It was a fine but gusty evening late in May. The sun shone brilliantly. In the grass-grown bohereen leading over the crest of the hill the wind scattered hawthorn petals and furzeblossoms till the air seemed full of mingled snow and fire. Here and there an eddy had whirled the blossoms into lines of white and yellow on the vivid green grass.

"The Sinn Fein colours, ma'am !" Bat Cronin said in an awestruck voice. "God help us is the whole world itself gone Sinn Fein?"

Its

We came round an angle of rocky cliff into the sudden calm of the little glen. sheltered banks were sprinkled with flowers-white, pale mauve, and gold shining through the rain-like growth of young grass. A brown and silver stream led downwards to a tranquil pool. Here a tall horse-chestnut tree stood full in the evening sunshine. The salt gales from the sea must have touched this tree just when its leaves were unfolding, for the upper branches hung in broken disorder, the remnants of leaves were shrivelled and black. But the creamy blossoms had burst out after the gale had passed. They stood erect and fresh and luminous on the blasted discoloured branches, giving a strange impression of unassailable serenity. They made me think of altar candles burning in a shell-shattered church.

Behind the chestnut tree blackthorns grew thickly

among scattered rocks halfhidden by tall ferns. Michael Dinneen was sitting on a low rock where the thorn-trees meeting overhead formed kind of leafy cavern. I saw that he was very thin. The light filtering through the leaves intensified the pallor of his face. His left sleeve was pinned to his coat pocket. At first sight he appeared a shattered man.

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When he looked up, however, his expression showed no distress. His eyes were smiling and almost gay. It was evident that the cheerful imperturbable spirit which endured the horrors of war had not been broken by the turmoil of peace. 'Tis the hairo that I'm after telling ye about, ma'am,' said Cronin, thrusting forward. "Look at him, the brave fellow ! He always was a strong boy and a healthy boy, and now, glory be to God! his constitootion is completely broken down!"

Having effected this introduction, he withdrew through the thorn bushes. He had already shown considerable courage and independence in befriending the boycotted exsoldier. There was no immediate need for him to incur further risk.

A similar thought must have come to Dinneen, for he commented on the old man's kindness, adding, "They'll hardly touch him though, ma'am. The republicans don't care about the old men. It's the young lot they want to draw

no

If

Dinneen went on: "I'm not saying that what he does is right; it's his spirit I admire. He's sincere and straight himself, and wouldn't force any one to go agin their conscience. He's not agin the Government because it's English, but because he believes it has right to govern Ireland. you'd be arguing, he'd say, Well, and what about conscription? If the English were our rightful rulers they'd surely have forced us to join their army.' And many think the same. Sure, if a government has no faith in itself, it can't blame any one for doubting or disobeying it."

6

This indeed was undeniable. For through unjust inaction in Ireland the Government has denied its just assertions.

"I'm sorryfor Teige, ma'am,"

"He had

continued Dinneen. bad luck. I knew him when we were training near Carrigarinka in '15. He used to be hanging about watching the drilling wistful-like, wanting to join up and fight the Germans, and tormented in his mind because the other side was telling him he'd be a traitor to Ireland if he did. There were thousands like him in the country, though I'm not saying all of them were as keen as he to do the right sportsmanlike thing. But they'd have given the eyes out of their heads to fight on one side or the other. They were only waiting for a definite lead. And England just stepped back and let them go Sinn Fein."

While he spoke I watched him, wondering at his unembittered generosity. Traces of recent ill-treatment showed plainly on his face. The mere fact of his presence in the glen

-a man crippled in his country's service, driven to obtain food by stealth-was, I felt, disgraceful evidence of Sinn Fein's inhuman cowardly methods. It was also a terrible indictment against the Government that such things should be possible.

I determined to spare no effort to ensure comfort and just treatment for Dinneen.

As I walked homewards I caught sight of a man slipping through the bushes at the entrance of the glen.

It was Teige O'Leary.

I lay awake late that night thinking out plans for Dinneen's welfare.

