There I was told that there had been a great deal of rifle firing all
the morning, and we concluded that the Military recruits or Volunteer
detachments were practising that arm. My return to business was by the
way I had already come. At the corner of Merrion Row I found the same
silent groups, who were still looking in the direction of the Green, and
addressing each other occasionally with the detached confidence of
strangers. Suddenly, and on the spur of the moment, I addressed one of
these silent gazers.

"Has there been an accident?" said I.

I indicated the people standing about.

"What's all this for?"

He was a sleepy, rough-looking man about 40 years of age, with a blunt
red moustache, and the distant eyes which one sees in sailors. He looked
at me, stared at me as at a person from a different country. He grew
wakeful and vivid.

"Don't you know," said he.

And then he saw that I did not know.

"The Sinn Feiners have seized the City this morning."

"Oh!" said I.

He continued with the savage earnestness of one who has amazement in his
mouth: