On Monday morning Mamma went to see my father. Before she went I said, "If you get the chance tell him that we are safe."
"O, I'd be afraid to mention your name," she said.
"Well," I said. "Tell him that Gwendolyn Violet has turned out to be a great walker; that she walked to Dublin. That will satisfy him and quiet his mind."
Gwendolyn Violet was a name bestowed on me by my father when once I had tried to ride my high-horse. And he often used it when he did not desire to refer to me by name.
Before Mamma was allowed to see Papa she was subjected to a most rigorous search. She was also required to give her word that she would not tell him of anything that had gone on outside since the rebellion. Also to promise that she would not bring in anything for him to take his life with. My youngest sister, who was not quite eight years old, and whom Mamma had brought with her was also searched. Mamma came home in a more contented frame of mind. She was sure that he would be spared to her for some time.
On Tuesday I went with Mamma to see my father. There were soldiers on guard at the top of the stairs and in the small alcove leading to Papa's room. They were fully armed and as they stood guard they had their bayonets fixed. All that armed force for a wounded man who could not raise his shoulders from the bed!
In Papa's room there was an officer of the R.A.M.C. all the time with him. Papa had been wounded in the leg, both bones had been fractured. When I saw him his wounded leg was resting in a cage. He was very weak and pale and his voice was very low. I asked him was he suffering much pain.
"No," he said. "But I have been courtmartialed to-day. They propped me up in bed. The strain was very great."
I was very much depressed. I had been thinking that there would be no attempt to shoot him till he was well. But then—I knew, that if they courtmartialed him while he was unable to sit up in his bed, they would not hesitate to shoot while he was wounded. I asked him how he got wounded.
"It was while I had gone out to place some men at a certain point. On my way back I was shot above the ankle by a sniper. Both bones in my leg are shattered. I was too far away from the men whom I had just placed to see me, and I was too far from the Post Office to be seen. So I had to crawl back till I was seen. The loss of blood was great. They couldn't get it staunched."