“There’ll be a riot,” said the Major.
“There’ll be no riot whatever,” said Dr. O’Grady, “if the thing’s managed properly.”
“It’s your affair, of course,” said Gregg, “but I don’t particularly want to have you going about under police protection, and that’s what you’ll be doing if Thady Gallagher catches you corrupting the nationalist principles of the people of Ballymoy by teaching the town band to play ‘God Save the King.’”
This threat seemed to produce a certain effect on Dr. O’Grady. He sat silent for nearly a minute. Then he asked Gregg for a cigarette, lit it, and smoked thoughtfully.
“I say, Gregg,” he said at last. “How many people are there in Ballymoy, do you think, who would recognise ‘God Save the King’ if it was played suddenly when they weren’t expecting it?”
“Oh, lots,” said Gregg, “lots.”
“You would, I suppose,” said Dr. O’Grady, “and the Major would. Ford would, I suppose. Father McCormack might. What about your police?”
“The sergeant might think it was ‘Auld Lang Syne,’” said Gregg, “he has no ear whatever. But Moriarty would know it the minute he heard it.”
“Moriarty might be made to keep his mouth shut,” said Dr. O’Grady. “You could threaten him.”
“Your idea,” said Gregg, “is to spring it on the town band under some other name and have it played as if——”