“And what may you be wanting?” said Mrs. O’Halloran. “What right have you to come battering and banging at the door of her ladyship’s house the same as if it was a public-house and you trying to get in after closing time? Be off out of this, now, the whole of you. I never seen such foolishness.” “My orders are to search the house,” said the sergeant; “rebels have been firing on us from the roof.” “There’s no rebels been firing out of this house,” said Mrs. O’Halloran, “and what’s more----” “My orders,” said the sergeant. “There’s no orders given in this house,” said Mrs. O’Halloran, “only mine and maybe her ladyship’s at odd times.” She need scarcely have mentioned Lady Devereux. An order from her was a very exceptional thing. “Our officer----” said the sergeant “Private Beggs, go and report to the officer that we are refused admission to this house.” Private Beggs turned to obey the order. The officer in charge of the party came out of the door of a house half-way along the side of the square. Mrs. O’Halloran recognised him. It was Second Lieutenant Harry Devereux. “Master Harry,” she called, “Master Harry, come here at once. Is it you that’s been raising ructions about the square? Shooting and destroying and frightening decent people into fits? Faith, I might have known it was you. If there’s divilment going you’d be in it.” Harry Devereux, intensely conscious of his responsibility as commander of men in a real fight, reached the bottom of the steps which led to his aunt’s door. “Enter the house, sergeant,” he said, “and search it.” Mrs. O’Halloran stood right in the middle of the doorway. The sergeant looked at her doubtfully and hesitated. “Come up out of that, Master Harry,” said Mrs. O’Halloran, “and don’t be trying to hide behind the sergeant. It’s no wonder you’re ashamed of yourself, but I see you plain enough. Come here now till I talk to you.” The sergeant grinned. Private Beggs, who was behind his officer, laughed openly. “Was there nowhere else in the world for you to have a battle--if a battle was what you wanted,” said Mrs. O’Halloran, “only in front of your aunt’s house? Many and many’s the time I’ve smacked you for less than what you’ve done to-day. Isn’t there bullets in her ladyship’s morning-room? Isn’t there a grand looking-glass in a gold frame gone to smithers with your shooting? Isn’t Molly and the other girls screeching this minute down in the coal cellar, for fear you’ll kill them, and now nothing will do you seemingly only to be tramping all over the house. Search it, moya, search it! But you’ll not be let, Master Harry; neither you nor the sergeant nor any of the rest of you.”