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seventy, to be hanged within the week. The remaining prisoners and their friends, seized with panic, sent an urgent messenger from Cork to Derrynane, ninety miles away, to urge, O'Connell to hasten to the rescue. There was not a moment to spare, as the presiding judge had refused to delay the opening of the trial of the second batch one hour. He declared that his time was more precious than the lives of a few accused con spirators, and so the trial must proceed. O'Connell, traveling in a light conveyance, with relays of horses, and scarcely stopping for rest or food, traversed the exceedingly wretched Kerry roads at the highest speed. and at length arrived in the court house square, his horse dropping dead between the shafts as he descended. Thousands hailed him with wild shouts, "He's come! He's come!" Amid a frantic uproar of cheers, the great lawyer entered the court room, where the Solicitor-General was already addressing the jury. The Crown prosecutor turned white, and so did the faces of the accused, but for a different reason; the one saw defeat, the prisoners saw life and liberty before them instead of an ignominious death. O'Connell at once bowed to the judges— there were three of them on the bench—and apologized for not appearing in wig and gown; he also asked for permission to refresh himself in court, as he had not eaten for sev eral hours. A bowl of bread and milk was brought, and as he ate, a young barrister on either side of him poured into his ear what had been done already, and how the case stood. It was a strange scene. The Crown was represented by the aristocratic, well-groomed Solicitor-General, slim, tall and graceful, while O'Connell, big, massive, almost sloven ly looking, munched his bread and drank his milk. Not a word escaped him, and fre

quently he interrupted the learned Crown counsellor by shouting, his mouth filled with bread and milk, "That is not law Г Sometimes he had to argue his point, but in nearly every case the judges had to admit very reluctantly that he was right and the Solicitor-General wrong. But when he rose to cross-examine the witnesses he proved how successful he could be. They told, or tried to tell, the same story upon which the first batch had been con victed, but O'Connell so badgered, tripped and terrified them that their evidence went hopelessly to pieces and some even con fessed that they knew nothing about the case. It was late at night when the case was given to the jury and the judges ordered that no food, nor even a drink of water or a light, should be allowed the jury until a verdict was reached. All night, in the darkness of the jury-room the case was discussed; morning came and no decision was reached; the fore man asked for breakfast, but his request was refused; day merged into night, and the starved jurors again faced the blackness of their room, scarcely better than a prison cell, until on the following morning they an nounced that a verdict was impossible, for they could not agree. The accused were not tried again, for O'Connell secured the ac quittal of the third batch, and so the govern ment discharged them and commuted the sentence of the unfortunates who had been first tried and sentenced to death, to trans portation to the penal colony of Van Dieman's Land. One of the jurors almost hysterically ad dressed O'Connell: "Wisha, God knows 'tis little I thought of meeting you, Counsellor O'Connell! May the good Lord save me from you in the future!" That was the last case ever undertaken by O'Connell. He had earned his rest, for he had proved his power.