The Home Secretary was very anxious, and wrote to me long letters. The chief constable, Major Greig, was away ill, and this threw much responsibility upon the mayor. We were able to collect much information, which led to the arrest of many notable Fenians, and we stopped the importation of several consignments of infernal machines. An amusing incident occurred in connection with one of these. We were informed that a consignment of thirty-one barrels of cement was coming from New York by a Cunard steamer, each barrel containing an infernal machine. We placed a plain clothes officer in the Cunard office to arrest whoever might claim the cement, which, however, no one did, and we took charge of the casks as they were landed. Several casks were sent up to the police office and were there opened and the machines taken out. I was asked to go down to see the machines, and found them lying on a table in the detective office, several police officers being gathered round. I lifted the cover of one; a rolled spill of paper was inserted in the clock work; this I withdrew, and immediately the works started in motion, and with equal rapidity the police vanished from the room. I simply placed my hand on the works and stopped them, and invited the police to return. On unrolling the spill of paper I found it to be one of O'Donovan Rossa's billheads; he was at that time the leader of the Fenian brotherhood in America. The machines were neatly made; on the top were the clock works, which could be regulated to explode at a given time the six dynamite cartridges enclosed in the chamber below. Having taken all the machines out of the casks of cement, the difficulty arose what to do with them, and eventually we chartered a tug and threw them overboard in one of the sea channels. An amusing incident occurred showing how excited public feeling was at the time. I was sitting one morning at the table in the Mayor's parlour in the Town Hall, when I heard a crash of broken glass, and a large, black, ugly-looking object fell on the floor opposite to me. I rang the bell and the hall porter came in; I said, "What is that?" "A bomb!" he exclaimed, and immediately darted out of the room, but he had no sooner done so than he returned with a policeman, who exclaimed, "Don't be alarmed, sir, it's only an old pensioner's cork leg." A crowd had collected in the street outside, in the centre of which was the old pensioner, who was violently expostulating. On ordering the police to bring him inside, he said he was very sorry if he had done wrong, but he was so angry at the many holes in the street pavements, in which he caught his wooden leg, that he had adopted this rather alarming method of bringing his complaint under the notice of the Mayor and the authorities. The cork leg, both in form and colour, much resembled a bomb made out of a gas pipe, of which we had seen several at the Town Hall.