Nothing could be more dismal than the Irish capital now. There was a species of curfew at sunset, after which few ventured in the street. Major Sirr and his myrmidons glided hither and thither on their devilish errand of cajoling men to their destruction. It was the business of these miscreants to provide victims for the lash by any means. Bands of drunken yeomanry awoke the midnight echoes with their shouting as they returned from breaking into a dwelling, or from flogging victims in the riding-school. For Claudius Beresford's riding-school had been turned by one of the practical jokes into a torture-chamber, where men, kidnapped on mere suspicion, were dragged and tied up, and lacerated without mercy night and day; whilst scurrying passers-by fled onward with their fingers in their ears. Some died under the lash--some swooned, to wake up idiots afterwards--some recovered, to wear till death livid welts upon their backs and inextinguishable hatred in their hearts. My Lady Camden, growing more and more apprehensive--for her lord's babble was incoherent--resolved to go down into the city and see for herself what passed there. She drove her four ponies along Ormond Quay, which was as deserted as if the town were plague-stricken; they swerved, and well-nigh upset her ladyship, for a single naked figure came tearing round a corner with wild yells and windmill arms, who, rushing past, flung himself over the parapet into the Liffey. Helter-skelter behind him came the hounds--in scarlet coats and pipe-clayed cross-belts--but the lady-lieutenant saw them not. The agonised victim of a joke wore a pitched cap upon his head, which was set ablaze and was grilling his living brains. This pleasantry was spoiled, for the wretch had presence of mind left to seek oblivion in the water. But another joke succeeded, which bade fair to end badly for the jokers. The Viceroy's lady lay back in a dead faint. Her ponies galloped along the street with her, their reins catching round their legs. The joke might have ended in the breaking of her excellency's precious neck. As soon as possible after this episode, she retired to England, and my Lord Clare made capital out of the circumstance. Were not the people behaving disreputably, when even the wife of the King's representative had thought it necessary to take refuge in flight? There had been, he averred, a new project to storm Kilmainham and set the criminals at liberty. To what a horrid nation was it his destiny to belong!