uent and even
eloquent.

"It's on account of the way we find ourselves situated in this country
at the present time," he said. "It's not the hearts of the people that's
at fault. There isn't one, not the poorest man among us, that wouldn't
be willing to do honour to the memory of the great men of the past that
died on the scaffold in defence of the liberty of the people. It's the
cursed system of Castle Government and the tyranny of the landlords,
and the way the people is driven off their farms by the rack-renting
flunkeys of the rent office. How is the country to prosper, and how
is statues to be erected to them that deserve statues, so long as the
people isn't able to call their souls their own? But, glory be to God,
it won't be so for long! We have Home Rule as good as got, and when we
have it----"

Gallagher might have gone on speaking for a long time. He was a man of
tried and practised eloquence. He had arrived without much effort at
his favourite subject. Fragments of old speeches, glowing periods,
oft-repeated perorations thronged confusedly on his memory. Mr. Billing
seemed to be listening with sympathy and admiration. It might be a long
time before such a favourable opportunity for making a speech came to
Gallagher again. Unfortunately he was interrupted. Mary Ellen had come,
unperceived, out of the hotel. She was at Mr. Billing's elbow just when
Gallagher reached his prophecy about Home Rule. She spoke without the
slightest regard for the orator's feelings.

"The chops is fried," she said.

Doyle had often heard his friend make speeches before. He had no wish to
be subjected to unnecessary oratory on a very hot day. He supported Mary
Ellen's appeal.

"It would be as well for you," he said, "to go and eat them, the way
they won't be getting cold on you."

Mr. Billing saw the wisdom of this advice at once. He turned to go into
the hotel. But he evidently wanted to hear more of Thady Gallagher's
speech.

"When I've finished my lunch," he said, "I shall look forward to a
long talk with Mr. Gallagher. I want to gather together all the local
traditions which survive about the boyhood of the great General. I'm
writing his biography, gentlemen. I need say no more."

"Mary Ellen," said Doyle, "whatever the gentleman fancies in the way of
a drink, will you see that he gets it?"

Mary Ellen, smiling pleasantly, walked in front of Mr. Billing and
conducted him to the small ill-lighted room which Doyle called