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Updated: June 2, 2025
Jock, come here!" The innocent boy approached; with his girlish complexion, his flowery blue eyes, his perfect mouth, he stood before his mother like a large cherub. And suddenly he blew his ocarina in a dreadful manner. Mrs. Larne launched a box at his ears, and receiving the wind of it he fell prone. "That's the way he behaves. Be off with you, you awful boy. I want to talk to Guardy."
A third of the ships came to the safer harbor of Larne, where bands of white seam the cliff's redness, where the great headland is thrust forth northwards, sheltering the bay from the eastern waves. A third of the fleet came to the strand beside Dundelga, hard by the great hill of earth where was reared the stronghold of Cuculain.
This last decision was not approved by Crawford, for he and Spender had long before this time agreed that Larne harbour was the proper place to land the arms, both because the large number of country roads leading to it would facilitate rapid distribution, and because it would be more difficult for the authorities to interfere with the disembarkation there than at any of the other ports.
Larne's low laugh, so warm yet so preoccupied, and the tips of the girl's fingers waving back above her head. He heaved a sigh, and knew no more till he was seated at his club before a bottle of champagne. Home! Not he! He wished to drink and dream. "The old man" would get his news all right to-morrow! The words: "A Mrs. Larne to see you, sir," had been of a nature to astonish weaker nerves.
Very few either of the Volunteers or the motor owners knew that anything more than manoeuvres by night for practice purposes was to take place. All motors from certain specified districts were ordered to be at Larne by 8 o'clock in the evening; from other districts the vehicles were to assemble at Bangor and Donaghadee respectively, at a later hour.
Captain Tait was a favourite with Sir Thomas Maitland, High Commissioner of the Ionian Islands King Tom, as he was called who frequently took passage in the Larne. King Tom knew every inch of the Mediterranean, and was a terror to the officers of the watch. He would come on deck at night; and with his broad Scots accent, "Well, sir," he would say, "what depth of water have ye?
Phyllis whispered in his ear: "Guardy, do look; he will stare at me like that. Isn't it awful like a boiled rabbit?" Bob Pillin, attentive to Mrs. Larne, was gazing with all his might over her shoulder at the girl. The young man was moonstruck, that was clear! There was something almost touching in the stare of those puppy dog's eyes.
All the way from Larne by train to Belfast and through Belfast by motor-car to Newtownards and Mount Stewart, his progress was a triumph." The remarks of the same experienced observer on the eve of the Balmoral meeting are worth recording, especially as his anticipations were amply fulfilled.
Larne is very kind to me." "No doubt. But don't try to pick the flowers." Thoroughly upset, Bob Pillin preserved a dogged silence. This fortnight, since he had first met Phyllis in old Heythorp's hall, had been the most singular of his existence up to now.
The oldest maps, known in Scandinavia, exhibit a mere outline of the Irish coast, with a few points in the interior; fiords, with Norse names, are shown, answering to Loughs Foyle, Swilly, Larne, Strangford, and Carlingford; the Provincial lines of Ulster and of Connaught are rudely traced; and the situation of Enniskillen, Tara, Dublin, Glendaloch, Waterford, Limerick, and Swerwick, accurately laid down.
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