“It’s who?” said Dr. O’Grady, turning round.
The crowd which was pressing round the statue began to edge away from it. Men were standing on tiptoe, straining their necks to see over their fellows’ heads. Everybody began to move towards the motorcar. A loud cheer burst from the people nearest to it.
“It’s him sure enough,” said Father McCormack.
“It’s the Lord-Lieutenant,” said Doyle excitedly. “Bedamn, but this is great! We’ll be all right now.”
“It can’t possibly be the Lord-Lieutenant,” said Dr. O’Grady. “He’d never change his mind twice in the same morning.”
A tall man, very well dressed in a long frock-coat and a shiny silk hat, stood up in the motor. The crowd cheered again with tumultuous enthusiasm.
“It must be the Lord-Lieutenant,” said Mrs. Gregg ecstatically. “Oh, will someone please hook up my blouse?”
“There’s nobody else it could be,” said Doyle. “Come on now, till we go to meet him. Come on, Father. Come you, Major. Doctor, will you go first? It’s you knows the proper way to speak to the likes of him.”
But Father McCormack had a strong sense of his own dignity, and was convinced that the Church had a right to precedence on all ceremonial occasions. He walked, hat in hand, towards the stranger in the motorcar. The people divided to let him pass. Major Kent and Doyle followed him. Dr. O’Grady stood still. Mrs. Gregg ran over to Mary Ellen and begged her to hook up the back of the dégagé blouse. Young Kerrigan mustered the town band. The members had strayed a little through the crowd, but at the summons of their leader they gathered in a circle. Kerrigan looked eagerly at Dr. O’Grady awaiting the signal to strike up “Rule Britannia.” Dr. O’Grady, unable to make himself heard through the cheering of the people, signalled a frantic negative. The stranger stepped out of his motor-car. Father McCormack, bowing low, advanced to meet him.
“It is my proud and pleasant duty,” he said, “to welcome your Excellency to Ballymoy, and to assure you——”