CHAPTER IV
Lord Dunseveric returned to the dining-room. He found the Comtesseseated on a chair which had been placed on the table to give dignity toher position. On the floor, beneath this lofty throne, knelt NealWard, his hands tied behind him with a dinner napkin. Maurice, with acarving-knife in his hand, stood on guard over the prisoner. Una, hereyes shining with laughter, was making a speech.
"Please, don't interrupt," said the Comtesse, "we are holding acourtmartial on Mr. Neal. Una is acting as prosecutor; I am the judge.In a few minutes, when I have delivered my sentence, Maurice will flogthe prisoner, and afterwards hang him with one of the bell ropes."
"I want to speak to you, Neal," said Lord Dunseveric, gravely.
Neal pulled his hands from their bandage, and rose, blinking anduncomfortable, to his feet.
"How solemn you are!" said the Comtesse. "What has that very boorishCaptain Twinely been telling you? Has a rebellion broken out? Is theregoing to be a battle? Have they come to arrest Mr. Neal in real earnest?I believe they have. Never mind, Mr. Neal, we will organise a rescueparty. They are not real soldiers, you know--only---only--what do youcall them?--ah, yes, yeomen. We will fall upon these yeomen after darkand carry you off to safety."
"Maurice," said Lord Dunseveric, "have two horses saddled, and get onyour boots. I shall want you to ride along with me. Come, Neal."
The three men left the room.
"Una," said the Comtesse, "come quick and change your dress. We will goand see what is happening. Oh, this is most exciting, and the day hasbeen so dull and long. Come, Una, come; we will not let anyone seeus. We will take the most delightful short cuts. We will lie hidden inditches while they pass. We must see everything. Come, come, come."
"But--my father----"
"Oh, you dear dutiful child! Just for once don't mind about your father.I am sure something thrilling is going to happen. Haven't you a dutyof obedience towards your aunt? I cannot go without you, for I shouldcertainly lose my way."
The arrival of Captain Twinely, Lord Dun-severic's grave face, and hissummons to Neal had filled Una's mind with an undefined dread of somethreatening evil. She was nearly as anxious as her aunt to know whatwas to happen. The prospect of a scamper across country through therain daunted her very little. She had no doubt of her ability to keep intouch with the horsemen without being discovered. They would keep to thehigh road. To her every short cut was known, every hill for observation,and every possible hiding-place were as familiar to her as the lawn ofDunseveric House.
Lord Dunseveric led the way to his own dressing-room, beckoning Neal tofollow him.
"Sit down, Neal," he said, "and listen. I must talk while I boot andchange my coat. This Twinely, who takes rank as a captain of yeomen, andhas, as I suppose, a following of blackguards, brings me orders which Icannot disobey--at least which I mean to disobey in only one particular.I am bidden to search your father's meeting-house for cannon supposedto be concealed there. I am going to search, and search thoroughly. Youranswer will make no difference to my action; but I should like you totell me, are the cannon there?"
"I do not believe there are any cannon," said Neal; "I never heard ofthem, or had any reason to suspect their existence."
Lord Dunseveric watched him keenly as he replied. Then he said--
"I believe what you say, of course. If there are cannon there you knownothing of it. Now, another question. I am to arrest several personswhose names have been sent to me; your name stands second on the list.Are you a United Irishman? Have you sworn the oath?"
"No," said Neal, without hesitation. "I have not sworn. I have not beenenrolled as one of the society."
"I may take it that the Government has acted on false information inordering your arrest?"
"Yes. The man who gave that information certainly lied. I knew nothingof the plans of the United Irishmen yesterday, but it is right that Ishould tell you----"
"It is not right that you should tell me anything more. You haveanswered my two questions. I have your word for it that you are not aUnited Irishman, and I have your word that the information received bythe Government is false. I want to hear no more on that subject. I shalltake the responsibility of refusing to arrest you. I am also bidden toarrest your father. I ask you no questions about him. I simply informyou that I am not going to arrest him either. I do not believe in hisinnocence. I think it likely that he is implicated in the conspiracy,but I am not going to arrest him. He is too old to fight, and whenthe other three men on my list are in prison he will have ceased to bedangerous. Further, your father, in his writings, has attacked, and, inmy opinion, slandered me personally."