It was by no means easy to see my way, for there was nobody I could ask to help me. Neighbours of my own class were few and far between, and every one already found it hard enough to "carry on " amid the ever-increasing difficulties that only that only Southern loyalists know.

The Carrigarinka villagers must on no account be involved in my schemes lest the boycott should be extended to them, in which case Dinneen's life might become unendurable. Nor was any form of public support at the moment available. In the nearest town the pensions offices, together with other Government buildings, had recently been burned down. Weeks must elapse before they would be sufficiently re-established to give any practical help. The police, our usual protectors, were themselves boycotted, and isolated behind the sandbags and steel shutters of their barracks. Moreover, within the last fortnight the District Inspector, a sergeant, and three constables had been shot dead, and the duties of the R.I.C. were now carried out by the military.

And I hesitated to bring the matter to the soldiers' notice, for it was well known that in order to avoid injuring Sinn Fein susceptibilities their every

action was delayed and hampered by official red tape. They were themselves victims to a policy of " conciliation," and any application for help would probably be referred from one authority to another before definite results could be obtained. Meanwhile Dinneen might starve.

There remained old Bat Cronin, who doubtless would aid and abet me to the best of his ability, though it was only too likely he would be detected and punished. Indeed, he might already be under suspicion, for surely no mere chance had brought Teige O'Leary to the glen at the very hour that Dinneen received his daily supplies. Though I believed the young Sinn Feiner had not actually seen me on that occasion, I felt uneasily that he was out to obtain evidence against Cronin, and had perhaps intended to intercept him.

Think how I would, the matter resolved itself into a contest between three loyalists and one rebel. But the rebel had the whole unscrupulous power of Sinn Fein behind him.

It was at this point that an unreasonable and extraordinary idea suggested itself, which at first I smothered as being too outrageous for sober consideration. Impatient with myself I switched off the light and tried to go to sleep.

I sat on the bank in the garden watching Bat Cronin, who, having reduced the peas to order, was now paying attention to the grass under the laburnums.

Every swing of the scythe in his lean old hands seemed to mow down a smooth halfcircle, but the next instant the stronger tufts of grass would spring up again, bent but unsevered by the rusty blade. Just so, I reflected, when one stroke of reason swept my plan aside, a few strong points in its favour arose irrepressibly.

Mere reason is sometimes a blunt and unsatisfactory tool.

Cronin, scenting an opportunity for conversation, approached.

I asked a few casual questions concerning Teige O'Leary. Cronin shot me a keen glance before inquiring—

And why would your ladyship's honour be bothering yourself about that thrash?"

Without waiting for a reply, he went on, "He's something about the one age with me youngest boy-him that went out beyond France to Gallopoli, and was blown to bits by the haythen, glory be to God! Them Learys is a quare lot entirely, and as wild as the wind. Indeed, some people did be saying that Teige's grandfather was in league with the fairies, and 'twas themselves taught him the music

for the boys and girls in the evenings at the little rock of the dancing, and sometimes maybe there'd be others dancing there too, unbeknownst. Anny time the old fella'd play his fiddle or his pipes ye'd hear more music than himself 'ud be making. There'd be whistling and singing, very soft and quiet, and piping. And if ye'd hear the piping before dawn 'tis dead some one'd be, and the saints themselves couldn't prevint it."

"What about Teige?" I interposed, trying to keep the old man to the point; but he pursued his own line of thought without deviation.

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Teige himself is mad on the music. Sure he'd play tunes going to his death! He always had a great wish for the fairies-the on-natural fella! I heard tell he seen a witch once, and she riding upon a say-gull. She threwn herself off the say-gull on top of the potatoes. ''Tis to blight yees I've come,' says she to them, the English Governmint have it settled with me, and ye'll not get to grow at all,' and with that she drew the fog down on them as thick as the smoke of hell."

Inwardly I laughed at this fresh instance of English injustice to Ireland. Aloud I said

It would have been better if Teige had joined up for the war instead of studying the fairies."

"Well now, ma'am, that's