"The _Finola_ is lying off Bangor," said Conroy. "I'll run you and Power down there in my motor. He'll land you wherever you like." "Good," I said. "I suppose I'll go in my shirt with a rope round my neck, like the burghers of Calais." "If that's the regular costume," said Conroy. He spoke so severely that I thought I had better drop the subject of clothes. "Now, as to the terms which you are prepared to offer the Government," I said. "We will not have Home Rule," said the Dean and Malcolmson together. "Of course not," I said. "That will be understood at once. Shall I demand Mr. Redmond's head on a charger? I don't suppose you want it, but it's always well to ask for more than you mean to take. It gives the other side a chance of negotiating." "All we ask," said McNeice, "is that the English clear out of this country, bag and baggage, soldiers, policemen, tax collectors, the whole infernal crew, and leave us free hand to clean up the mess they've been making for the last hundred years." "Either that," said Malcolmson, "or fight us in earnest." "They'll clear out, of course," I said. "If it's a choice between that and fighting. But what about governing the country afterwards?" "We'll do that," said Conroy, "and if we can't do it better than they did--" "Oh, you will," I said. "Anyhow, you can't do it worse. But--there's just one point more. What about the Lord Lieutenant?" "I don't know that he matters any," said Conroy. "He doesn't," I said, "not a bit. But he's there at present, and some arrangement will have to be made about him." "If the Dublin people like airing their best clothes before an imitation king," said Cahoon, "let them. It won't matter to us." This showed me that Cahoon, at least, has a statesman's mind. In unessential matters he is ready to yield to the sentiments of his inferiors. "I understand then," I said, "that the Lord Lieutenant with the purely ornamental part of the Viceregal staff is to be allowed to remain on the condition that he gives--shall we say eight balls and eight dinner-parties every year?--and that every other Englishman leaves the country at once. Those are your terms." "And no more talk about Home Rule," said the Dean firmly. "Very well," I said, "I'll start at once." Bob Power was waiting for me in Conroy's motor when I had packed my bag. The streets were very crowded as we drove through them, and the people cheered us tremendously. It was the first time I had ever been cheered, and I found the sensation agreeable. Besides cheering, the crowd sang a great deal. Some one had composed a song especially for the occasion, which had caught the fancy of the Belfast people, and spread among them with wonderful rapidity. The tune, I am told, dates from the days of the eighteenth-century volunteer movement.