wn and filled his pipe. Neal, interested to watch the evening street
traffic in a strange town, climbed on to the deep sill of the window and
pushed the lattice open. A blind piper sat on a stone bench outside the
inn and played a reel for some boys and girls who danced on the road. A
horseman--a handsomely-dressed man and well mounted--rode slowly up the
street towards Lord Massereene's demesne. One of the dancers crossed
his way and caused the horse to shy. The rider cut at the girl with his
whip. An angry growl followed the retreating figure. The piper stopped
playing for a minute and listened. His face wore that eager look of
strained attention which is seen often on the faces of the blind. He
began to play again, and this time his tune was the "Ca Ira." It was
well-known to his audience and its significance was understood. Several
voices began to hum it in unison with the pipes. More voices joined,
and in a minute or two the little crowd was shouting the tune. A grave,
elderly man, in the dark dress and white bands of a clergyman, stepped
out of a house opposite the inn and approached the piper. The dancers
and the onlookers stopped singing and saluted him respectfully. He spoke
to the piper.

"Don't be playing that tune, Phelim. Play your reel again. There's
trouble where those French tunes are played. It was so in Belfast a
while ago. We want no riot in Antrim nor dragoons in our streets."

"I'm thinking," said the blind man, "that it's the voice of Mr.
Macartney, the Rector of Antrim, that I'm listening to. Well, reverend
sir, I'll stop my tune at your bidding. Not because you're a magistrate,
nor yet because you're a great man, but just for the sake of the letter
you wrote to save William Orr from being hanged."

The pipes gave a long wail and were silent. Then another man came up the
street. Neal could not see his face, for his hat was slouched over it,
but the sound of his voice reached the open window.

"What's this, boys? What's this? Which of you is it bids the piper stop
his tune? It's only cowards and Orangemen that don't like that tune."

The voice struck Neal as one that he had heard before, but he could not
recollect where he had heard it. He leaned out of the window to hear
better.

The clergyman stepped out into the road and confronted the newcomer.

"It was I who bid the piper stop that tune. What have you to say to me?"

The other approached him swaggering, then hesitated, stood still, took