As though this were not enough, forty thousand of the Irish people were driven to the seacoast. They were put on board ships and sent to Spain. Never more should they see the Emerald Isle they loved so well. Weeping and moaning could be heard all through Ireland. But a still more pitiful sight followed. It was a procession of children who had been taken from their homes. They, too, were driven on board ships which were waiting for them. These poor helpless boys and girls were to become slaves on the tobacco plantations of the West Indies. How their mothers' hearts must have ached! What sobs and groans must have filled many a lonely cottage of Ireland! One hundred and fifty years passed by. They were hard years, and full of trouble. Then the people began to whisper to each other, "A real helper has come at last." It was the young Irishman, Daniel O'Connell, who lived the life of a country boy in a quiet place in Kerry. It was scarcely twenty-five miles from Norah's home. An old schoolmaster taught Daniel his letters in a little village school. No one noticed the brightness of the boy's mind until long afterward, when he was sent to a college in France. After he had been there a year, the principal began to see he was not like most boys. "He will be a great man, unless I am much mistaken," he thought. He was not disappointed. Daniel studied hard and became a lawyer. His chief thought was always, "Ireland! Poor Ireland! How can I help my country?" He worked early and late. He studied far into the night. He would have little chance as a lawyer unless he became very wise, and was keen and quick in his wits. For he was a Catholic. That was much against him. The judges in the courts were Protestants and were ready to favour Protestant lawyers. But O'Connell's heart was full of courage. He did not lose hope for a single moment. When he began to practise law, he showed every one what a bright mind he had. He was quick to see little mistakes and point them out. He stayed in the court-room during the whole of a trial. He would not leave it for a minute, even if he had been there many hours. He had lunch brought in to him. He was afraid if he left the court that something might be said he ought to hear. "He is very bright." "He sees every blunder." "He is a sharp-witted fellow." People began to say things like these. Or, perhaps, some bold Irishman would tell his friend, "England can't have it all her own way much longer. Dan O'Connell will see to that." Now, while this clever young lawyer was busy in the courts in the daytime, he was doing just as important work in the night. Evening after evening he met with the friends of Ireland. He talked with them of the best way to help their country.