CHAPTER VIII.

BOMBARDED IN A BEDROOM-THE

POLICE STRIKE.

IN the previous chapters I have described the annoyance I was caused by the police, and the hospitality I met with from the people; but in this one I shall have to give an account of an adventure which might have terminated seriously for myself, and in which I was driven to desiderate the presence of the police; though, as they were not there when I wanted them, I may be allowed still to retain my old opinion of their inefficiency in Ireland.

I had been given an introduction to Captain Dugmore of Broughall Castle, Frankford, in King's County, and I was anxious to see him, because I had heard of him as an English officer and Conservative who had not long ago superintended in his military capacity at many evictions, but had now retired from active service and taken up the

cause of the people instead.

This seemed to me

as complete a conversion as that of St. Paul; for whereas formerly the sheriffs, as it were, laid their garments at his feet, while employed in ejecting the people from their homes, and he and his soldiers were identified with the Government which had suppressed the Land League as an illegal association, he now preached those very doctrines, and had become a prominent advocate of that very League which he had once persecuted.

Wishing to make his acquaintance for these reasons, I took a ticket one evening for Tullamore, and thence drove to Frankford, arriving at that place too late at night to present myself at Broughall Castle. There are only two inns at Frankford, one of which was boycotted at the time, and as I knew nothing about the place and left the choice to my driver's discretion, he of course landed me at the other. This turned out to be a very mouldy-looking establishment; but supposing that no better accommodation could be had I made the best of it, ordered a bedroom, and talked to several people about the state of the neighbourhood, the police, the Land League, Captain Dugmore, and other such burning ques

I

tions. I was not aware that I was in a place where the police in general, and one active constable in particular, had made themselves specially obnoxious by numerous unwarrantable arrests, and that they were the reverse of scrupulous in their methods of obtaining information which they called reliable, or in acting on their own authority without any information at all. This action of theirs had led to a state of things in which every man was afraid to trust his neighbour, and a stranger arriving suddenly in the place without credentials was liable to peculiar suspicion.

Consequently it was not long before my general inquisitiveness had caused the inhabitants to come to the conclusion that I was a detective, and as such deserved to be summarily ejected from the inn. In blissful ignorance I retired to my bedroom overhead, while a council of war was being held in the kitchen below, and the best way of dealing with me was decided on. Just before getting into bed I had looked for a key to my door, and found there was not even a bolt, much less a lock; but as I had noticed that some of the visitors to the inn seemed doubtful characters, and for the first time since I had been in Ireland felt

some anxiety for the safety of my purse, I planted a heavy piece of furniture against the door on the inside, and went to bed. Immediately afterwards, at about half past eleven, the handle was turned, and the door was violently pushed from without; but the furniture held firm, and I heard some one outside remarking that he did not know there was a lock to the door. This sounded ominous, and I demanded from my bed to be told who was there. The individual on the wrong side of the door replied that this was his room, and he was coming to bed, and I must at once retire in his favour. Concluding that some one the worse for drink had mistaken the way to his bedroom, I politely informed him that he was under a delusion, and that if he would call the servant he would be shown his right quarters for the night. At the same time I pulled lustily at a rope that was suspended over my bed, thinking to ring the bell for the aforesaid servant, but without any other result than the sudden descent of the rope itself, along with a shower of dust dislodged by its fall. This was disappointing, but I again encouraged my unknown friend to call for the servant. This, however, he declined to do; and, after another fruitless attempt to open the door, he modified

his demands, and asked to be admitted at any rate for an instant that he might take away his things, if he was really to sleep in another room. Knowing there was nothing in the room which did not belong to me, I assured him that all his things had already been removed, and that I did not intend to admit him on any consideration whatever. Upon this he began to abuse me in no measured terms, and to make further efforts to force open the door, so that I was obliged to get up and hold it against him as best I could. I now heard the voice of the landlady entreating him from a distance to come away; but for half an hour he continued his attack, and kept me in a ridiculous and somewhat chilly position, though happily on the right side of the door. Finding politeness of little avail, I tried what threats would do, and declared that if he did not depart I would come out and knock him down; but it was lucky that I did not carry out this intention, as nothing would have pleased him better, for I discovered next morning that he had three men in reserve at the foot of the stairs, ready to throw me down them as soon as he should effect an entrance into my room. Luckily for my peace of mind I was not aware of this at the time, or my night's rest