“That’s just it,” he said. “We want to appeal to you as business men. We want to suggest a reasonable compromise.”
“I’m afraid,” I said, “that you’ve come to the wrong place. I’m not the least averse to compromises myself, in fact I love them. But the Belfast business man—You don’t quite understand him, I’m afraid, Sir Samuel. Have you heard him singing his hymn?”
“No. What hymn? But leaving the question of hymns aside for the moment—”
“You can’t do that,” I said, “the hymn is the central fact in the situation.”
Clithering thought this over and evidently failed to understand it.
“What I am empowered to suggest,” he said, “is a compromise so very favourable to the Ulster claims that I can hardly imagine your rejecting it. The Government will allow the meeting to be held this day week if your committee will agree to the postponement.”
“If,” I said, “you will also withdraw your Home Rule Bill—”
“But we can’t,” said Clithering. “We can’t do that. We’ll insert any reasonable safeguards. We’ll concede anything that Ulster likes to ask, but we’re pledged, absolutely pledged, to the Bill.”
“Well,” I said, “as far as pledges are concerned, we’re pledged against it.”
“What we deprecate,” said Sir Samuel, “is violence of any kind. Constitutional agitation, even if carried on with great bitterness is one thing. Violence—but I’m sure, Lord Kilmore, that we can rely on you to use your influence at the meeting this afternoon to secure the acceptance of the terms we offer. I’m sure we can count on you. You can’t want bloodshed.”