the prison door grated behind the Fenian leader, it was Allen who
roused his countrymen to the task of effecting his liberation. Allen
had by this time grown into a comely young man of prepossessing
appearance; he was a little over the middle height, well shaped,
without presenting the appearance of unusual strength, and was always
seen neatly and respectably dressed. His face was pale, and wore
a thoughtful expression, his features, when in repose, wearing an
appearance of pensiveness approaching to melancholy. His eyes were
small, the eyelids slightly marked; a mass of dark hair clustered
gracefully over a broad pale forehead, while the absence of any beard
gave him a peculiarly boyish appearance. Gentle and docile in his
calmer moments, when roused to action he was all fire and energy. We
have seen how he bore himself during the attack on the prison van, for
he it was whom so many witnesses identified as the pale-faced young
fellow who led the attack, and whose prophetic assurance that he would
die for him, greeted Colonel Kelly on regaining his freedom. During
the magisterial investigation he bore himself firmly, proudly, and, as
the English papers would have it, defiantly. His glance never quailed
during the trying ordeal. The marks of the brutality of his cowardly
captors were still upon him, and the galling irons that bound his
hands cut into his wrists; but Allen never winced for a moment, and
he listened to the evidence of the sordid crew, who came to barter
away his young life, with resolute mien. The triumph was with him.
Out of the jaws of death he had rescued the leader whose freedom he
considered essential to the success of a patriotic undertaking, and he
was satisfied to pay the cost of the venture. He had set his foot upon
the ploughshare, and would not shrink from the ordeal which he had
challenged.

Amongst the crowd of manacled men committed for trial by the