fancy the audience is to march past you."

"I don't see," said Moyne, "that there's much difference between calling it a March Past and calling it a Review. They're both military terms; and what I object to is being a.s.sociated with--"

"Lady Moyne seemed to think," I said, "that it made all the difference in the world; and that the Government would grasp at the olive branch."

"I suppose it will be all right," said Moyne doubtfully.

"The next part of the plan," I said, "is that I am to be on the platform."

"You'll rather hate that, won't you, Kilmore?"

"I shall detest it."

"And I don't see what good it will do."

"Nor do I; but Lady Moyne and Babberly both say that as I'm a Liberal--"

"Surely to G.o.d you're not that!" said Moyne.

"No, I'm not. But I'm suspected of being inclined that way. Therefore my being on the platform will prove to the world that you're not nearly so much of a Unionist as you've been trying to make out."

"But I am," said Moyne.

"I know that, of course; but Lady Moyne wants to persuade people that you're not, just for the present, till this fuss about the Review wears off."