It was neither an easy nor a very encouraging task. The greater number of the English Anarchists mysteriously disappeared at this approach of danger. Mindful of the truth of the axiom that discretion is the better part of valour, A thought it well to suddenly recollect his duties towards his family; B discovered that he had a capacious stomach, which required feeding; C, that the Anarchist policy was in discord with his own true principles. At such a moment, therefore, and surrounded, or rather unsurrounded by such men, the task in front of me was not easy, and in the actual state of public opinion it was not very hopeful either. Public feeling was against the Anarchists. So long as violence and outrage had been reserved entirely for the benefit of foreign climes, the British public had regarded the Anarchists with tolerance and equanimity. But the mysterious death of Myers had alarmed and disquieted it, and heavy sentences were generally invoked against the prisoners. That the whole conspiracy was a got-up affair between Jacob Myers and the police was evident. Neither Banter nor O'Flynn was a dangerous man; a little loud and exaggerated talk was the utmost extent of their harmfulness. Neither of them was any better capable of making a bomb than of constructing a flying-machine, and they were less capable of throwing it than of flying. But political detectives would have a slow time of it in this country unless they occasionally made a vigorous effort on their own behalf, and an unscrupulous and impecunious man like Myers proved a valuable tool to help such gentlemen along, and fools of the Banter type suitable victims. And thus it was that these two men now found themselves in the dock with twelve serious-minded tradesmen sitting in solemn conclave to consider their crimes. The trial itself was a ridiculous farce. Jacob Myers, who would have been the one witness of any importance, was not subpoenaed; he had in fact discreetly quitted the country under his wife's escort. The police, with imperturbable gravity, brought ginger-beer bottles into court which had been found in O'Flynn's apartment, and which, they averred, could be converted into very formidable weapons of offence. Many gaseous speeches made by the prisoners, or attributed to them, were solemnly brought up against them, and a shudder ran through the court at the mention of such phrases as "wholesale assassination" and "war to the death." The evidence, however, sufficed to impress the jury with the extreme gravity of the case and to alarm the public, and the prisoners were found guilty.