The Tommy had either died or deserted. I found my way back into the Castle yard. As I hesitated there, a man detached himself from a group and came smiling upon me in the warmest fashion. “Good morning,” he cried. “So you came along to look us up?” I tried to place him, but the effort was too much for me. “You don’t remember me?” “I’m afraid not.” He laughed the heartiest of laughs. “Your memory is short. Why, I arrested your husband last night.” “Did you? Then perhaps you can tell me how he is?” “He’s splendid. We’re F Company. We take special care not to manhandle our prisoners. We take a pride in getting them to the Castle in good condition. Shall I see you to the gate?” “Thanks, I know the way.” My coldness did not chill him. He smiled pleasantly after me. I travelled far that day; but the end of it brought no reward to my efforts. Mrs. O’Grady had become dumb, and had resigned herself to the worst. Mrs. Slaney had retreated into the fastness of her bedroom, where I followed her to do battle about the gelignite. “You call this gelignite, I suppose,” she said, unearthing a tin and showing it to me. “Where did you get it?” “It’s wonderful for pot plants,” she declared. “I got it to make the plants grow.” She put it away like a squirrel storing a nut. The following day I went to a solicitor. He was pessimistic. “It’s not much of a job going to the Castle!” he exclaimed. “There are Sinn Feiners always watching. I shall be shot as a spy.” But for all that he went. Returning to lunch, I met Mrs. O’Grady in the hall. “No news, mum?” “None.” “And her upstairs going about this way and that just as if it wasn’t her fault. ‘God forgive you, mum,’ I sez, ‘for I never will.’ She thinks nothing of me, never a word, but it’s ‘Mrs. O’Grady, have you swept the stairs?’ ‘Mum,’ I sez, ‘the stairs can wait with them two away like this.’ ‘Nonsense, Mrs. O’Grady,’ she sez, ‘rubbish! Work will pass the time for you, so it will. Nothing like being up and doing, and keeping yourself occupied.’” “How I wish they’d take her!” “It’d be a charity, mum; but there’s not one of us but would wear ourselves thin to get her out.” “I wonder. Mrs. O’Grady, send up lunch as soon as you can, please. I’m off to see what I can do this afternoon.” “Shall I order something in case they get back for dinner?” I shook my head. “Time enough when we see them, Mrs. O’Grady.” “It’s a drop of gin I’ll have ready for my man, God help him, if the life’s still in him.” The next day at five o’clock I walked into the solicitor’s office. Himself was there. A chastened, saddened Himself. An older, dirtier Himself; but a free man. The solicitor was laughing. His success had exhilarated him. “Take him home and feed him!” he said. “Where’s O’Grady?” “He’s on the way.” “Go home and tell Mrs. O’Grady, and get a bath.”