I was, I think, with the exception of Moyne, the only member of the House of Lords in Belfast at the moment. The committee had evidently fixed on me as an ambassador.
“There is,” I said, “a tradition that the Diplomatic Service should be—but our circumstances are so very peculiar—I am not sure that we ought to feel bound—”
“Will you go?” said Conroy.
“Of course, I’ll go,” I said. “There’s nothing I should like better.”
“The Finola is lying off Bangor,” said Conroy. “I’ll run you and Power down there in my motor. He’ll land you wherever you like.”
“Good,” I said. “I suppose I’ll go in my shirt with a rope round my neck, like the burghers of Calais.”
“If that’s the regular costume,” said Conroy.
He spoke so severely that I thought I had better drop the subject of clothes.
“Now, as to the terms which you are prepared to offer the Government,” I said.
“We will not have Home Rule,” said the Dean and Malcolmson together.