a big gate. It was evidently the gate used for vehicles. As we
entered we were stopped by two guards who asked, "Where are you
going?" "To Carlisle," I answered. They waved us inside. We walked
down a long passageway. When we came to the train platforms, I asked
a porter who was standing near:
"Where is the train for Carlisle?"
"There'll be no train to-night, Miss," he answered.
"But why?"
"Because, Miss," in a whisper, "the Zeppelins were seen only eight
miles away, and {60} a moving train would be a good mark for them."
"But they will not come here, will they?" I asked.
"They are headed this way, Miss, they may be here in half an hour."
"Then we can't get to Carlisle?"
"To tell you the truth, Miss," he said, "I don't think any train will
run to-night, except the military train. Make up your mind you'll
not get to Carlisle to-night."
"When is there a train in the morning?" I asked him then.
"There's one at eight-fifteen."
"Well, I suppose we'll go by that one," I said.
And so we left the station.
We went back to the hotel. We were startled for a second when the
registration forms were handed to us; we hadn't decided on a name or
address. I took the forms and filled them with a Belfast address,
put the one for Barney in front of him, placing the pencil on the
name so that he would know what to sign. After signing we were shown
to our rooms. I went to bed immediately as I was completely tired
out. I was roused from a heavy sleep {61} by a knocking on the door,
and a voice saying something I couldn't distinguish. I thought it
was the "Boots" wakening me for breakfast, and turned over to finish
my sleep. Some time later I was again wakened by a loud knocking on
the door.
"Who is it?" I called out.
"Barney," was the answer.
"What is wrong?" I asked when I had opened the door.
"The manageress came to me," said Barney, "and said, 'Mr. Williams,
go to your sister, I am afraid she is either dead or has fainted with
the shock.'"
"What shock?" I asked, peering into the black darkness but failing to
see anything.
"Nothing, only the Zeppelins have been dropping bombs all over the
town."
"What!" I cried. "Zeppelins! You don't mean it. Have I slept
through all their bombing?"
"You have," he said dryly. "The manageress wants all guests down in
the parlor, so that in case this building is damaged, they'll all be
near the street. Put something on and come down."
I put some clothes on me and went outside {62} the room. I could not
see my own hand in front of me.
"Hold on to me," said Barney, "and I'll bring you downstairs. I know
where the stairs are."
"All right," I said, making a clutch at where the voice was coming
from.
"You'd better hold on to my back," said Barney. "That's the front of
my shirt you've got."
I slid my hand around till I felt the suspenders at the back and held
onto them. "Go ahead," I said, and we went. I tried to remember if
the corridor was long or short, and if there were any turns from the
stairs to my room, but I could not. Never have I walked along a
corridor as long as that one seemed. After a bit I said, "Barney,
are you sure you're going right? I don't remember it being as long
as this." We were going very slowly, gingerly placing one foot after
the other.
"We keep on," said Barney, "till we come to a turn and then between
two windows are the stairs." And so we went on, but we came to no
turning. We were feeling our way by placing our hands on the wall.
At last, we felt an open space. "Ah," said Barney, "this {63} must
be the stairs." And although we did not feel the windows we
cautiously stepped towards it. It was not the stairs and I felt
curiously familiar with it. I stumbled over something on the floor
and stooped to pick up--my shoe. We were back at my room! We did
not know whether to laugh or to be annoyed. We began to laugh and
Barney said, "Come on, I know the way back to my room and from there
we'll find the stairs."
"Couldn't you strike a match?" I asked.
"We were warned not to, when the 'Boots' knocked on the door," said
Barney. We went along the corridor till Barney found his room. From
there he knew the turns of the corridor, and at last we found the
stairs. Going down I asked, "How is it that we are meeting none of
the people?"
"Because," said Barney, "they've been down since the first knock and
you had to be wakened twice."
"I thought they were wakening me for breakfast," I said.
The stairs seemed to twist and turn, and at one of the turns I saw a
figure standing at a window, near a landing as I thought.
"Are we going the right way down to the {64} parlor?" I asked the
figure, but received no reply.
