Uncle James took out his pipe and began to fill it, slowly, in that public way which he was to bring to a fine art in years to come. He did not speak until it was in his mouth, ready to be ceremonially lighted.

“You heard, by the way, what happened in your mother’s place the evening before last?” he said, as he swept the match aflame.

“I heard one version, anyway.”

“The way those heroes of yours surrounded your mother’s servant girl...”

“Ah now, James, Madge McGarr is a hardy old stager. She could take care of herself before they were ever heard of.”

“They surrounded her, anyway, in your own yard in Rosnagree, knocked her down and brutally...”

“They asked her to join them, and when she told them to take themselves off to hell, her bucket of milk got spilled.”

“They had her on the ground, and only for your brother Frank, God alone knows what they’d have done to her.”

“I heard she chased them out of the yard and beat them over the heads with the bucket.”

“To assault a helpless female and bear her to the ground! Even the Tans themselves never did a thing like that.”

“I’d say, James, it was the first time Madge ever put bad thoughts into any man’s mind.”

“Father!” The pipe came out of his mouth and stared with him at the priest. “Father, I don’t think your spell in England did you any good.”

Father Conroy got to his feet. “Nice of you to call, James.”

Uncle James sat there, refusing to move. “I’m not at all satisfied, Father, that you know your duty in this matter.”

“And what’s that?”

“To name the blackguards responsible, to point them out from the altar on Sunday. Your brother Frank will give you all the names you want, the ones from your parish here. It’s a bad business, and it’s looking worse – they say the red flag was raised in the town of Donore. ’Tis up to us now, the responsible people, to bring the country back under law and order.”

“How would you define that, Uncle James?”

“What?”

“Law and order?”

James’s pipe suddenly failed him. He looked at it a moment, then stuffed it into his pocket. “God damn it, I’ll take this matter further.”

“Where to?” Father Conroy smiled. “My mother?”

“Father, don’t play-act with me, I’m warning you. I’ll take it to your parish priest. I’ll take it to the Bishop, if all goes to all.”

“I thought he had you excommunicated for undermining British law and order.”

“That was a misunderstanding, as you well know.”

“Ah, yes, we’re all to climb on the bandwagon now.”

James got slowly to his feet. He patted the pipe in his pocket, as if to tell it, listen to that for talk!

“He’ll be interested to hear that remark, Father.”