hen things went wrong with him--

'Tis but in vain
For soldiers to complain.'"

"What started the riot?" asked Donald. "The Lord knows. Those dragoons
only marched into the town this afternoon. I suppose the devil entered
into them, if the devil's ever out of them at all."

"I guess," said Donald, "those were the lads that marched through Antrim
this morning."

"The very same."

"They're strangers to the town, then?"

"Ay; I don't suppose one of them ever saw Belfast before."

"Tell me this, then. How did they know what house to attack? They came
straight here."

"It was my sign angered them. They couldn't abide the sight of
Dumouriez' honest face in a Belfast street.

"Then let us fight about, Dumouriez;
Then let us fight about, Dumouriez;
Then let us fight about,
Till freedom's spark is out,
Then we'll be damned no doubt--Dumouriez."

"You miss the point, man; you miss my point. How did they know about
your sign or you either, unless someone told them?"

There was a knocking, gentle at first, and then more confident, at the
street door. Donald looked inquiringly at his host.

"It's all right," said Matlier, "I know that knock. It's James Bigger, a
safe man."

He left the room and returned with a young man whom he introduced to
Donald Ward.

"We were just talking about the riot," said Donald. "What's your opinion
about it, Mr. Bigger?"

"There are five houses wrecked," said Bigger, "and every one of them the
house of a man in sympathy with reform and liberty and the Union."

Donald and Matier exchanged glances.

"They were well informed," said Donald. "They knew what they were at,
and where to go."

"They say," said Bigger, "that the leaders of the different parties had
papers in their hands with directions on them. They were seen looking at
them in the streets."

"I'd like to put my hand on one of those papers," said Donald.

"Zipperty, zipperty, zand,"

quoted Matier,

"I wish I'd a bit of that in my hand."

"You know the old rhyme."

Neal lay quiet, but wide awake. The conversation interested him too
much to allow him to sleep. Twice he tried to speak, but each time Peg
Macllrea, determined now that he was under her care to keep him quiet,
put her hand over his mouth. At last he succeeded in asserting himself
in spite of her.

"I saw James Finlay," he said, "along with a party of the soldiers going
up this street."

The three men at