the Dean, "for the leading
of a desperate charge, for the midnight dash across the frontier--"

Some one in the audience suggested the Boyne as the boundary of the
frontier.

"I should select Colonel Malcolmson."

The audience highly approved of his choice. It seemed to me that the
people did not quite grasp the fact that the Dean was speaking only
metaphorically. Some thought of the same kind struck Moyne. He
fidgetted uneasily, Babberly made an effort to stop the Dean, but that
was impossible.

"For settling the terms of peace with the beaten enemy--"

"We'll beat them," said several people in the crowd.

"I should call upon my good friend Lord Kilmore."

This gave me a severe shock. For a moment I thought of standing up and
refusing to act as military ambassador of the Ulster army. Then I
recollected that if Moyne managed the transport and Babberly planned
the campaign it was exceedingly unlikely that there would be any
beaten enemy. I kept my seat and watched Babberly whispering
earnestly to Lady Moyne.

Malcolmson followed the Dean. Moyne leaned over to me and expressed a
hope that Malcolmson was not going to commit us to anything
outrageous. From the look of Malcolmson's eye as he rose I judged that
Moyne's hope was a vain one.

"The Dean," said Malcolmson, "has spoken to you about the campaign. I
ask you, are you prepared to undertake one?"

"Good Heavens!" said Moyne.

Babberly squeezed his way past Lady Moyne.

"This won't do," he said to Moyne, "Malcolmson mustn't go too far."

"The Dean," said Malcolmson, "has told us where to find our
commanders. Looking round upon this vast assembly of determined men I
can tell the Dean where to look for the rank and file of the army."

"You'll have to stop him," said Babberly.

I dare say the thought of the impeachment which was hanging over his
head made him nervous.

"I can't," said Lord Moyne.

"I ask those present here," said Malcolmson, "who, when the supreme
moment comes are prepared to step forward into the ranks, to hold up
their hands and swear."

Malcolmson did not make it quite clear what oaths we were to employ.
But his audience appeared to understand him. Thousands of hands were
held up and there was a kind of loud, fierce growl, which I took to be
the swearing. Lord Moyne turned to me.

"What am I to do, Kilmore?"

"I don't know," I said.

Malcolmson and the ten or twelve thousand men in front of him were
still growling like a ve