As we went back to the Green, Madam told me of the attempt made that morning by herself, Sean Connolly, and ten others to enter Dublin Castle and plant the flag of the Irish republic on the roof of that stronghold of British power in Ireland. There always is a considerable military force housed in the castle, but so completely were they taken by surprise that for a few moments it seemed as if the small group would succeed in entering. It was only when their leader, Sean Connolly, was shot dead that the attempt was abandoned. It seemed to me particularly fitting that Madam had been a member of this party, for she belonged by "right of birth" to those who always were invited to social affairs at the castle. Yet she had long refused to accept these invitations, and had taken the side of those who hoped for the ultimate withdrawal of those Dublin Castle hosts. Immediately after this gallant attempt, which might have succeeded had it taken place on Sunday with the number of men originally intended, Madam returned to St. Stephen's Green and alone and single-handed took possession of the College of Surgeons. This is a big, square, granite building on the west side of the Green. It was, as we later discovered, impregnable. For all impression they made, the machine-gun bullets with which the British soldiers peppered it for five days might have been dried peas. The countess, fortunately, had met with no resistance. She walked up the steps, rang the bell, and, when no one answered, fired into the lock and entered. The flag we flew from the roof of the building was a small one I had brought on my bicycle from headquarters. VII We were all happy that night as we camped in St. Stephen's Green. Despite the handicap we were under through lack of men, almost everything was going our way. It was a cold, damp night. The first-aid and despatch-girls of our command went into a summer-house for shelter. It had no walls, but there was a floor to lie upon, and a roof. I slept at once and slept heavily.