"He's probably scared stiff and thinks he's in a safe place," said
Barney. We reached the foot of the stairs and one of the men took us
and led us towards the parlor. All the guests of the hotel were
there huddled closely around the remains of the fire. I found a seat
and sat down. There was very little talk. I could hear the guns
going off very near. One of the women leaned toward me, and said,
"You were rather long getting down. Did you faint--were you
frightened?"
"No," I answered. "I slept through it all, until my brother came and
wakened me."
"You lucky girl!" she exclaimed in heart-felt tones.
We sat there for about an hour. It was a silent hour inside, but
from outside came the sound of running feet and hoarse excited
voices. A motor car tore through the streets; it must have had its
lamps lit, for some one yelled after it, "Put out those lights."
There was no sound of the Zeppelins again, but the people in the
parlor kept silent. I felt that one word spoken would set all their
nerves on edge. Suddenly there was a long drawn {65} "Oh!" followed
by a thud. I could feel every one in the room quivering. All turned
to the sound, but we could see nothing. Then we heard a man's voice
say, "My boy has fainted." They ministered to him there in the
darkness. A few minutes later a delicate looking lad, about twelve
years old, was brought up to the circle round the fire. One of the
women made room for him and he sat on the floor with his head resting
on her knee. The manageress must have left the room during the
excitement, for she returned then and said, "We will not be disturbed
again, so we can go to bed and finish our sleep." The tension was
lifted and we all began talking as we made our way to our rooms.
When I was going down the stairs next morning, I was amazed to see
that the figure I had spoken to while trying to find my way, was a
statue. The waiter told us, at breakfast, that some bombs had been
dropped in the street back of the hotel. They had killed eight
people, damaged one or two buildings, and made a hole large enough to
hold the dining-room table. He also said that he had heard of a lot
of other places, but that was the only one he had seen. We finished
our breakfast {66} in a hurry and left for the station. There we
bought a paper to read the full account of the raid. But all the
mention of it was:
"Zeppelins visited the East coast of Scotland last night. No damage
done."
On the journey to Carlisle the carriage was so warm and the seats so
soft that I became drowsy. I was about to yield when the other
occupants of the carriage came over to my side and stared out of the
windows. As the Zeppelins were still in my mind, I thought that this
might be one of the places they had visited, and looked out of the
window too. All I could see was a large field with brick buildings
in the center, somewhat like factories, only they had sloping roofs
made of glass. There were quite a crowd of men in the field.
"That's a German Internment Camp," said one of the men. "There are
over two thousand Germans there." The view of the camp started a
conversation on the war which lasted till we reached Carlisle.
[Illustration: JOHN McDERMOTT]
From Carlisle we were to go to Newcastle. On looking up the
timetable we found that we could get a train in three-quarters of an
hour. We then left the station, so that if the porters {67} were
questioned as to whether they had seen us or not they could say that
we had left the station. In this way the trail would be broken and
would give us all the more time till it was picked up again. The
journey from Carlisle to Newcastle was not so long as the last one.
On arriving there we again left the station and wandered about the
town. We had so much more time there, and walked in and out of so
many streets, crossed so many crossings, that my memory of Newcastle
is very much blurred and confused. Before returning to the station
we went into a restaurant and ate the first meal of our English trip.
Next we took tickets for Manchester, but did not go there. While we
were on the train we decided that we had better go to Crewe. When
the conductor came round for the tickets, we asked him if this train
would take us to Crewe. No, he said, but if it was to Crewe we
wanted to go he could change our tickets at the next stop, and there
we would get a train for Crewe. The next station was Stalybridge,
and there we took the train to Crewe, where we arrived at one-thirty
a.m.
From Crewe we went to Birmingham. It was there we were to receive
information as to {68} where Captain Mellowes had been deported. We
called at the address given to us and told who we were. Mr. Brown
said that he had just received word that we were coming, but that was
all. There was no news for us about the deportation. This was both
amazing and puzzling; it was Tuesday and Captain Mellowes was to have
been deported on the Sunday past. Why had we received no word--and
what were we to do? There was nothing for us to do but wait. A
hotel was recommended to us; we went there and registered as brother
and sister. Our pose of being on a holiday compelled us to stay out
all day as if sightseeing. Tuesday we visited all the principal
buildings, Wednesday we walked all over the city. Thursday was a
repetition of Wednesday. Friday, tired of each other's company, we
went out separately, and each succeeded in losing the way, but
managed to arrive back at the hotel for supper.
