“They gave him quite a fair trial,” said Bland, “and had just condemned him when—”
“That fellow Crossan in particular,” said Godfrey.
“The Colonel ran round to tell you,” said Bland. “I rather fancy they wanted to get off carrying out the sentence if they could.”
“A lot of fellows,” said Godfrey sulkily, “who ought to be wheeling barrows! But it’s very largely your fault, Excellency. You always encouraged that class. If you’d kept them in their proper places—”
“What on earth brought you to Belfast?” I said. “Why didn’t you stay at home? Nobody wants you here. Why did you come?”
Godfrey looked uneasily at Bland. He evidently did not want to make his reason for coming to Belfast public property. Godfrey is usually quite shameless. I could only imagine that he had done something of a peculiarly repulsive kind.
“Well,” I said, “why did you come?”
He looked at Bland again, and then nodded sideways at me.
“I suppose,” I said, “that you thought there might be some assessment made by the Government of the amount of damage done in the town, and that if you started valuing things at once on your own hook, you might possibly get a job out of it.”
“But is there?” said Godfrey eagerly; “for if there is—”