"You mean in the _Northern Star?_"
"Yes. In the series of articles called '_Letters of a Democrat,_' whichare attributed, I think rightly, to your father."
Lord Dunseveric paused. Neal remained silent. He had not read thearticles, but he believed his father had attacked the landlordaristocracy with great bitterness, and he thought it likely that LordDunseveric had cause for complaint.
"I do not choose," said Lord Dunseveric, "to take part in the arrest ofa man who may be regarded as my personal enemy. You may tell your fatherthis, and you may tell him further that if he is a wise man he willleave the country at once. The next magistrate charged with his arrestmay not have my scruples or my reasons for hesitating. Now, listen tome, Neal, before I leave you, and mark what I say. I admit, and I alwayshave admitted, the justice of the claims which your people make. Thereought to be equality, full and complete, for you and the Catholics.There ought to be an end to the tyranny under which you suffer, butyou are going the wrong way about getting your wrongs righted. Yourrebellion, if there is to be a rebellion, can't succeed. You will becrushed. And Neal, lad, that crushing will be an evil business. It willbe evil for you and your friends, but that's not all. It will be made anexcuse for taking away the hard won liberty of Ireland. Keep out ofit, Neal. Take my advice, and keep out of it, for your own sake and forIreland's."
He took the young man's hand, wrung it, and then turned and left theroom. Neal stood for a while dazed and bewildered. He had known beforethat his father was a supporter of the United Irishmen. He had guessed,though until that morning he had not actually known, how deeply he wasversed in the secrets of the society. He had never imagined that thedoings and sayings of an obscure Presbyterian minister were beingwatched and noted by Government spies. He found it hard to realise thatthe eyes of remote authorities, of secretaries of state, of generals ofarmies, were fixed on the wind-swept, desolate, northern parish, onthe gaunt, grey manse he called his home. Yet the evidence of thisincredible surveillance was plain and unmistakable. Men of his father'scongregation, men whom he supposed he knew personally, were to beseized and marched off, to be flogged perhaps as others had been, to beimprisoned certainly, to be hanged very likely, in the end. His fatherwas a marked man, with the choice before him of exile or imprisonment,perhaps death. He himself was suspected, had been informed against, liedabout, by someone. His mind flew back to the list of names he had copiedout that morning, to the one name which had arrested his attentionespecially. He remembered that James Finlay owed him a grudge, desiredrevenge; he felt sure that James Finlay was the informer. Others mighthave betrayed the secrets of the society. James Finlay alone, so far ashe could recollect, had any motive for incriminating him, an entirelyinnocent man.
He was roused from his thoughts by the sound of horses trampling on thegravel sweep outside. The yeomen, summoned from Ballintoy, had arrivedat Dunseveric House. They were laughing, talking, and singing as theyrode, a disorderly mob of horsemen rather than a troop of soldiers.After a few minutes they rode past the window again. Captain Twinely wasat their head. Ten or twelve yards in front of him, as if disdainful ofhis company, rode Lord Dunseveric and Maurice.
They were wrapped in long horsemen's cloaks, for the rain beat down onthem. The wind was rising, and blew in strong gusts. The sun had set andthe evening was beginning to darken. Neal ran down to the ha
ll, seizedhis coat and stick, and went out. The horsemen moved along the avenueat a steady trot. Neal saw them turn to the right and go along the roadwhich led to the manse and the meeting-house. He started to run acrossthe fields. He hoped to reach the manse and warn his father beforethe soldiers arrived at the meeting-house. He ran fast, choosing theshortest and easiest way, avoiding boggy patches of ground which wouldhave checked his progress. After a while, from a point of vantage, hewas able to catch a glimpse of the road. He noted that he was level withthe yeomen, and he knew that from the point where he saw them the roadtook a wide curve inland. He calculated that by running fast he would beable to cross it in front of the troop, and by keeping along the cliffswould be able to reach the manse before the soldiers did. He spedforward. Suddenly, as he descended the hill to the road, he became awareof two figures crouching behind the bank which divided the road fromthe field. He was dimly aware that they were women. He did not lookcarefully at them. His eyes were fixed on the horsemen against whom hewas racing. He gained the edge of the field and sprang upon the bank. Heheard his name called softly.
"Neal, Neal, Neal Ward."
Then somewhat louder by another voice.
"Mr. Neal, come and help us."
