where boats come up, and land and take off
passengers; persons with a lively interest in
oysters affect this spot a good deal. But I found
the oyster interest shaken to its centre on this
occasion by the signs of the times, and
mysteriously discussing a remarkable embarkation
supposed to have taken place the night before.
At this very point, and on this very morning, the
arch-Fenian was said to have embarked in an
open fishing-boat, and to have been pulled by
strong fishing arms out to a Liverpool yacht
lying far off in the bay. This was importing the
romance of the sea into the business; it brought
on the old dramatic flavour of old days, when
gentlemen, with cloaks over their French
uniforms, " hung about" the coast, and were " taken
off" by suspicious-looking luggers. The seafaring
men—of a curious boat-building, shell-fish sort
of half dock, half village, close by, and called
Ringsend — think it must have been a tough
job on such a night for an open boat, but
incline to the belief that it could be done. That
it was done is probable enough, if one may
trust one-half of the flying rumours, or the
passenger who was walking the deck of the
mail-packet that morning at about three o'clock,
and saw a yacht, with every "stitch" of canvas
spread, flying before the gale; or that
villa-proprietor on the coast, who, looking from
his window at about the same hour, saw the
yacht putting out to sea.

Thus disappointed in a sea-walk, I come
round inland, and make for the Circular-road.
Here, after diligent walking, I come
to what is called, after a good pattern, The
Bridewell: one of the few significant and racy
old words left. Here, again, is the crowd looking
and studying this blank pile with
extraordinary interest— not at the inscription cut in
stone over the door, with which they are
familiar enough—" CEASE TO DO EVIL, LEARN
TO DO WELL!"—but discussing the flight of the
arch-conspirator with extraordinary satisfaction.
This is a Bridewell of the old theatrical pattern,
with iron doors, and tortuous passages, and an
immense quantity of keys and locking up, and
not constructed on the modern model, so fatally
simple, and so hopelessly impracticable in matters
of escape.

If I want information about this place of
duresse, I can surely have it from a pro-Fenian
journal, sold in large quantities, and written up
to a fine dramatic pitch of exaltation suited to
the occasion. Behold the tempting bill of fare,
"displayed" after the American fashion in its
columns.

ESCAPE OF STEPHENS!

RELEASED BY CONFEDERATES ON THE PRISON
STAFF!

FALSE KEYS!

ALL DOORS OPEN, OPENED FOR HIM, AND HE
ESCAPES WITH EASE!

CONSUMMATE ABILITY OF THE PLOT!

TREMENDOUS EXCITEMENT IN THE CITY!

ALARM AND DISMAY OF THE GOVERNMENT!

Goodly promise! The details are broken into
chapters, headed " THE FIRST TIDINGS IN THE
CITY." " THE ESCAPE!" " HOW THE ESCAPE
WAS DISCOVERED." " THE VAIN PURSUIT!"
" PANIC RUMOURS!" No wonder that " the
government and its friends feel like men
standing above a deadly mine," and that
"the sympathisers with Fenianism, irrepressible
in their exultation, went about with fired
eye and flushed face clutching each other's
hands." Not unnaturally, " the members of the
police force—the detective force especially—
looked like men crushed, defeated, humiliated."
This same journal had promised a Portrait of
the "Escaped;" but, under circumstances of
delicacy — " events which have transpired since
our first edition went to press" — the journal is
compelled to withhold the portrait, as being
possibly unfair to the interests of the gentleman
now at large. But, to make up for the
disappointment, "A VIEW OF THE SCENE OF THE
ESCAPE, drawn for this journal by our special
artist," was to be ready with the next impression.
Purchasing the "next impression," I
confess to fresh disappointment in finding
a mere bald "ground-plan" of the Bridewell
put forward " as the scene of the escape,
drawn by our special artist."

But another journal is not inclined to allow a
monopoly of sensation to a rival, and has "headings"
also of this pattern: " THE ESCAPE."
"WHAT IT WAS THE MORNING AFTER."
"MORALISING ABOUT IT." "HOW WAS IT
DONE? " " WHERE SUSPICION POINTS."
"AVOIDING FELON-SETTING." "HOW STEPHENS
TOOK. IT." " WHAT RUMOUR SAYS." "THE
HOUR OF THE DEED!"

The same journal has an artist taking
"pen-and-pencil notes." These notes are broken up,
according to the proper model, to give effect.
As a little problem, the reader may set himself
to devise how he would describe the scene
"AROUND THE COURT!—Thus, in Capel-street
the tide of the city's human ocean seems to set
with constant flow, and through these narrow
approaches to the court, that of Little Britain-street,
and that by which Green-street is reached
from North King-street, it is choked and impeded
with its density. It is with difficulty that crowd
of sullen men is threaded," &c.

The next scene is "!N THE COURT.—How
empty that gallery, those side seats, that passage
on either side" The sketcher notices the wife
of the prisoner. " Her husband is in the dock
to-day! God keep you strong, O warm-hearted
daughter of Innisfail; for yours, after all, is a
sore strait and dire travail this winter morning,
and love stronger than death must be quivering
your heart-strings as he plays them with painful
touch to melodies that make the eyes run over, and
the throat full to choking. I will not look at
you any more, but wish you well," &c.

"SILENCE IN THE COURT " is illustrated thus:
"THE HARSH VOICE of the crier recals me to the
scene around."

Next picture is " THE GLADIATORS.—There
they are, with piles of briefs before them: pulling
more still out of their bags, and arranging the