Not knowing the city we had not ventured out at night time, for like
all other big cities in England, Birmingham was darkened at
night-fall. But on Friday we went out. The streets seemed to be all
alike to us, we could not tell one from the other. The corners of
the {69} curbstone were painted white, so as to glimmer faintly and
warn pedestrians when they were approaching a crossing; policemen
stood in the center of the crossing flashing a lamp attached to their
belts, now a red light, now a green one. Trees, telegraph,
telephone, and trolley poles were painted white to the level of the
eyes. Not a light showed anywhere, not even at moving picture
palaces; and as is usual in darkness all voices were subdued. I am
sure it is at night time that the people of England realize most that
they are at war.
Saturday came and still there was no news for us. We were not
puzzled now. We were very anxious. Something must have gone wrong,
we thought, or we would have had some word before now.
We changed our hotel as we felt that the people were becoming too
interested in us. At the new hotel we registered as teachers on our
way to Stratford-on-Avon, where the Shakespeare celebrations were in
full swing. We left there in the morning, carried our suitcases to
the station, and left them in the Left Luggage Office. Then we went
to Mr. Brown again to find out if any word had come for us. There
was a note for us there telling us to go to the {70} Midland Hotel.
When we arrived there we met a young lady from Dublin. She had come
over with the word. She gave us the address of Captain Mellowes, and
told us to lose no time. We looked up the timetable and found that
there were no trains going there on Sunday afternoon. We were in
despair till our Birmingham friend told us he could hire a private
motor car for us. He did so and we left Birmingham at one-thirty p.m.
We traveled all afternoon through what is known as the Black Country.
We did not bother much with the scenery as we spent most of our time
in giving each other instruction as to how to behave in different
eventualities. We had hired the car to take us to Stoke-on-Trent.
It was to return empty. We thought it would be a much safer plan if
we could get the car to take us back to some big station on the line;
thus instead of waiting at the local station for a train,
apprehending every moment the discovery of Captain Mellowes' flight,
we should be well on our way before it could be found out. I did not
expect that there would be any trouble to get the chauffeur to bring
us back. I figured that any money made on the return trip would be
his, and a working {71} man is always ready to make more money. But
it must be done in such a way as not to arouse suspicion.
Secure in my figuring I spoke to the man. I said, "I want you to
take us to the railway station at Stoke. I expect a friend there to
pick us up." He nodded. It was dark when we drew up at the station.
I said to the man, "Wait a minute till I see if my friend is there
before we take out the things." Then I went into the station and
walked in and out of the waiting rooms, up and down the platform, and
asked a porter if there would be a train soon to Leek (our real
objective). I returned and said to Barney, "He is not there," and to
the man, "Have you any objections to going on to Leek? It is eight
miles distant. There won't be a train for an hour, and I can have
all my business in Leek done in that time." He said he would take us
there. I then asked him if he were going straight back to
Birmingham. He said he was. "If you can wait three-quarters of an
hour, you can take us back down the line to one of the big stations,
and be something in pocket. The trains are so irregular at small
stations on Sundays." He said he could wait three-quarters of an
hour.
{72}
When we arrived in Leek Barney and I jumped out of the car as if we
knew every inch of the ground, although neither of us had been in the
city before.
"Where are we going?" asked Barney.
"When in doubt go right," I said, and we turned to the right. This
town was darkened too. After a few minutes' walk I stopped an old
lady and asked her to direct us to the street I wanted. "Two streets
up on the right," she replied. We found the place; it was an
ordinary house and to our surprise there were no detectives watching
it. We knocked at the door. A man opened it about six inches and
peered at us.
"Well?" he questioned.
"We are friends of Captain Mellowes and heard he was staying here, so
we stopped to see him," I said. "Is he in?"
"Come in till I take a look at you," he answered. After looking at
us, "Come in here," he said, leading us to a room. "I'll go find him
for you."
