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message from Daly that the old man would be "in dread of his life to come near the place."

My people were unconvinced by Flavin's Sinn Fein theory, and indeed there seemed no evidence to support it. Horgan had always impressed them with his soundness and loyalty, and though his present conduct seemed inexplicable, it was hard to believe that he had suddenly joined the rebels. They were also sceptical about the boyoott.

Nevertheless the grocer's cart failed unaccountably to appear, in spite of repeated assurances by telephone from the manager that we should receive our provisions in " an hour or two at the latest."

On the third day our store of food was decidedly low. The baker's cart had not come, neither had the butcher's. The jarvey oars refused to convey parcels to us. The laundress sent word that she could no longer take our washing, and the coal-store telephoned that they had no coal for us just at present.

In the evening Flavin, white as a sheet and almost in tears, told us that he had been set upon by Horgan and Leahy and their friends waving red flags, and threatening to "pull him down and beat him," so he dared not come to work any more. Also he said he had overheard talk of cutting the telephone wire.

Short of food and in darkness (for there was nobody to work the electrio-light engine,

and there were no candles in the house), we got through another night. Next day, reduced literally to our last orast, we had to face the fact that apart from the house servants there was nobody to do a hand's turn of work. Matters reached a climax when, on trying to use the telephone, we discovered that the wire was out.

My people and I held a hurried consultation, and decided to apply to the police. One could not go on without food, and entirely cut off from the outside world. Moreover, there was always the possibility of accidents or illness without means even of sending for the deotor. To tell the truth, I didn't quite like the look of things that day, and my people were decidedly worried. I determined to make my way in to Danreagh, and explain the situation myself to the District Inspector.

You will wonder, perhaps, why we didn't ask our friends for help. You see, we were still in doubt as to the real cause of our troubles, and, for all we knew, by asking for help we might have exposed our friends to similar unpleasantness. You cannot, in Ireland, help 8 boycotted person without running the risk of being boycotted yourself.

I set off for Dunreagh, hoping I might not fall in with Horgan and Leahy and their red flags. Luck favoured me, for they were nowhere to be seen. On reaching Dun

reagh I went straight to the more credit he will win

the District Inspector's house and laid the whole case before him. He took me to the police station to consult the Head Constable. We went in through a small high-walled courtyard at the back of the building. The main-door is never used now, for it is overlooked by some gardens, and consequently is considered unsafe. The District Inspector showed me into a corner room on the top floor, and left me while he fetched the Head Constable. Near the one small window which faced out to sea a policeman sat at a typewriter. He rose politely on seeing me, and I exclaimed at the fine view. His reply was characteristic of the times and country. He said


Indeed, 'tis a grand safe view. Not a one could be shot in this room, except, maybe, from an aeroplane.'

When the District Inspector reappeared with the Head Constable, I went over all that had happened during the last few days, omitting only Flavin's confidenees.

The Head Constable was by no means surprised at Horgan having made trouble.

"But," I peinted out, "he was getting good wages, and everything else he asked forwhy should he have gone on strike?"

"It is not a genuine strike," he said; "as I understand it, the plan is to make things uncomfortable for you as gentry and loyalists. The better Horgan succeeds in this

in Sinn Fein ranks. You may believe me, he is a deliberate organiser of trouble. He has attended every Sinn Fein meeting for the last two years. He is a red-hot Sinn Feiner himself and 8 thorough scoundrel!"

I was fairly astonished at this, and I remembered uncomfortably how I used to discuss the war and Sinn Fein with him. I remember, too, the vague suspicions I had smothered from time to time.

During the discussion that followed, the District Inspector offered us police protection, which I refused, as it seemed too ridiculous. All I wanted was help in procuring food, that the telephone should be repaired, and that the police should ring us up morning and evening to ascertain if the wire was intact.

The District Inspector promised to provide a police escort if I could find a vehicle to take out supplies. Meanwhile he would make further inquiries and would meet me at the hotel an hour later. I went round the shops and bought food. The shopowners, with whispered apologies for having "disappointed" us, personally attended to me. Screened from their assistants by cases of goods and half-opened doors, they explained that every one in their employment belonged to the "organisation," and that they, the employers, were practically powerless. As for the assistants themselves, formerly civil in the extreme,

they behaved as though I were invisible! I realised that they also were in the grip of the "organisation," besides probably being all afraid of one another!

Eventually when I assembled my parcels at the hotel, the District Inspector met me with the information that he had failed to find any means of conveying them to Gortnacool, He was obliged to hurry back to the police station, leaving me to manage as best I could. While I stood rather disconsolately on the hotel steps, wondering how I was to carry out some dozen loaves, a stone of flour, a hind-quarter of mutton, and groceries of all sorts, the military ambulance passed up the street. Instantly I had an inspiration, and rush ing to the telephone rang up the military hospital. It was impossible to explain the situation for fear of being overheard, but on grasping that I was in difficulties at the Dunreagh Hotel, and wanted the ambulance, the P.M.O. lost no time in coming down himself, after which all went smoothly.

Before starting for home I looked in at the police station to tell them of my arrangements.

The sergeant admitted me to the courtyard, and I was beginning to give my message when a middle-aged man wearing dark tweed clothes and a panama hat orossed the yard and intervened almost peremptorily.

"The sun is hot out here,"

he said, "you would be more comfortable inside."

