"What do you think, Mr. Connolly," cried Madame. "I've received an internment order or rather an order prohibiting me from going down to Tralee. What am I going to do about it? Shall I go or shall I obey the order."
"Did you bring the carbine and bandolier?" asked my father turning to me.
"Yes," I answered. "Harry has them."
"No, Madame," said my father. "You cannot go down to Tralee. If you make the attempt you will probably be arrested at some small station on the way, and sentenced to some months in jail. You are too valuable to be a prisoner at a time like this; I'll have need of you. If the authorities follow up their action of to-day we may be in the middle of things to-night or to-morrow; who knows? No, you must stay here. You are more important than the meeting."
"Should I send some one in my place, then?" asked Madame.
"That is for you to decide, though I think it would be a good thing."
"Whom will I send?" asked Madame.
"Send some one who cannot be victimized in case our hands are not forced; some one who is already victimized. Why not ask Mairé Perolz?"
"The very girl!" said Madame. "You can always pick out the right person."