turn his wheel. A great shout of many voices came then, and the three
men ran to him.

"Drive to the barricade," came the order.

The driver turned his wheel a point further towards escape, and
instantly one of the men clapped a gun to the wheel and blew the tyre
open. Some words were exchanged, and then a shout:

"Drive it on the rim, drive it."

The tone was very menacing, and the motorist turned his car slowly to
the barricade and placed it in.

For an hour I tramped the City, seeing everywhere these knots of
watchful strangers speaking together in low tones, and it sank into my
mind that what I had heard was true, and that the City was in
insurrection. It had been promised for so long, and had been threatened
for so long. Now it was here. I had seen it in the Green, others had
seen it in other parts--the same men clad in dark green and equipped
with rifle, bayonet, and bandolier, the same silent activity. The police
had disappeared from the streets. At that hour I did not see one
policeman, nor did I see one for many days, and men said that several of
them had been shot earlier in the morning; that an officer had been shot
on Portobello Bridge, that many soldiers had been killed, and that a
good many civilians were dead also.

Around me as I walked the rumour of war and death was in the air.
Continually and from every direction rifles were crackling and rolling;
sometimes there was only one shot, again it would be a roll of firing