And then the wind would sigh and fall again, and the water roaring down upon some outwork of the conflagration would batter it to death; and a new wind springing up would blow like a giant’s bellows upon the quenched sparks, blow a new fury of destruction into them, and they would leap up again. “Och, it’s a grander sight than the Post Office in Easter week.” “It is, it is.” Moving to and fro upon Butt Bridge, and moving up and down the quays, were Crossley tenders with their load of police. Now and then a gust of rage would seize those people, as indeed rage was consuming all Ireland now, the tender would awaken to a new pace and come running in the direction of the crowd, and a panic like a live thing, would seize us; we would start running and bunch up into the alleyways. The car would roll down to where we had been, and the men would lean over its armoured sides, shaking their guns and grinding their teeth, as if their dumb lips were shouting for the phantom enemy to come out of the crowd and give them battle. The car would back and turn, and roll up the quay towards the bridge again, and we would come out from our holes like rats. “Indade, and it’s shooting ye they would be if ye was to look at them,” said a stout lady in a shawl, gazing up the quay after the departed enemy. “It’s grand they look in them hats,” said her daughter of twenty, who had enjoyed the scuttle into covert, and was wiping her nose on her finger. “And it’s meself,” agreed the mother, “will be sad to see the last iv the military, thieves and murderers as they are. It’s a grand sight is the military.” “Sure, and it’s our boys are going to show them the way out iv the country. And it’s a grand sight our boys will look in green.” “They will. Them Auxiliaries be good fighters. I hear tell this morning they got out iv their motors and stood up there, and banged away with their legs apart and their rifles to their shoulders. I hear tell there was a girl standing by, and one iv them Auxiliaries, sez he to she, ‘Lie ye down, mum, or it’s shot ye’ll be,’ and he puts her on the ground, and his foot in the stomach iv her for to protect her, and he goes on shooting, and its not a minute after he falls dead atop iv her with a bullet to the heart.” At the end of one of these panics, when the police had retreated up the quay and we had emerged into the open, I found myself in a new place. I started to gape across the river again just as somebody beside me said, “How’s the world treating you?” I found 47 at my elbow. “Hallo,” I said. “Hallo,” he answered. “Where have you sprung from?” “I came along to see what was doing.” “They’ve made a good job of it?” I suggested, nodding over the river. “They have,” he admitted. “About their best stunt up to date.” “Did you hear how they did it?” I asked.