After a few minutes Captain Mellowes came into the room. He seemed
surprised to see us, and was about to enter into a conversation {73}
with us when Barney said, "I've an important message to give you.
Where's your room?"
"Come upstairs," said Captain Mellowes, rising at once.
They went upstairs. I could hear them moving about the room, and
once in a while I heard something fall on the floor as if they were
throwing different parts of their clothing to each other. After a
few minutes' silence, I heard footsteps on the stairs and went out to
the hall to be ready. Both came down the stairs, Captain Mellowes
went forward and opened the door while I was saying "good-by" to
Barney, who was remaining behind in the Captain's place. Barney left
the house the following day; he took a train at the local station
which ran to Crewe, and from there he made connections that brought
him back to Ireland the day after the Captain's arrival.
Once outside the house, Captain Mellowes and myself wasted no time in
getting to the car. I asked the man had we kept him long and he said
we had been only half an hour. He started the car and away we went
again. After three hours' ride we stopped at Stafford Station.
"Can you not go as far as Crewe?" I asked.
{74}
"No, Miss," he replied. "Crewe is altogether out of my direction."
"Very well," I said. "We'll leave here." We then left the car, gave
the man his fee and entered the station. I took tickets for Crewe
and found that we had only twenty minutes to wait. We arrived at
Crewe about one a.m. and at one-thirty were in the train for Carlisle.
When we were near Carlisle the conductor came to collect the tickets;
I asked him if Carlisle was the last stop.
"No," he said. "From there we go on to Glasgow without stopping."
"Oh," I said, "I didn't know that this train went to Glasgow. That's
where we want to go. You had better make us out Excess Fare checks
and we'll go on." He made them out, I paid them and he went out
through the carriages. During this time Captain Mellowes was lying
in the corner as if asleep.
In my list of "safe addresses" was one in Glasgow. When we arrived
there next morning we made our way to that address, and there we
stayed all day. During the day we managed to procure a clerical suit
for Captain Mellowes, complete even to the breviary and {75}
umbrella. At eleven we took the train to Ardrossan; from there we
could get a boat to Belfast. We had decided before leaving the house
that we would travel as if we did not know each other. My accent was
no longer needed, as a strong Irish accent was quite the thing for
priests' clothing; but we were to keep each other in sight all the
time.
That Captain Mellowes really looked the part was proved in the train.
The porter lifted his cap to him, took his suitcase, and
deferentially placed him in the seat next to me. There Captain
Mellowes sat, his chin resting on his hands, which were supported by
the umbrella, as if lost in holy meditations. Almost at the last
moment, half-a-dozen North of Ireland cattle dealers tumbled into the
carriage, shouting, laughing, and swearing. The porter had locked
the door and the train had started before they realized what company
they were in. A sudden silence fell on them all, they straightened
themselves up, lifted their hats in salute to the priest, while
questioning each other with their eyes. Then one lifted his cap
again and turned to the rest as if to say, "I'm used to the company
of priests," and addressed Captain Mellowes.
{76}
"Are you crossing to-night, Father?" he asked.
"I am," said Captain Mellowes.
"I hope we'll have a good night, Father."
"I hope so."
"I hear they caught a submarine up the Bangor Lough this morning; but
I don't think there's any danger. Do you, Father?"
"I don't think so," said Captain Mellowes.
One dealer broke in then demanding to know that if there was no
danger, why could they not insure the cattle they wanted to send
across. Then each dealer tried to give his opinion at the same time.
They became so excited, each one trying to get an audience at the
same time, that they forgot all about the priest, and gave back word
for word to each other. With raised voices they cursed and swore,
stamped their feet, pounded the floor with their sticks, struck their
hands, till one jumped from his seat in a rage and his gaze fell on
the priest. The priest was still resting his chin on his hands,
taking no more notice of them than if they were miles away. His very
abstraction was a rebuke to them. The one who had jumped up said
humbly, "I'm afraid we've {77} disturbed you, Father." Captain
Mellowes came to himself with a start.
"No, no, not at all," he said hurriedly. "I wasn't thinking of you
at all." But the men looked as if they had offended beyond hope of
pardon and kept silent till we reached the boat.
