Robert's own position (and the rallying-point in case of retreat) was to be the watch-house which stood on the Old Bridge, and which commanded the narrow entry by which troops would come, if sent for, from Chapelizod. From the tower which crowned the watch-house he would send up his rocket; then, allowing time for the marching of the different divisions to their respective posts, he would leave a sufficient body there to hold the bridge, and hurry to the Castle gates, lest some one might steal the envied privilege of dragging down the detested flag. Elaborate were his arrangements in theory with regard to barricades. Beams had been left lying about with prearranged carelessness, ready to be picked up and slung at a moment's notice. As he donned his uniform--scarlet coat with gold epaulettes, white vest, pantaloons of tender grey--his first-lieutenant (one Quigley, a baker, who rejoiced exceedingly in a huge green plume) remarked with regret that perhaps their object would have been best achieved by taking a hint from Fawkes. 'Nothing could have been easier, and if successful more complete. Sure, it was the want of a reform in the senate that had brought Erin to this plight. The senate destroyed, she might begin again on the basis of '82, with hope refreshed and a clean slate.' Robert looked with displeasure at his truculent lieutenant. 'What! There were women in the galleries. Destroy the innocent with the guilty, by the hundred?' 'Haven't they kilt thousands--women and children galore--bad luck to 'em!' retorted the bellicose baker. 'After all, there was no fear of the escape of the guilty now. The hand of the avenger should seek out the recreants and put them to the edge of the sword--stem, root, and branch; their houses should be heaps of stones; their homes be made desolate. The world would applaud the vengeance of the downtrodden!' Robert was displeased by his lieutenant's views. He who by constitutional instinct so dreaded bloodshed, had battled with his fears and girded on the sword of Joshua, carried above physical antipathies by the sacred cause of the oppressed. Yet was it with a secret terror that he listened to such language as that of the gentleman with the green plume. It filled him with loathing. Thank Heaven that he, the chief, was there to keep the men in order, and temper justice with mercy! The goddess of justice, he believed, should appear white and shining, not dabbled with the gore of those who had done no wrong. So he tried to reason with himself. The work of Joshua, if the legend was to be believed, had been a bloody one, which ascended with a sweet savour of sacrifice in the nostrils of a vengeful Deity. If it was the will of stern Justice that the sinful brethren should be slaughtered, and with them the innocent, why, then responsibility was taken from his hands, and it would be presumption to attempt to dictate.