towards the precincts of the house. They were following a person in a
clerical dress, who proved to be Father Quilter, the parish priest, who
had denounced his people to Colonel Turner as "poor slaves" of the
League! A colloquy followed between Father Quilter and the policemen of
the cordon. This was brought to a close by Mr. Roche, the resident
magistrate, who went forward, and finding that Father Quilter wished to
pass the cordon, politely but firmly informed him that this could not be
done. "Not if I am the bearer of a telegram for the lawyer?" asked
Father Quilter, in a loud and not entirely amiable tone. "Not on any
terms whatever," responded the magistrate. Father Quilter still
maintaining his ground, the women crowded in around and behind him, the
men bringing up the rear at a respectable distance, and the small boys
shouting loudly. For a moment faint hopes arose within me that I was
about to witness one of the .exciting scenes of which I have more than
once read. But only for a moment. The magistrate ordered the police to
advance. As they drew near the wall with an evident intention of going
over it into the highway, Father Quilter and the women fell back, the
boys and men retreated up the opposite hill, and the brief battle of
Glenbehy was over.

A small messenger bearing a telegram then emerged from the crowd, and
showing his telegram, was permitted to pass. Father Quilter, in a loud
voice, commented upon this, crying out, "See now your consistency! You
said no one should pass, and you let the messenger come in!" To this
sally no reply was returned. After a little the priest, followed by most
of the people, went up the hill to the holding of another tenant, and
there, as the police came in and reported, held a meeting. From time to
time cries were heard in the distance, and ever and anon the blast of a
horn came from some outlying hill.