Troubles - James Gordon Farrell [125]
“What d’you make of it, Boy?”
“Mumbo-jumbo.”
“Of course it’s mumbo-jumbo, that’s obvious...What I mean is: are the beggars going to cause trouble? God knows, things are bad enough already without having a holy war on our hands.”
“Och, it’s just a bit of nonsense. In a day or two they’ll have forgotten about it. But look who’s just come in, Ted. You’d have thought he’d be spending the day on his knees in front of the miracle.”
The Major turned. Mr Devlin had just come in and was standing uncomfortably at the door, smiling ingratiatingly in the direction of a group at the bar who, by accident or design, had turned their backs on him. Sarah was standing beside her father. For a moment her eyes met the Major’s but her face remained expressionless. Mr Devlin, in turn, caught the Major’s eye and began to make frantic signals of respectful greeting: would he be permitted to join the Major and his companions and perhaps have the honour of purchasing them a refreshment? The Major nodded curtly.
O’Neill said: “I do believe the awful fellow is coming over here.”
“I invited him,” the Major said coldly.
“Well, well, you don’t say...”
Sarah, sullen and with downcast eyes, hesitated for a moment before accompanying her father. She barely moved her lips in response to the Major’s greeting. Captain Bolton had come in silently behind the Devlins and followed them over to where Edward, O’Neill and the Major were standing. Boy O’Neill, meanwhile, was maliciously asking Mr Devlin what he thought of the miracle. Did he agree that it was mumbo-jumbo? Mr Devlin said cautiously that he really didn’t know what to think, it was such a strange business.
“But you’d better believe what they tell you to believe, Devlin, isn’t that right? Or else the priest will send you to hellfire, eh?” O’Neill, barking with aggressive laughter, was somewhat drunk, the Major realized. “So you don’t think it’s mumbo-jumbo then?”
Well, of course, in such matters one would want to be careful, because there was perhaps more to it than met the eye, at least, to his way of thinking...
“To your way of thinking but not to mine. If you ask me it’s a plain case of hysteria.”
“Well now,” began Devlin helplessly, “I’m not sure about that...”
“If there’s hysteria it’s because innocent people are having their houses burned down,” burst out the Major suddenly.
Bolton said: “There are no innocent people in Ireland these days, Major. If you put on a uniform like this you’ll find that everyone’s your enemy.”
There was silence for a moment. Then Bolton added: “If any of you are brave enough to be seen with a man in the uniform of the Crown perhaps you’d care to come out to the seminary with me. I’m afraid that the Shinners are using your miracle to do some rabble-rousing with. It’s a strange feeling to be in the middle of a crowd of innocent people, Major, any of whom may instantly become a hero by pulling a gun from his pocket and shooting you in the back without fear of being caught...How about you, Mr O’Neill? Would you like to come with me?”
“I’d be delighted any other time, but I’ve arranged to meet my wife.”
“Too bad.” Bolton smiled faintly.
There was silence for a moment. Sarah had at last lifted her eyes and was looking with amusement from one face to another. Bolton’s eyelids drooped sleepily.
“Of course I’m probably exaggerating the danger,” he added indifferently. “There may not be a single person with a gun in the whole crowd.” He paused again and his eyes flicked towards Edward. “How about it, Mr Spencer?”
“I really can’t see the point in taking foolhardy risks,” Edward said harshly. “That’s the first thing they teach you in the army.”
“Of course. You’re perfectly right. All the same, the Major here is an army man and I’m sure he’ll want to come with me.” Bolton was smiling contemptuously once more. Without turning towards her the Major was aware of Sarah’s eyes on his face.
“Certainly,” he said. “I’m ready