’The most extraordinary circumstance connected with the outrage is the secrecy and stealth which must have been resorted to in order to avoid detection.  It was well known in the neighbourhood that not alone were three policemen constantly at Edenburn for Mr. Hussey’s protection, but that a number of dogs were also kept on the premises, and it is, therefore, astonishing the care and caution which must have been resorted to in order to successfully lay and explode the destructive material.  Some idea of the force of the explosion as well as the stability of the building which resisted it in a measure, may be gathered from the fact that it was distinctly heard in the town of Castleisland four miles away.  Mr. R. Roche, J.P., who lives a mile from Edenburn, also distinctly heard the explosion, which he describes as resembling in sound that caused by the fall of a huge tree in close proximity.  Those who were at Edenburn at the time state that between four and half-past four a low rumbling noise, followed by a sharp report, was heard.  The house trembled and shook to its foundations.  The inmates, some of whom were only awakened by the shock, were seized with an indescribable terror.  All the windows were smashed to atoms, the furniture and fixtures in the interior were rattled, and some lighter articles disturbed from their position.  The suddenness of the alarm, and the darkness of the night, coupled with an indefinite idea as to the nature and extent of the explosion, made the occupants of the house afraid to stir, and it was not until some servants living adjacent arrived that the consternation caused in the household subsided sufficiently to enable them to examine the house, and judge of the narrow escape they had had from a violent and horrible death.’

The consternation most decidedly did not spread to the master and mistress of the establishment.  The Kerry Sentinel quickly had an allusion to ’a report that Mr. Hussey turned into bed after the outrage with one of his laconic jokes—­that he should be called when the next explosion occurred.’

As a matter of fact what I did say was:-"My dear, we can have a quiet night at last, for the scoundrels won’t bother us again before breakfast.”

And I can solemnly testify that within ten minutes of that observation I was fast asleep, and never woke till I was called.

But perhaps the best impression of what occurred can be obtained from the recollection of my daughter Florence, now Mrs. Nicoll, who was an inmate of Edenburn at the time.

’I was awakened by a terrific noise, which to my sleepy wits conveyed the impression that the roof had fallen in.  It was then between three and four in the morning.  I lit a candle and ran out into the passage where were congregating my family in night attire.  My father was perfectly calm.

’"Dynamite and badly managed,” was his laconic explanation.  We all asked each other if we were hurt, and began to be alarmed about my brother John, who, however, put in an appearance in a singularly attenuated nightshirt, with a candle in one hand and a revolver in the other, with which he was rubbing his sleepy eyes.