It was ten o’clock before these arrangements were completed and the step-ladders taken away. Dr. O’Grady went into the barrack and warned Sergeant Colgan that he would be held personally responsible if any curious wayfarer pulled the string before the proper time. Sergeant Colgan at once ordered Moriarty to mount guard over the statue. Dr. O’Grady went over to the hotel and inspected the luncheon table. He had laid it himself the night before, so he felt fairly confident that everything was as it should be; but he was not inclined to run any risks. It was just possible that Doyle, acting on advice from somebody else, might have altered the position of the spoons and forks during the night. “It’ll be after lunch,” said Dr. O’Grady, “that we’ll introduce the subject of a pier.” “Then or sooner,” said Doyle. “Hints will have been given before that,” said Dr. O’Grady. “Father McCormack has promised to touch on the undeveloped condition of our fishing industry when he’s making his introductory remarks previous to the unveiling of the statue. If I get half a chance, I mean to point out what excellent stones there are in that old mill of yours. The matter is distinctly alluded to at the end of the illuminated address, but I’m afraid they’re not likely to read that till they get back to Dublin, if then. I suppose, by the way, the address has arrived all right?” “It has,” said Doyle, “but I haven’t it unpacked yet. It’s in a case.” “We’d better have it quite ready. Get a screwdriver, will you, and a hammer.” The address turned out to be very large indeed and most magnificently coloured. In the top left-hand corner was a small photograph of the market square of Ballymoy, without the statue. In the right-hand Corner was a picture, supplied by Mr. Aloysius Doyle, of the statue itself. In the bottom left-hand corner was a photograph of the Viceregal Lodge in the Phoenix Park, and opposite it a portrait of the Lord-Lieutenant in his state robes. The whole left-hand side of the address was occupied by an immensely complicated design made up of spirals, serpents, and trumpet pattern ornaments, which twisted in and out of each other in a way most bewildering to the eye. This was supposed to represent the manner in which ancient Irish artists made the letter “t,” when they were not in a hurry. “T” is the first letter of the word “to” with which the actual address began. The words “Excellency,” “Lord,” and “Lieutenant” were similarly honoured with capital letters of Celtic design, but inferior size. “Ireland,” which came on a line to itself, was blazoned in red and green, on a background of dull gold, laid on smoothly, and afterwards dinted here and there with some instrument which must have resembled a blunt pin. The rest of the letter-press was done in crooked, angular characters, very ornamental to look at, but most difficult to read.