"How did they shoot him—how could they shoot him? He couldn't sit up in his bed. He couldn't stand up to be shot," I cried. "How was he shot?"
"It was a terrible shock to me," said Father Aloyisus. "I had been with him that evening and I promised to come to him this afternoon. I felt sure there would be no more executions—at least that is how I read the words of Mr. Asquith. And your father was so much easier than he had been. I was sure that he would get his first night's real rest."
"But, how did they shoot him, Father?"
"The ambulance that brought you home from him came for me. I was astonished. I had felt so sure that I would not be needed that for the first time since the rising I locked the doors. And some time after two, I was knocked up. The ambulance brought me to your father. He was a wonderful man. I am sorry to say that of all men who have been executed, he was the only one I did not know personally. Though I knew of him and admired his work. I will always thank God as long as I live that He permitted me to be with your father till he was dead. Such a wonderful man he was. Such concentration of mind."
"Yes, Father, but they shot him—how?"
"They carried him from his bed in an ambulance stretcher down to a waiting ambulance and drove him to Kilmainham Jail. They carried him from the ambulance to the Jail yard and put him on a chair.... He was very brave and cool.... I said to him, 'Will you pray for the men who are about to shoot you,' and he said, 'I will say a prayer for all brave men who do their duty.' ... His prayer was, 'Forgive them for they know not what they do.' ... And then they shot him...."
"What did they do with him, then?" whispered my mother.
"They took the body to Arbor Hill Barracks. All the men who were executed are there."