He recognised Una's voice and then that of the Comtesse. He had no timeto think what they wanted or how they came to be crouching in a dampditch in the rain while the evening darkened over them. He leaped fromthe bank, crossed the road, and raced off again towards his father'shouse.
He arrived at the door, breathless, but sure that he was in good time.He burst into the sitting-room and found his father and uncle, theirlamp already lighted, bending over a pile of papers which lay beforethem on the table.
"The soldiers, the yeomen, are on their way here," he gasped.
Micah Ward started to his feet.
"What do you say?"
"The yeomen are on their way to the meetinghouse. They are going tosearch for arms, for cannon, which they say are concealed there."
Micah Ward stood stock still. His body seemed to have become suddenlyrigid. His face grew quite white. Donald, leaning back in his chair,smiled slightly.
"So," he said, "they have begun. Are there cannon there, brother?"
"Yes, there are," said Micah, slowly. "Four six-pounders. They belongedto the Volunteers. We kept them. We thought they might be useful someday."
"Ah," said Donald, "it's a pity. We shall have the trouble ofre-capturing them. Come, let us go down to the meeting-house. I shouldlike to see these terrible yeomen."
"Some one has given them information," said Micah. He was silent for aminute. Then he muttered as if to himself--
"Some one has informed against us. Some one has brought this evil uponus. Who has done this thing? Who is our secret enemy?"
"Come," said Donald, "don't stand muttering there."
But Micah did not heed him. Raising both hands above his head, andlooking upward, he spoke slowly, clearly--
"May the curse of the Lord God of Israel light on the man who hasinformed against us. May he be smitten with madness and blindness andastonishment of heart. May he grope at the noonday as the blind gropethin the darkness. May his life hang in doubt before him. May he fearday and night, and have none assurance of his life. May he say inthe morning--'Would God it were even! And at even--'Would God it weremorning!' for the fear of his heart wherewith he shall fear and thesight of his eyes which he shall see."
"That," said Donald, "is a mighty fine curse. I'm darned if I ever hearda more comprehensive kind of curse. We had a God-forsaken half-breed inour company, under General Greene, who could curse quite a bit, and henever came near that curse. But I reckon that a good deal of it willhave to be wasted. There isn't a man living who could stand it for long.Still, if you name the man for us, I'll do the best I can with him.I may not be able to work the blindness and the groping just as you'dwish, but I'll undertake that his life hangs in doubt before him for abit."
Micah Ward, without seeming to hear his brother's speech, stalkedbare-headed from the room and led the way to the meeting-house.
The yeomen were marching up the hill from the main road. They sang asong with a ribald chorus, such as men sing in a tavern when they havedrunk deep. Lord Dunseveric and Maurice had already reached the door ofthe meeting-house, and sat silent on their horses.
"Mr. Ward," said Lord Dunseveric, "will you give me the keys and saveme from the necessity of breaking open the door? I see Neal with you. Isuppose he has told you what we have come to do?"
"I shall never render the keys to you," said Micah Ward. "Do the work ofscorn and oppression that you intend, but do not ask me to aid you."
The yeomen, still singing, straggled up while Lord Dunseveric and MicahWard spoke. Suddenly their song ceased, and they listened in a silenceof sheer amazement while Donald Ward addressed their captain.
"Say"--his voice was cold, clear, and contemptuous--"do you callyourself a captain? And is this your notion of discipline? I guess,young fellow, if we'd had you with General Greene in Carolina we'd havecombed you out and flogged the drunken ragamuffins you're supposed to becommanding. But I reckon you're just the meanest kind of Britisher thereis, that kind that swaggers and runs away."
"Seize that man," said Captain Twinely. "Tie him up. Flog him. Cut thelife out of him."
Lord Dunseveric touched his horse with the spur and rode forward."Captain Twinely, I told you I should have no flogging here. I mean tobe obeyed. And you, sir, you are a stranger here. Who are you?"
"This," said Micah Ward, laying his hand on his brother's arm, "is mybrother."
"Captain Twinely, dismount two of your men. Let them conduct Mr. Wardand his brother back to the manse and mount guard at the door. Maurice,tie your horse to the tree yonder, and go with them. See that noincivility is used. When they are safe in the manse you can returnhere."
Neal walked to the rear of the troop, and stood at the side of the roadnear the wall, while his father and uncle were marched away under chargeof two troopers and Maurice St. Clair.
