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Updated: June 28, 2025
"Maybe there'll be more blood in his veins than O'Brien's," Sullivan suggested significantly. Behane caught Gorman by the hair and twisted his head back, while Sullivan attempted to take possession of the sheath-knife. But Gorman clung to it desperately. "Lave go, an' I'll do ut!" he screamed frantically. "Don't be cuttin' me throat! I'll do the deed! I'll do the deed!"
He was the one friend, I believe, whom Redmond would have taken with him to Aughavanagh after Willie Redmond's death. Now, Aughavanagh, which had been a place of rest, was a place of intense loneliness. Yet to Aughavanagh Redmond had withdrawn himself, like a wounded creature; and from Aughavanagh he came to Dublin for Pat O'Brien's funeral in Glasnevin.
It was only magnanimous men men of fine fibre and a noble moral courage who could stretch their hands across the yawning chasm of the bad and bitter years, with all their evil memories of hates and wounds and scars and defy the yelpings of the malicious minds who were only too glad to lead on the pack, to shout afterwards at Mr O'Brien: "Barrymore!" when of a truth, of all the achievements of Mr O'Brien's crowded life of effort and accomplishment there is not one that should bring more balm to his soul or consolation to his war-worn heart than that he should have induced the enemy of other days to pay this highest of all tributes to his honesty and worth.
O'Brien's one visit and the subsequent reports in the press he was thereafter refused admission to the workhouse. The judge had sentenced these women to the jail, but the District Commissioners had ordered them committed to the workhouse.
The love of Romeo for Juliet was a safe and simple affair compared with the merest flirtation between the daughter of Richard O'Brien and the son of John Halloran, whom O'Brien's testimony had sent to prison for life.
This was very fortunate for us, as we afterwards discovered that a mark had been put against O'Brien's and my name, not to allow parole or permission to leave the fortress, even under surveillance. If I doubted the practicability of escape when I examined the exterior, when we were ushered into the interior of the fortress, I felt that it was impossible, and I stated my opinion to O'Brien.
They marched me down through the gray mists, to the water's edge. Two soldiers held my arms; O'Brien's blood was drying on my face and on my clothes. I was, even to myself, a miserable object. Among the négresses on the slimy boat-steps a thick, short man was asking questions. He opened amazed eyes at the sight of me. It was Williams the Lion was not yet gone then.
They occupied an eminence in front of the road by which the police approached. Another road crossed this at right angles, and Captain Trant, instead of leading his men directly against Mr. O'Brien's position, denied along the cross-road to the right hand that which led to the Widow M'Cormick's. The motive of this manoeuvre was obvious.
"Aha!... Aha!" he said, "bear this kiss into his ribs at the back." His eyes glistened with this mania. "I swear it; when I next see this dog; this friend of the priests." He threw the knife on the table. "Look," he said, "was ever steel truer or more thirsty?" "Don't you make no mistake," Nichols continued to me. "Don't you think to presume. O'Brien's my friend.
Every officer and every non-com. down the long length of the trench was giving the same advice, and the Turks were allowed to approach until their squat forms loomed clear in the starlight. 'Now let 'em have it. Pump it into 'em, lads! came O'Brien's voice again. With one crash every rifle spoke at once, and at the same time the maxims turned loose their hose-pipe streams of lead.
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