the moment one does sit down one stands immediately up again resuming
that ridiculous ship's march from the window to the wall and back. I am
foot weary as I have never been before in my life, but I cannot say that
I am excited. No person in Dublin is excited, but there exists a state
of tension and expectancy which is mentally more exasperating than any
excitement could be. The absence of news is largely responsible for
this. We do not know what has happened, what is happening, or what is
going to happen, and the reversion to barbarism (for barbarism is
largely a lack of news) disturbs us.

Each night we have got to bed at last murmuring, "I wonder will it be
all over to-morrow," and this night the like question accompanied us.




CHAPTER VI.

SATURDAY.


This morning also there has been no bread, no milk, no meat, no
newspapers, but the sun is shining. It is astonishing that, thus early
in the Spring, the weather should be so beautiful.

It is stated freely that the Post Office has been taken, and just as
freely it is averred that it has not been taken. The approaches to
Merrion Square are held by the military, and I was not permitted to go
to my office. As I came to this point shots were fired at a motor car
which had not stopped on being challenged. Bystanders said it was Sir