"Sergeant," said Captain Twinely, "take four men and force this door."
Neal heard his name called in a low voice by some one near him.
"Neal, Neal, Neal Ward."
It was Una's voice. His father and uncle had passed down the road. Theyeomen were eagerly watching their comrades' attempts to force the door.
Neal stepped over the low stone wall. He felt a hand grasp his and heardUna speak again.
"Neal, stay with us. I'm frightened."
A low musical laugh followed, and then the voice of the Comtesse--
"You are a most ungallant cavalier, Mr. Neal. You left us alone in oneditch this evening already. You really must not leave us in another."
The effort to force the door of the meeting-house was unsuccessful.
"Put a musket to the key-hole," said Captain Twinely, "and blow off thelock."
There was an explosion. The woodwork was splintered and shattered. Asingle push opened the door.
"Now," said Captain Twinely, "come in and search."
The little meeting-house was scantily furnished. A high, octangularwooden pulpit with a precentor's pew in front of it stood at the farend. The place was bare of hanging or cupboard which could have beenused as a hiding-place. The men tramped about, upsetting the benches andcursing as they tripped upon them.
"It's as dark as hell," said Captain Twinely. "Send a man down to theminister's house and let him fetch up a bundle of bogwood to serve usfor torches. I must have light."
One of the men departed on the errand. The sergeant, mounted on thepulpit, rapped on the desk in front of him to secure silence, and saidin a high-pitched, drawling voice--
"Beloved! Brands snatched from the burning! Sanctified vessels! Letus, in this hour of trial and tribulation, when the ungodly triumph andprosper in their way, let us sing the Ould Hunderd to the comfort of oursouls."
At the sound of his voice the troopers who remained outside crowded intothe building
, leaving two or three of their number to take care of thehorses. Well satisfied with his congregation, the sergeant sang to thetune sanctified by two centuries of Puritan worship:--
"There was a Presbyterian cat Who loved her neighbour's cream to sup; She sanctified her theft with prayer Before she dared to lap it up."
A burst of applause greeted the performance of this ribald parody. Therewere calls for more such psalmody. "Give us another verse, Sergeant.""Tune up again, Dick." "Goon, goon." Lord Dunseveric, who had remainedoutside, dismounted and stalked through the door. He had caught thetune, though not the words of the sergeant's song. He guessed at someribald irreverence within. His face was white with anger.
"Silence," he cried.
The sergeant, half drunk, looked at him with an insolent grin.
"Your lordship will like the second verse better--
"There was a Presbyterian wife--"
Lord Dunseveric forced his way through the soldiers who stood betweenhim and the singer, and approached the pulpit with clenched fists andlips pressed close together.
"Who found her husband growing old; She sanctified-----"
sang the sergeant, leering at Lord Dunseveric, but before he got anyfurther a woman's shriek rang through the building. The sergeantstopped abruptly. The men crowded through the door, eager for some newexcitement. Lord Dunseveric and Captain Twinely followed as quickly asthey could. There was another shriek, a sound of blows and cursing.Then men's voices rose above the tumult. "Down with the damned croppy.""Throttle him." "Knife him." "Hold him now you've got him." "Take a beltfor his arms." "Ah, here's Tarn with the torches." "Strike a light, oneof you." "There's two of them, two wenches, by God, and young ones.""Fetch them into the meeting-house and make them dance." "Ay, by God,we'll tie their petticoats round their necks and then make them dance."
There was a rush of men to the door of the meeting-house. LordDunseveric and Captain Twinely were borne back before they could seewhat was going on. Some one struck a light and illuminated a branch ofbogwood which he held above his head as a torch.
"Drag in the prisoner," yelled a voice. "We'll give him a place in thefront and let him see his wenches dance."
Lord Dunseveric, unable to make his voice heard above the tumult, sawNeal Ward, his arms bound to his sides by a belt strapped round him,dragged into the meeting-house. His face was cut and bleeding slightly.His coat was rent from collar to skirt.
"Make way, make way, for the ladies."
A trooper entered with two women. He had an arm clasped round each.Lord Dunseveric recognised with amazement and horror his daughter andsister-in-law. Una made no resistance. She was terrified into a state ofhelplessness. The Comtesse struggled desperately, tearing with her handsat the trooper's face. Captain Twinely recognised the ladies almostimmediately, and strove to reach them. Before he could make his way LordDun-severic's voice rang out above the tumult.