Early next morning I went up on deck. We were steaming up the river,
I could see the city in the distance. Nearer to me were the famous
Belfast shipyards, all alive with the clangor of hammering. As we
approached I could see the swarms of men, poised on derricks and
cranes, hard at work on the skeletons of ships. Just before we
docked Captain Mellowes came on deck and walked over to the rail
where I was standing. There was some byplay of surprised recognition
between us for the benefit of those standing around. I asked him to
come to the house for breakfast, and told him that he could not get a
train to Dublin before ten o'clock. It was then seven o'clock and
the gangplank was being put in place. I told Captain Mellowes that I
was well known on the docks since the dock strike, and that it would
be wiser for him to follow me instead of coming with me; that he
would probably pass the Harbor Constables and policemen better {78}
alone, because, as they knew me, they would be likely to give my
companion a scrutinizing glance and he would be better without that.
There were two Harbor Constables and two policemen at the end of the
gangplank; they were on the watch for deserters from the Army and
Navy. When I walked down the gangplank I saw that they recognized me
and was glad that I had told Captain Mellowes to follow. I went in
to the shed and on towards the exit. Midway I paused, dropped my
suitcase as if to ease my arm, and glanced back to see if Captain
Mellowes was following. He was just at the end of the gangplank; the
four constables were saluting him and he was gravely saluting them.
I passed out into the street and walked slowly ahead to allow Captain
Mellowes to catch up on me. In a short while we were walking
together. It was too early to get a tram, and it would attract too
much attention if a car drove up to our door, so we walked the
distance. Falls Road, in Belfast, is called the Nationalist
district, and my home was near the head of that road. When we got to
that part of it where policemen were more plentiful and I was better
known, I told Captain Mellowes {79} to walk on ahead. I was glad I
had done so, for I derived a great deal of amusement from the number
of salutes Captain Mellowes had to return. Men and boys were on
their way to work and they all saluted him. Every policeman on the
road saluted Captain Mellowes; not one of them dreaming that the
capture of the young priest they were so courteous to, would probably
realize for him the dreams of Sergeantship every young policeman
indulges in.
It was with a sigh of relief that I ushered Captain Mellowes into our
house. The door was open and we entered without rapping. My mother
thought we were the painters--she was expecting them that
morning--and came out to remonstrate with us for not knocking. She
was astounded for a moment, to see us in the hall, then she threw her
arms around us both and literally dragged us both into the room where
breakfast was on the table. She then called up the stairs to my
sisters and told them we were home. On the instant there was a
clatter and scamper, and pell-mell down the stairs charged my young
sisters, some partially dressed and some in their nightgowns;
bursting into the room they flung themselves on {80} Captain
Mellowes, hugging and kissing him as if he were a long lost brother
returned. They hung about him asking him questions, interrupting
each other. They poured forth so many questions that he could not
answer them much less eat his breakfast. Mother noticed that his
breakfast was growing cold and turning to the youngsters said in a
voice that tried to be severe, "Children. I'm surprised at you--look
at your clothes." Then there was another rush to the door and a
scamper on the stairs as they raced up to dress. Never were they
dressed so quickly before, for in less time than it takes to tell
they were down again; crowding around the table each giving the other
in excitable voice the story of how Captain Mellowes managed to
return; but none of them bothering to ask Captain Mellowes or myself
how it really happened.
Now that Captain Mellowes was in Belfast the next thing to be done
was to get him to Dublin. He could not go by train for there were
detectives at all the stations. There have always been detectives at
railway stations in Ireland, whose sole business is to watch and to
report the arrival and departure of the {81} important members of the
Separatist Party (the revolutionary body). This method keeps the
local authorities informed as to the whereabouts of "such and such a
person." On this account I sought a friend who owned an automobile.
It so happened that he was going to Dublin that very evening and he
agreed to take Captain Mellowes with him.
When I arrived home again I saw a woman in the parlor, who looked up
at me through her veil, in the most mournful way; certainly the most
forlorn person I had seen in a long while. But as I went nearer I
recognized the clothes. My young sisters had decked Captain Mellowes
out in our clothes to see if they were skillful at disguising. They
were--but the clerical clothes were better.