oyne, "if only we get
out of the mess we're in, nothing that happens afterwards need trouble
us in the least."

"If this meeting of his is really a success," I said, "we may feel
pretty confident that there'll be no more shooting anyhow."

The next telegram, the short one, rather dashed our hopes of immediate
peace. It was from Lady Moyne.

"The Channel Fleet," she said, "has been ordered to Belfast Lough.
Expected to arrive to-morrow morning. Advise unconditional surrender."

Moyne is very fond of his wife, and has a sincere admiration for her
abilities; but on the receipt of this telegram he lost his temper.

"What on earth," he said, "is the use of advising unconditional
surrender when Conroy and Malcolmson are engaged at this moment in
making plans for sinking the Fleet with rifles?"

"I quite agree with you," I said. "There's no kind of use our going to
them again. But I don't expect they're relying entirely on rifles.
Malcolmson always said he understood explosives. He may be laying
submarine mines opposite Carrickfergus."

Lady Moyne's telegram was not the only warning we received of the
approaching visit of the Channel Fleet. Our system of leaving the
telegraph wires intact proved to be an excellent one. Everybody in
Belfast learnt that the Fleet was coming. Everybody, so far as I could
learn, received the news with joy. Bland was tremendously excited. He
called on me next morning, and invited me to go with him to see the
British Fleet in action. He had been up very early and found a place,
so he said, from which we could have a capital view of the bombardment
of the town.

"I've got two pairs of field-glasses," he said, "Zeiss prism
binoculars. We'll see the whole show capitally."

"Was there much other looting last night?" I asked.

"There was none," said Bland. "I hired the glasses. I got them for
five shillings. Cheap, I call it; but the optician who owned them
seemed to think they'd be safer if I had them than they would be in
his shop. More out of the way of shells, I expect."

Moyne refused to come with us. He still cherished the hope of being
able to surrender himself during the day to some one in recognizable
authority. Bland and I set out together.

We hurried along High Street, past the Albert Memorial and crossed the
bridge to the south side of the river. The streets were full of
volunteers, marching about, all in the highest spirits. The prospect
of being shelled by the Fleet did not