I knew the way Babberly had been talking. I knew the way Lady Moyne
had goaded him and others to talk, but poor Moyne hardly ever talked
at all. All he ever wanted was to be left alone.

"Well, I can't exactly go back on them now when they're doing what we
said they ought to do. I've got to see the thing through. After all
it's my fault that those poor fellows are in this horrible mess."

He glanced back as he spoke. He was thinking of the angry crowd we had
left behind us.

"So you'll take care of the ladies," he said. "Run them down to Castle
Affey and make yourself as comfortable as you can. They won't be
expecting you, but they'll manage some sort of dinner."

"I'm not going," I said. "I'm staying on in Belfast."

"But why should you? You've no responsibility. You've never taken any
part in our--It's very good of you to think of staying. It really is.
And I appreciate the spirit in which--But--"

"For goodness' sake, Moyne," I said, "don't give me credit for any
kind of heroism. That _noblesse oblige_ attitude of yours doesn't suit
me a bit. It isn't in my line."

"But hang it all, Kilmore, you can't be staying here for the fun of
it."

"I've often told you," I said, "that I'm writing a history of the
Irish Rebellions. I naturally want to see one, and there isn't likely
to be another in my time. That's my only reason for staying in
Belfast."

We found Lady Moyne waiting for us when we reached the hotel. She was
wearing a long cloak, and had a motor-veil tied over her head. She was
evidently prepared to start at once.

"I've ordered the car," she said. "It ought to be round now. Marion's
coming with me, Lord Kilmore. I think she'd be better out of Belfast
for the next few days."

The news of the decision of our committee seemed to have spread with
quite unexampled rapidity. We came straight from the meeting, and we
found that Lady Moyne had already recognized the necessity for flight.

"I'm glad you're going," said Moyne, "and I'm glad you're taking
Marion with you. But how did you know? Who told you what--?"

"That young man who's Mr. Conroy's secretary," said Lady Moyne. "I
forget his name."

"Bob Power," I said.

"He came in to see Marion, and he told us."

Bob must have known beforehand what the committee's decision was to
be. I realized that Conroy must have had the whole plan cut and dried;
that the meeting at which Moyne presided was simply a farce. However,
there was nothing to be gaine