He rapped on the door of the barrack, which opened instantly. Inside, with the door olosed, he apologised. "It was unsafe to talk outside," he said. "Even that courtyard is unsafe. Perhaps you did not notice a young man wearing a grey cap standing in the corner? Well, he asked for admission on some pretext just as you came to the gate. He is a spy."

I looked at him, bewildered. The sergeant murmured, "Head - Constable Dash-the plain - clothes man," and I understood.

"Miss Blank," went on the detective, "I must urge you to be careful. You cannot be too careful. I have been making inquiries, and-well, these are queer times."

The District Inspector then joined us.

"I have despatched a party of police to Gortnacool," he said. "I know you did not wish it, but from information since received I decided you must have protection."

Of course there was nothing to be said to this, especially when the detective added

"You must have the police living in the house. Things may take a serious turn at any moment. It may be necessary to have a strong force out there to-morrow."

Feeling pleasantly thrilled, I stowed myself and my parcels in the ambulance and started for home, accompanied by the P.M.O. and some R.A.M.C.

orderlies, who were just longing for a sorap with the Sinn Feiners!

Nothing happened, however, though we met the enemy and their Bolshevik flags, and had to pass under a big red flag which, with amazing insolence, they had hoisted over our front gate.

Next day the news of our predicament had spread through the neighbourhood, and many kind friends came to Gortnacool offering help and bringing food. They scorned all risk of the boycott being extended to them, declaring that if the worst came to the worst we should all fight together, and the country would be the better for it in the longrun. Indeed, our friends were splendid, and but for their help we could never have obtained enough food. The police, when boycotted, can draw supplies from the Army Service Corps, but this source is closed to civilians. In fact, the law of the land makes it possible for civilian loyalists to be starved to death at the bidding of any disaffected person.

Our daily bread being ensured, we settled down to a new sort of existence, which, so far as I was concerned, though strenuous, was by no means unamusing. Each day it was my business to pick vegetables and water all the plants-three frames of toof tomatoes and cucumbers, three houses of tomatoes, one of peaches, and one of mixed plants, over 100 chrysanthe

mums, and about 100 other plants placed about in sheltered spots to keep cool. Then there was the ripe fruit to be picked, the over-ripe to be cleared off, and windfalls to be collected. The drinking-tubs for cattle and horses in the fields required refilling, and this meant catching the farm mare, harnessing her, filling the water-butt, and taking the cart up the hill to the fields. I was elumsy at first. Twice I upset the cart turning corners in the steep and narrow bohereen. Several times I was walked upon and nearly knocked down, and my arms and shoulders are still all over bruises from the mare's teeth, for she is a badtempered animal, and never lost an opportunity of biting me.


The police were always to the fore. Two of them, with loaded revolvers and fourteen rounds of ammunition, accompanied one everywhere. first it was amusing. One felt like royalty. As time went on, one felt more like a prisoner; and when the days grew shorter, and one could never go for a stroll in the dusk without hearing the heavy steady footsteps following, I began to realise what 8 lunatio guarded by his keepers must feel like!

At night two eonstables sat on the smoking-room windowsill. I used to hear their voices through my sleep. Towards 3 A.M. the sergeant went round with an electric torch. During meals two would stroll about near the dining-room

on end I don't think we were ever out of sight or hearing of the R.I.C.

Meanwhile, Horgan having failed in his attempt to starve us, set to work to be as unpleasant as possible. He sent word that Mrs Flavin would no longer be allowed to milk the cows, and that he had arranged that our harvest was "to be left to rot in the fields." The servants received a note from him ordering them, in threatening language, to leave our service at once.

windows-in fact, for weeks inconvenienees and annoyances which he had heard were to be inflicted upon us. No servant or workman was to be allowed into the place. A strict boycott was to be maintained for a whole year, during which time we should be dependent upon our friends for food. We should be unable to have any washing done, or to get any coal. These were among the minor annoyances. What was more serious was that Horgan had a powerful organisation behind him, which would stick at nothing. The Dunreagh branch of Sinn Fein was daily increasing in strength and audacity. Even now it was unsafe for the police reliefs to come to Gortnacool at regular hours. There were several spots along the road where they could be ambushed and shot. It would be necessary to tell off a force to live here permanently, and thus avoid coming and going at stated hours. As time went on matters might become more and more serious. The hay might be set on fire. cattle might be mutilated. There might even be a loss of life to others than the police, for, as he delicately put it, Sinn Feiners seldom hesitate to use firearms.

They took no notice, so on Sunday when they went to Mass, he followed them, waving a red flag, shouting abuse, and doing his utmost to terrify them. The police served a notice upon him to leave his house, and he announced that he recognised no Court except a Sinn Fein one, and no laws except those of the Irish Republic. He was warned that he would be evicted, and replied that he would fight.

One morning shortly after this the Head Constable eame to interview me. He asked me to suggest to my father that he should make an attempt to come to terms with Horgan and end the boycott. I was dead against it. Indeed, I saw no possibility of making terms with a man who first had refused to state his demands, and then had deliberately embarked upon a course of malice and intimidation. The Head Constable suggested that perhaps I did not realise what we should have to face if we held out. He reeled off a number of


It W88 indeed a horrid position, and one could not help feeling discouraged and even alarmed at the prospect. Yet I could see no possibility of a satisfactory compromise. Apart from the loss of prestige to our class—a loss which would mean more in Ireland

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