"We'll be coming back for you, damn you."

From the railings there came no reply, and in an instant the place was
again desert and silent, and the little green vistas were slumbering
among the trees.

No one seemed able to estimate the number of men inside the Green, and
through the day no considerable body of men had been seen, only those
who held the gates, and the small parties of threes and fours who
arrested motors and carts for their barricades. Among these were some
who were only infants--one boy seemed about twelve years of age. He was
strutting the centre of the road with a large revolver in his small
fist. A motor car came by him containing three men, and in the shortest
of time he had the car lodged in his barricade, and dismissed its
stupified occupants with a wave of his armed hand.

The knots were increasing about the streets, for now the Bank Holiday
people began to wander back from places that were not distant, and to
them it had all to be explained anew. Free movement was possible
everywhere in the City, but the constant crackle of rifles restricted
somewhat that freedom. Up to one o'clock at night belated travellers
were straggling into the City, and curious people were wandering from
group to group still trying to gather information.

I remained awake until four o'clock in the morning. Every five minutes
a rifle cracked somewhere, but about a quarter to twelve sharp volleying
came from the direction of Portobello Bridge, and died away after some
time. The windows of my flat listen out towards the Green, and obliquely
towards Sackville Street. In another quarter of an hour there were
volleys from Stephen's Green direction, and this continued with