“Of course not,” I said. “That will be understood at once. Shall I demand Mr. Redmond’s head on a charger? I don’t suppose you want it, but it’s always well to ask for more than you mean to take. It gives the other side a chance of negotiating.”
“All we ask,” said McNeice, “is that the English clear out of this country, bag and baggage, soldiers, policemen, tax collectors, the whole infernal crew, and leave us free hand to clean up the mess they’ve been making for the last hundred years.”
“Either that,” said Malcolmson, “or fight us in earnest.”
“They’ll clear out, of course,” I said. “If it’s a choice between that and fighting. But what about governing the country afterwards?”
“We’ll do that,” said Conroy, “and if we can’t do it better than they did—”
“Oh, you will,” I said. “Anyhow, you can’t do it worse. But—there’s just one point more. What about the Lord Lieutenant?”
“I don’t know that he matters any,” said Conroy.
“He doesn’t,” I said, “not a bit. But he’s there at present, and some arrangement will have to be made about him.”
“If the Dublin people like airing their best clothes before an imitation king,” said Cahoon, “let them. It won’t matter to us.”
This showed me that Cahoon, at least, has a statesman’s mind. In unessential matters he is ready to yield to the sentiments of his inferiors.