assembled on the jetty to see her come in; I was amongst the number; she did not bring the prisoners; she reported having been alongside the whaler. The captain and one boat's crew were absent. The authorities in the steamer requested to go on board, but were refused permission. As the vessel lay in neutral waters, they could not use force to attain their desires.
The water police boat is still in chase of the missing ship's boat, but I doubt if they will come up with her. Under cover of the darkness of the night—and it threatens to be dark indeed—the absent crew, with the fugitives, will make the ship; and even if the police crew found them, and there was a fight, as there would be pretty sure to be, if a forced capture were attempted, it is very doubtful who would be the victors. Against the fifteen water police, there would be the six prisoners, their two accomplices, and the boat's crew.
The whistle is sounding its warning, and my letter must hurry to the post. With kindest love to all, believe me,
Your affectionate son, J. O'Reilly.
—Pilot, June 24, 1876.
THE ESCAPE OF THE POLITICAL PRISONERS
"There was a torchlight procession in Dublin on Saturday night, June 10, in celebration of the escape of the political convicts from West Australia, and Disraeli was burned in effigy." So runs the latest telegram from Ireland, and the news is fully significant. Ireland knows the meaning of the escape, and will act on it. It was planned and carried out by her sons in America; and this fact will intensify the national spirit of the Old Country, and make her feel that she is beginning to reap the harvest of her motherhood.
The first news of the escape of the Irish prisoners appeared last week in the following dispatch:—
