“This unfortunate young man, without trial of any kind, was at once dragged outside the house, riddled with bullets, and his body thrown on a manure-heap in a most callous and brutal manner. “After brutally ill-treating Mr Hegarty and his family, the murderers left, to return again, saying that they would take the body away and throw it into the lake. Though the lake has been carefully dragged, no sign of this unhappy youth’s body has yet been found.” XIII. SEAL ISLAND. Sergeant O’Bryan was as fine a type of the R.I.C. as you would meet in half a dozen baronies: of magnificent physique, great courage, full of tact, and with the perfect manners of a true Irishman. At the end of 1918 O’Bryan found himself sergeant in charge of Cloghleagh Barracks, a comfortable thatched house close to the shores of Lough Moyra, and distant about four miles from Ballybor. While at Cloghleagh his principal work consisted of trying to put down the making of poteen, which was carried on extensively by the inhabitants of two small islands at the south end of the lake; otherwise the sergeant was on the best of terms with all the people of the district, who often appealed to him for advice and help. And as O’Bryan was a keen fisherman, he often managed to combine business with sport while out in the police boat. Soon after Blake became D.I. at Ballybor, orders were received from the County Inspector to evacuate Cloghleagh Barracks, and for O’Bryan and his men to proceed to Ballybor Barracks. As the country round Cloghleagh had as yet shown no hostility towards the police, and as it was hard to get a house in any town, O’Bryan asked and obtained leave for his young wife and family to remain on at Cloghleagh Barracks; and here, not long after the sergeant had gone, the youngest O’Bryan was born. Two days afterwards, on a wet winter’s evening, there came a knock at the barracks door, and when Mrs O’Bryan asked who was there, a man’s voice bade her open in the name of the I.R.A. Obeying, she found two masked men, who covered her with revolvers, and told her they would give her five minutes to clear out of the barracks before they set it on fire. Mrs O’Bryan had seven children, the eldest about ten years and the youngest two days old, most of whom were in bed by this time. As fast as she could she roused and dressed the children; but the five minutes soon passed, and the men entered and bundled the whole family, some of the children only half clothed, out into the wet and cold of a winter’s night.