e most uncomfortable. Bland,
however, seemed quite cheerful, and I admired the instinct which led
him to attach himself to Moyne's carriage. He made sure of being
present at the outbreak of hostilities, since the meeting could
neither be held nor stopped till Moyne arrived; and he had hit upon
far the easiest way of getting through the crowd which thronged
Donegal Place.

At a quarter to one Bob Power and his company arrived. Instead of
marching to the scene of the meeting Bob halted and drew his men
across the end of the street right underneath the club windows.
Crossan, with another company of volunteers, joined him.

Bob and Crossan consulted together, and Bob gave an order which I
could not hear. Two of his men laid down their rifles and ran along
the street, one taking each side of the line of trams. They shouted to
the people on the roofs of the trams as they passed them. The orders,
if they were orders, were obeyed. There was a hurried stampede of
women and children. They climbed down from the trams and ran along the
street towards my end of it. Bob's men opened their ranks and let them
go through.

One after another the shops in the streets were closed. Roller blinds
and shutters covered the windows. A telegraph boy on a red bicycle
rode through Bob's lines into the empty street. He stopped and
dismounted, evidently puzzled by the deserted appearance of the
street. Two of the volunteers seized him and took the envelope from
his wallet. They sent him back to the post-office. The poor boy was so
frightened that he left his bicycle behind him.

Bob gave an order and one of his men took the bicycle and rode off in
the direction of the meeting. A few minutes later one of the club
waiters brought the telegram to me. It was from Lady Moyne.

"Saw the Prime Minister this morning. He is taking all possible
measures to avoid bloodshed. Has telegraphed instructions to the
military authorities. Tell Moyne. Am sending duplicate message to him.
Want to make sure of reaching him."

I glanced at my watch. It was five minutes past one; evidently too
late to tell Moyne anything. Whatever was happening at the scene of
the meeting had begun to happen at one o'clock. I waited.

Ten minutes later a motor car, driven at a furious pace, dashed round
the corner at the far end of the street, and sped towards us. A single
passenger sat beside the driver. I recognized him at once. It was
Clithering. Halfway down the street he sudd