He might have escaped, I thought; but there was still the danger that he had been shot further down the garden. Just as I reached the wall a soldier’s head appeared outside. He saw me and levelled his rifle, at the same time shouting “Halt! halt!” He fired and missed me. I fired too. When I dropped over the wall, clear of Carolan’s garden, I stumbled over his body. I don’t know whether he was dead or wounded. Another group of soldiers close at hand opened fire on me, and I blazed at them in return as I rushed for the nearest wall. I got over but did not recognise my surroundings. All I knew was that I was on the road. Suddenly I ran right into an armoured car. There was nothing for it but to get in the first shot. I hit one of their men before the occupants of the car had time to take aim, and I rushed by as their bullets knocked splinters out of the roadway and the walls around me, but never once struck me. By this time I had recognised my surroundings. I was out on the main road between Carolan’s house and Drumcondra Bridge. It would be madness to keep on along the road, for if the armoured car did not pursue me I was almost certain to run into some of their outposts near the bridge. On my right as I ran towards the city was the limestone wall surrounding St. Patrick’s Training College. Could I once scale that and get into the college grounds my chances of escape were good. But it was about 18 feet high. I had neither boots nor socks; one toe on my right foot was broken and giving me terrible pain; I had at least five bullet holes in my side, from my hip to my foot, besides several less serious wounds. But when a man is fighting for his life he gets strength that he has not at ordinary times. I scrambled to the top of that wall. How I did it I often wondered afterwards as I passed it by. When I got to the top I felt almost happy. My hopes grew stronger, though my body grew weaker from the terrible excitement and the loss of blood. I slid down carefully on the inside and faced for the west, leading towards Glasnevin or Finglas direction. But I was still within a few hundred yards of “Fernside,” and at any moment I might again run into a group of soldiers. I crawled along as noiselessly as I could. At this stage I think it was instinct that was guiding me. I was dazed and as near to unconsciousness as a man can be while he still has the power to walk. I lost all sense of time and distance.