I did not want to use my gun so soon. In the first place I had no wish to hurt the poor man, and secondly, I knew that to fire a shot now would be fatal to our plans, as it would at once attract the attention and suspicion of the escort, who were now in their cars a hundred paces from us. I did the only thing I could in the circumstances. I shouted at him—I threatened him and finally told him if he didn’t clear out of our way I would smash him up. But it was no use. Even then the policeman did not realise the position. He still kept on talking. And while we stood there, wasting moments that were precious, our comrades were wondering what was wrong. One of our men who had been allotted a position on the ditch that ran along the road apparently realised the situation. Without considering how he was threatening our whole scheme, not to speak of endangering the lives of three of us who were standing by the cart, he drew the pin from his grenade and hurled the missile straight at the policeman’s head. Now any one of the three of us could easily have settled with the obstructionist with perfect safety to ourselves, but we had no desire to kill the poor man, and in any case we feared that a single shot would prevent Lord French from coming up to us from the station. He could, for instance, if he suspected an ambush have sent his escort ahead to clear the road, or he could have gone right into Broadstone Station, in the city, and so upset everything. The policeman was struck on the head with the bomb and the weapon burst at my side without doing serious injury to any of us beyond the fact that the force of the explosion threw us violently to the ground. McLoughlin, the policeman, was not seriously injured. The rest of us quickly recovered from our shock, and we had no time now to bother about the policeman, for at that moment the motor cycle despatch rider (or scout, as he really was) who always rode forty or fifty yards ahead of the Viceroy’s party dashed by us from the station. A second later comes the first motor and we dash right in front of it opening fire on the occupants. Our fire is at once returned, and so close are we to the enemy that a new hat I had just bought is shot right off my head. It was a close shave, but my usual luck was with me that day. So fast was the car travelling that we had no time even to glance at the occupants, nor indeed were we greatly concerned with them, for our real object was to frighten that car into such speed that it would quickly seek safety in flight while we would hurl all our force against the second car, the one in which we knew Lord French always travelled.