Ossian's Ride Read Online Free PDF Page B

follow me around and see who I contacted. Bad for Mr. Colquhoun! In any case, after the outrageous events on the train, it would manifestly be prudent for them to keep an eye on me, at least for a day or two. Here my association with the Trinity undergraduates would be immensely valuable. No one, not even the most skillful actor, could masquerade successfully as a student in their company. No pretense could possibly survive for more than a minute or two. It would be clear to the authorities that at least in this respect I was exactly what I claimed to be.
    At this stage I might add a word or two about my plans, rudimentary as they undoubtedly were. Ostensibly I was to spend roughly a month in Ireland, of which the main portion would be passed in Dublin and its environs. The balance of my visit was to be in the Wicklow Mountains. And I was to report to the police at the end of each week. This then was the official position.
    I had decided that I would not break loose from this schedule until the end of a fortnight. I would spend the first week in
    Dublin. The time would not be wasted, for Dublin was a useful barometer. It is true that the real power of the Irish economy lay to the west, but some measure of it must show itself in the capital city. I would take long walks, checking up on the tremendous building development that seemed to be going on. The speed of this development would give some idea of the strength of the underlying driving force.
    After reporting dutifully to the police at the end of the first week, I would go down to the Wicklow Mountains. The whole point of this was to provide a good excuse for my outdoor clothes and mountaineering boots. I would have real need of these over in the west. This was of course the reason behind my Emmet story.
    Also it shouldn’t be too difficult to find out if I were being followed, once I got into the hills, that is to say. Assuming that I was not, I intended to return to Dublin, check again with the police and then at long last head toward Kerry. In this way I hoped to have a whole week in which to cover my trail before there should be any real foundation for official suspicion, which would of course be roused when I failed to show up at the end of the third week.
    The fly in the ointment was Seamus Colquhoun. A visit to Marrowbone Lane was not to be avoided, for I simply did not have anything like an adequate amount of money. But whichever way I tackled this hurdle, there was an awkward stride to be made. Perhaps the best plan would be to put off seeing Colquhoun until the end of the second week. There would then be less chance of my being followed. But would I necessarily find Seamus at home? It would be infuriating to be delayed and to lose part of my solitary week of grace. But if I hied myself to
chez
Colquhoun more or less straightway, I should be maximizing other risks. Suppose Seamus were being watched? The more I thought about the business, the less I liked it. With this reflection I fell at last asleep.
    In spite of all I had heard, I was quite unprepared for the tremendous changes that were sweeping through Dublin. The city was being systematically demolished and rebuilt. Whether for some reason of plan or of sentiment, the architectural tidal wave had not yet reached the area of College Green. This was of course why I had not seen it on the first day.
    The new layout was of a kind that must surely be unique, for by and large the place was being converted into a vast area of smooth lawns, flower beds and clumps of trees. Dotted here and there were medium-tall buildings, about twenty stories high, some apartments, other offices and shops. The materials were very largely glass and metal, the metal very beautifully colored—bronze, sea blue and delicate yellows shaded like spring flowers.
    The geometry of the matter was of course perfectly clear. By the use of tall but not too tall buildings, space was being employed far more efficiently than it is in broad, flat