In a minute or two I had joined the bunch of men. I began to feel in a hurry all of a sudden, for it was getting towards lunch-time, and when a queue was formed, I took an opportunity to get into the front of it. It was after I was well in position that I remembered my pocket-book had entries in it, names of Sinn Feiners and titles of pamphlets, which might cause these gentlemen in Balmoral bonnets to prick up their ears. They might feel it on their conscience to haul me off to the Castle to explain myself, and it was easier to enter the Castle Yard than to leave the Castle Yard. I became humble. I withdrew, I evaporated, I murmured after you, sir, and I went crabwise to the last place in the line. It took me twenty minutes and a good deal of bother to pull the necessary leaves from my pocket-book without being noticed, tear them into little bits, and sprinkle them in the grass. When my turn came the Auxiliary said without touching me, “You’ll do.” “Search me,” I demanded. He smiled, patted my pockets, and said, “You’ll do.” They knew the sort of man to look for. But, of course, anybody who knew the ropes realised the searching of this line of men had been pathetic, for over on the seats sat nursemaids and little typists, and other high-heeled and short-skirted people. If any of the ambushers had had the misfortune to be shut in the gardens, their guns were not on them. They would be in some bush, or they would be in the dress of one of those demure maidens. It was nothing strange to be stopped by the military in the street and searched for arms, and the custom was growing to let women carry the guns until they were wanted and receive them again afterwards, for women were not allowed to be searched except in emergency by women searchers. The British Government was paternal in some things to the end, and earned the righteous scorn of Loyalist and Republican alike. About this time we paid visits to Mrs. Erskine Childers. Her house was one of the rocks of Republicanism. One met there the more extreme Cumann na mBan, and as the Cumann na mBan consisted of women they were nearly all extreme. It was whispered that all sorts of people on the run visited the place; but the ordinary visitor to the house never met these people. It was necessary for Mrs. Childers to lead an inactive life, and her energies had gone into her intellect. She sat all day in her library dipping into her books, and she had become very well educated politically.