at street corners. From all parts
of the world adventurers came to renew their fortunes in the turmoil
of London, and every street was a kaleidoscope of faces and clothes and
colours, not British, not patriot, not national.

Among these outlanders were Dyck Calhoun and Michael Clones. They
had left Ireland together in the late autumn, leaving behind them the
stirrings of the coming revolution, and plunging into another revolt
which was to prove the test and trial of English character.

Dyck had left Ireland with ninety pounds in his pocket and many tons'
weight of misery in his heart. In his bones he felt tragedies on foot in
Ireland which concession and good government could not prevent. He had
fled from it all. When he set his face to Holyhead, he felt that he
would never live in Ireland again. Yet his courage was firm as he made
his way to London, with Michael Clones--faithful, devoted, a friend
and yet a servant, treated like a comrade, yet always with a little
dominance.

The journey to London had been without event, yet as the coach rolled
through country where frost silvered the trees; where, in the early
morning, the grass was shining with dew; where the everlasting green
hedges and the red roofs of villages made a picture which pleased the
eye and stirred the soul, Dyck Calhoun kept wondering what would be his
future. He had no profession, no trade, no skill except with his sword;
and as he neared London Town--when they left Hendon--he saw the smoke
rising in the early winter morning and the business of life spread out
before him, brave and buoyant.

As from the heights of Hampstead he looked down on the multitudinous
area called London, something throbbed at his heart which seemed like
hope; for what he saw was indeed inspiring. When at last, in the Edgware
Road, he drew near to living London, he turned to Michael Clones and
said:

"Michael, my lad, I think perhaps we'll find a footing here."

So they reached London, and quartered themselves in simple lodgings in
Soho. Dyck walked the streets, and now and then he paid a visit to the
barracks where soldiers were, to satisfy the thought that perhaps in the
life of the common soldier he might, after all, find his future. It was,
however, borne in upon him by a chance remark of Michael one day--"I'm
not young enough to be a recruit, and you wouldn't go alone without me,
would you?"--that this way to a livelihood was not open to him.

His faithful companion