ones. John Dillon stood at the barricade.
The officer asked why his passage was interrupted, and stated he was
only on an ordinary march. Mr. Dillon demanded whether his object was
to arrest Smith O'Brien? He said emphatically, No. Mr. Dillon then asked
if he would pledge his honour as a soldier, that he had no intention of
arresting Mr. O'Brien, adding, that if he did so, the troop would be
allowed to pass unmolested. He unhesitatingly pledged his honour, and
immediately the barricade was partially removed. Mr. Dillon took his
horse by the bridle and led him out of the town.

We were approaching Killenaule by another route when Mr. O'Brien and his
party left it by the high road to the collieries. We followed, and after
a race of some ten miles overtook them near Lisnabrock. Thence we
proceeded in cars to Boulagh, and thence to the Commons. This was on
Friday evening, the 28th day of July. We retired to an upper room in a
publichouse. There were then present Mr. O'Brien, Mr. Dillon, Mr.
Stephens, Mr. Cantwell, Mr. Meagher, Mr. O'Donohoe, Mr. Maurice Leyne,
Mr. Reilly, Mr O'Mahony and myself, with others whose names I cannot
mention, fourteen, as well as I remember, in all.[10] The same questions
that were discussed on the former day were again revived, and we, who
felt the necessity of the bold course we recommended then, were much
more convinced of it under the altered circumstances of our position.

The debate was long and warm, but Mr. O'Brien's objections were even
more immovable than ever. It will not be expected that all the proposals
of that evening should be reproduced here. Suffice it, therefore, to
add that as far as the principles by which Mr. O'Brien's conduct was
guided, he adhered to them the more steadfastly in proportion as ruin
became more inevitable. Many calumnies have been circulated respecting
that meeting. It has been said that the discussion was acrimonious and
the separation final. The truth is, there was not one word, even, of an
angry tone, and we separated just as on the former occasion, determined
to cope as best we could with a doom we were unable to avert. Often
afterwards it was a source of melancholy pleasure to some of his
comrades that he had not been induced to incur what he regarded as
guilt. The lofty consciousness of unerring rectitude which sustained his
fortitude could not fail to be chequered by the recollection of acts
which in his own estimation were not purely blameless. Had s