liquely if I could. I began by admiring the motor.

"She's good enough, my lord," said Crossan.

He is a man of few words, and is sparing of his praise. "Good enough"
is, from Crossan, quite an enthusiastic compliment.

"If your lordship would care about a drive any day," he said, "it'll
be a pleasure to me."

Crossan always interjects "my lord" and "your lordship" into the
middle of the remarks he makes to me; but he says the words in a very
peculiar tone. It always seems to me that he wishes to emphasize the
difference in our social station because he feels that the advantage
is all on his side. "The rank," so his tone suggests, "is but the
guinea stamp. The man"--that is in this case Crossan himself--"is the
gowd for a' that."

"You can get about the country pretty quickly in that car," I said.

Crossan looked at me with a perfectly expressionless face for some
time. Then he said said--

"If you think, my lord, that I'm neglecting my work, you've only to
say so and I'll go."

I hastened to assure him that I had no intention of finding fault with
him in any way. My apology was as ample as possible. After another
minute spent in silent meditation Crossan expressed himself satisfied.

"It suits me as little to be running round the country," he said, "as
it would suit your lordship."

"I quite understand that," I said. "But then I don't do it. You do."

"It has to be," said Crossan.

I did not quite see why it had to be; but Crossan spoke with such
conviction that I dared not contradict him and did not even like to
question him. Fortunately he explained himself.

"I'm the Grand Master, as your lordship is aware," he said.

"Worshipful" is the title of courtesy applied to Grand Masters, and
I'm sure no one ever deserved it better than Crossan.

"If we're not ready for them, my lord, they'll have our throats cut in
our beds as soon as ever they get Home Rule."

"They," of course were the "Papishes," Crossan's arch enemies.

I wanted very much to hear more of his activities among the Orangemen.
I wanted to know what steps he, as Grand Master, was taking to
prevent cut-throats creeping in on us while we slept. I thought I
might encourage him by telling him something he would be pleased to
hear.

"McConkey," I said, "who is foreman in the Green Loaney Scutching
Mill, is buying a splendid quick-firing gun."

The remark did not have the effect I hoped for. It had an exactly
opposite effect. Crossan shut