"Maurice, are you there? Come in here at once."
There was something in his voice, a tone of authority, a note of grimdetermination, which cowed the rabble of men for an instant. Maurice St.Clair pushed his way through the door in silence.
"Maurice," said Lord Dunseveric, this time in quiet, even tones, "takethat scoundrel by the throat, and if he offers any resistance chokehim."
The man loosed his hold of the two women, and his hand flew to his swordhilt, but before he could draw it, Maurice bounded upon him and flunghim to the ground. Once, twice, thrice, as the trooper strove to raisehimself, his head was dashed down on the hard earthen floor of themeeting-house.
After the third time he lay still. Maurice rose and stood over him.
"Captain Twinely," said Lord Dunseveric, "loose the belt from yourprisoner's arms at once."
The order was obeyed, and Neal stood free. "Bid your men leave themeeting-house, all but the man who holds the torch and the one who liesthere on the floor."
The men, cowed and sullen, went out.
"Now," said Lord Dunseveric, "I will have this matter cleared up and Iwill have justice done." He turned to Neal.
"How came you here with my daughter and the Comtesse de Tourneville?"
Neal stood silent.
"It was my fault," said the Comtesse. "I brought Una. I wanted to seewhat was going on. Mr. Neal had nothing to do with it. He tried to saveus when, when that man"--she pointed to the soldier on thefloor--"found us."
"Is that so?" asked Lord Dunseveric of Neal.
"It is."
"Maurice," said Lord Dunseveric, "take your sister and your aunt home,and when you get them there see that they do not leave the house again.Stay. Take Neal with you. Those ruffians outside will scarcely ventureto molest you, but, in case any of them are drunk enough to try, youwill be the better of having Neal beside you. Captain Twinely, youwill kindly give orders to your men that my son and his party are to beallowed to pass."
Lord Dunseveric was left alone in the meeting-house save for the man whoheld the torch and the trooper who lay unconscious on the floor.
"Give me the light," he said, "and go you over to your comrade. Loosehis tunic and feel if his heart still beats."
The man did as he was bidden, and reported that the trooper whom Mauricehad stunned was still alive. Lord Dunseveric walked to the door of themeeting-house and said--
"Captain Twinely, you will now be so good as to take the man who lieshere on the floor and hang him at once. We are not well off for trees inthis country, but there is at least one at the back of the meeting-housetall enough for the purpose."
There was a threatening growl from the men outside. They drew together.Their hands were on their swords. Captain Twinely stood a little apartfrom them. His eyes were fixed on the ground. He made no motion, andshowed no sign of obeying the orders he was given. Lord Dunsevericlooked first at him and then at the group of angry troopers. He steppedout of the meeting-house and faced them. He took out his watch andlooked at it.
"I give you ten minutes," he said, "in which to obey my order. If thatman is not hanged in ten minutes I shall march you back to DunsevericHouse, where there are trees enough, and hang every one of you there."
They could have killed him easily as he stood there. They probably wouldhave killed him if he had shown the smallest sign of fear. They knewperfectly well that he could not have marched them to Dunseveric Houseor anywhere else if they had chosen to resist. Nevertheless, they obeyedhim. A rope was fetched from the saddle of one of the troopers. In thosedays the yeomen carried ropes fit for hanging men as they went throughthe country. The unconscious man was carried from the meeting-houseand hung up on the only tree large enough to bear his weight. LordDunseveric, with his watch in his hand, saw the thing done with a quietsmile. Then he spoke again to Captain Twinely.
"You had better proceed with your search for the cannon. It is gettinglate, and you have already wasted a great deal of time."
More torches were lit. The men, now thoroughly cowed, dragged down thepulpit and the precentor's pew. The earth under them was not beaten hardas was the earth of the rest of the floor. Captain Twinely took a torchand peered at it.
"Fetch a spade," he said.
They shovelled the earth into a heap against the wall and uncovered fourcannons. They were wrapped in oily rags, and well preserved, in spite oftheir damp hiding-place. Lord Dunseveric looked at them carefully.
