The unusually loud noise made by the band reached Thady Gallagher in the bar of the hotel. He stopped abruptly in the middle of a speech which he was making to Mr. Billing. After a moment’s hesitation he rushed to the door of the hotel. The sight of the people, standing bare-headed and silent while the band played, convinced him that Dr. O’Grady was in the act of perpetrating a treacherous trick upon the sincerely patriotic but unsuspecting inhabitants of Ballymoy. Standing at the door of the hotel he shouted and waved his arms. Mr. Billing stood behind him looking on with an expression of serious interest. Nobody could hear what Gallagher said. But Father McCormack and Doyle, fearing that he would succeed in making himself audible, hurried towards him. Doyle seized him by the arm, Gallagher shook him off angrily. “It shall never be said,” he shouted, “that I stood silent while an insult was heaped upon Ballymoy and the cause of Nationalism in Ireland.” “Whisht, now whisht,” said Father McCormack. “Sure there’s nothing to be angry about.” “There is what would make any man angry, any man that has the welfare of Ireland at heart. That tune——” “It isn’t that tune at all,” said Father McCormack. “It’s another one altogether.” “It’s not another,” said Gallagher, “but it’s the one I mean. Didn’t Constable Moriarty say it was?” “Oughtn’t you to listen to his reverence,” said Doyle, “more than to Moriarty? But if you won’t do that, can’t you hear the tune for yourself?” “I can hear it; and what’s more I can see the Major with his hat off and the young fellow that’s down from Dublin Castle with his hat off, and the doctor——” “It’s my belief, Thady,” said Doyle, “that you’re three parts drunk. It would be better for you to go back into the hotel.” He caught Gallagher by the arm as he spoke and held him fast Young Kerrigan reached the end of his tune with a triumphant flourish. Dr. O’Grady put on his hat again. One by one the various bystanders followed his example. Lord Alfred Blakeney looked round him, puzzled. “Surely that wasn’t the National Anthem?” he said. “I thought,” said Dr. O’Grady, “that you didn’t know one tune from another.” “I don’t; but, hang it all, a man can’t be aide-decamp to His Excellency without getting to know the sound of the National Anthem. What tune was it and why did we all take off our hats?” “You tell the Lord-Lieutenant when you get back,” said Dr. O’Grady, “that we all, including Major Kent, who’s a strong Unionist, stood bare-headed while the band played. He’ll be able to guess what tune it was, and he’ll be pleased.” “But it wasn’t the——” “A speech will now be made,” said Dr. O’Grady, addressing the crowd, “by Lord Alfred Blakeney as representative of the Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland.” “But I’m not,” said Lord Alfred clutching at Dr. O’Grady. “His Excellency will be furious if he hears——” “Go on,” said Dr. O’Grady pushing him towards the statue. “Stand on the pedestal.”