AS THE crowds applauded him in Dublin last December, Bill Clinton told George Mitchell, just after the decommissioning problem had landed in the former senator's lap. "I got the gold mine and you got the shaft."
The words of that country and western song must have passed through George Mitchell's mind as the wrangling continued in Stormont's Castle Buildings yesterday over his precise role, if any, in the all party talks.
"No one puts a gun to my head," said the leader of the UK Unionist Party, Robert McCartney, as he emerged from Castle Buildings around midday, accompanied by Conor Cruise O'Brien.
"The Democratic Unionists and ourselves met with the Secretary of State and we conveyed courteously but firmly our opposition to George Mitchell being seated by demand of the SDLP and the Dublin Government," Dr O'Brien told reporters.
Stormont is described in old documents as in "a very exposed situation" and downpours of driving rain reinforced the point on a regular basis during the day.
Ian Paisley came out with Peter Robinson and Willie McCrea during a break in the rain. "We're just going for a dander," he said.
As he walked, a wall of TV camera operators, walking backwards, covered his every move.
Shortly afterwards Dr Paisley emerged in more sombre mood. In pulpit tones he charged that an Irish Minister had warned that if Mitchell wasn't appointed chairman, there would be "bodies on the streets". The media were shocked out of rain sodden torpor, but the claim was dismissed by Irish officials. Seamus Mallon of the SDLP was also deeply sceptical.
What appeared to be a more moderate tone was adopted by the Ulster Unionist Party leader, David Trimble. As Trimble talked to reporters during a teatime break, John Hume listened on the fringe of the crowd.
The UUP had put forward a compromise proposal but Trimble wouldn't give any details. Others said it involved an acceptance of Mitchell, but in a far more circumscribed role than was envisaged by the two governments and the SDLP.
The media waited patiently for the Tanaiste to come out and address them. But the expected press conferences kept being postponed and by seven o'clock he still had not appeared.
It was clear by mid afternoon that a battle royal was being waged inside. McCartney emerged once more at 5 p.m. "It is deadlocked."
Supporters of the loyalist fringe party, the UDP, warned that the wrangle was not really about Mitchell at all it was about the main unionist parties seeking to take over the talks by emasculating the role of chairman through reducing his powers to that of convening meetings only.
Under this scenario, very strict conditions on decommissioning would be applied to the loyalist paramilitaries who were seen by the Provos as "crash test dummies" in this regard. If the loyalists felt they were being hung out to dry on decommissioning, it would send a message to the republican movement not even to bother trying to get into the talks.
Meanwhile, word was coming in from sources close to republican thinking that a renewed IRA ceasefire, which had been a strong possibility within two weeks, was receding because of the wrangle over Mitchell.
Down at the gates of Stormont, republican supporters were making their point through street theatre. A Gerry Adams look alike who bore a closer resemblance to broadcaster Joe Duffy was trying to shake hands with actors representing Trimble, Paisley and Major. Children in the background intoned. "Give peace a chance."
Word came through from Dublin that the Taoiseach and Sinn Fein were on a collision course over the party's failure to condemn the Adare killing.
There was a general air of crisis if Mitchell was appointed, would the unionists walk out? If Mitchell went home with his tail between his legs, what price the ceasefire? Give peace a chance seemed a forlorn cry on the slopes of Stormont last night.