"Ah," he said. "Four of the six-pounders which I bought for my companyof volunteer artillery in 1778. I often wondered what had become ofthem. Now, Captain Twinely, you have got the cannon, you had better goon to arrest your prisoners. I shall go with you, and remember I shallpermit no violence unless resistance is offered. I have given your menone lesson to-night already. I am quite prepared to give them another ifnecessary."
The rain had ceased when Maurice and Neal, with their charge, left themeeting-house. The direction of the wind had changed since sunset. Itblew in from the north and was sweeping the clouds away. The moon, thenin its first quarter, seemed t
o be racing across the sky among the tornfragments of black cloud. Now and then it reached an open space and sheda pale, white light over the landscape. Again, it was hidden and thenight was very dark. Already the wind had aroused the sea to its oldwarfare against the rocks and strands. Its hollow roaring was borne farinland. For a time the little party walked in silence. The Comtesse wasthe first to speak.
"If that is the way your loyal troops behave, Maurice, I think that Iprefer the _sans culottes_. Ugh! my clothes are half torn off my back. Ishall never be able to wear this dress again. It will smell, positivelysmell, of the grimy hands of that drunken wretch."
"What brought you out?" asked Maurice. "If you had stayed at homenothing would have happened to you."
"Now," said the Comtesse, "if you begin to lecture me, to preach sermonsto me, I shall sit down and cry. I could scream and kick at this momentwith the greatest ease and pleasure. Then what would you do, my nephew?"
"Maurice," said Una, "let us go home across the fields. Don't let us goby the road. I'm afraid of meeting those men again. They will be comingafter us."
"Nonsense, Una," said the Comtesse, "we have climbed walls enoughto-night; we have lain in ditches enough. For my part, if there is aroad I shall go along it. Come, Maurice."
She walked quickly on, and Maurice, puzzled and uncomfortable, followedher. Then Neal laid his hand on Una's arm.
"This way," he said. "I will take you home by the fields."
He sprang across the ditch and stretched out his hand to the girl.Without a word she took it and followed him. They walked in silence overthe rough ground. They crossed a wall, and then another, and each timeNeal thrilled at the touch of her hand as he turned to help her.
"You were very brave, Neal," she said.
"It's not much to be brave for you, Una. Oh, I wish I could have savedyou."
He had her hand in his again, and this time it seemed as if it lingeredin his clasp.
"Una," he said. "Una."
But her face was turned away from him, and she made no answer. The toneof his voice set her pulses beating with a strong excitement, so thatshe could not look at him or speak. He was silent again. They reachedthe high wall which bounded the demesne of Dunseveric House. Once more,as they climbed, her hand was in his.
This time he held it fast. It seemed to him that he was doing somethingthat would call down on him swift rebuke and angry reproach. He expectedto have the hand snatched from him. Then, with wonder and a glow ofrapturous delight, he felt it lie passive in his. He realised that hewas being swept beyond his self-control; that his desire for the girlbeside him was stronger than his reason. He yielded to an impulse ofsheer passion, clasped Una in his arms, and kissed her face. Again andagain he kissed her. He felt her arms tighten round him, knew that shewas clinging to him. Then suddenly he let her go and stood back fromher, terror-stricken.
"Oh, Una, what have I done? I am mad."
She stood before him, her face covered with her hands.
"Una, speak to me. Can you ever forgive me? My love made me mad."
She raised her face and looked at him. In the dim moonlight he saw inher eyes a look of wonderful tenderness. He realised without a word fromher that she loved him, too.
"Una--I ought never--I was wrong. But I love you more than my life.Una, you are too far above me. You are a great man's daughter. How did Idare?"
She came close to him and spoke.
"There is no above or below, Neal, when we love each other. How can I befar above the man who loves me?"
"But there is no hope for us, none at all anywhere. Even to-morrow I mayhave to go--Una, I may have to fight----"
"Whatever comes, Neal, I know that you will be brave and good. Be braveand good, dear Neal, and then God will give us our hearts' desire. I amnot afraid of the future. Why should you be afraid? If you do what isright and honourable what is there to fear? God is good."
They walked together to the house. Then Neal turned and went home. Thefuture, so far as he could see into it, was dark enough. His love seemedutterly hopeless, yet his heart was full of unspeakable joy. He knew,beyond all possibility of doubt, that Una loved him and would love himwhatever happened. Her strangely simple faith seemed to make all thingsplain before him. Una loved him and God was good. It was enough.