the Virgin in whose honour good Protestants were
little likely to build a church. But the classic portico and tall tower
did not hold his attention long. He could not but notice that there was
an air of anxious excitement in the demeanour of the citizens who passed
him in the street. They were all hurrying one way, making from one
direction or another for the side street whose entrance faced the
church. Neal accosted one or two, but received either no answer or words
uttered so hurriedly that he could not catch their import. Determined
at length to get some intelligible reply to his questions, he pulled his
horse across the path of an elderly gentleman of respectable appearance.

"Will you tell me," he said, "the way to North Street? I am a stranger
in your town."

"And if you are a stranger you will do well to keep out of North Street
the night."

"But I seek a house of entertainment to which I have been
directed--Felix Matier's inn at the sign of Dumouriez."

"Who are you, young man, who seek that house? They say----. But let me
pass, let me pass. I am the secretary of William Bristow, the sovereign
of Belfast, and I must see for myself, I must see for myself what these
incarnate devils of dragoons are doing in our streets."

"I will not let you pass," said Neal, "till you give me a civil answer
to my question. I think you citizens of Belfast are as uncivil as men
say you are, and are all gone mad to-night that you will not direct a
stranger on his way."

"A wilful man, a wilful man. Follow me. Or, let me lay my hand on your
bridle. The crowd gathers fast. It may be that your horse, if I keep by
it, will enable me to push my way through. But blame me not if you come
by a broken head through your wilfulness."

Neal's guide, the sovereign's pursy and excited secretary, led the horse
down the side street, along which the people were hurrying. Suddenly the
crowd hesitated, stopped, began to surge back again. Neal, standing up
in his stirrups, saw that the end of the narrow street along which he
rode was blocked by another crowd, which fled into it from a larger
thoroughfare beyond. There was much trampling and pushing and shouting.
Neal's guide, clinging desperately to the horse's bridle, was borne
back. The horse began to plunge. This was too much for the old
gentleman. He loosed his grip.

"Go on," he said, "go on if you can, young man. That's the North Street
in front of you."

The reason for the crowd's fl