When his oratory was drawing to its climax, he drew a watch from a breast pocket. ‘I’ll not detain you much longer, good people. I know that you have made great sacrifices and you have been required to show great courage. But I also tell you that you have made great progress in your struggle. Each day we hear of once-powerful landlords agreeing to the terms you have forced from the government in London and returning the estates they have robbed from the Irish people back to their rightful owners. But much remains to be achieved. Too many of the thieves and robbers are still in possession. Even yet, we know of evictions, in Donegal, in Kerry, in my own native Mayo. The struggle is far from over.

‘There is one other matter that I want to raise with you, my friends. Mr Parnell . . . that great Irishman . . . Charles Stewart Parnell . . . is currently facing an evil inquisition in London. It is part of an abominable campaign by The Times newspaper in collaboration with a corrupt government and supported by those who believe they can continue to hold Ireland as a private estate, a pleasure ground for hunting and fishing, with its people as serfs.’

He paused momentarily. ‘I would say to you, maintain your support for Mr Parnell. Stand with him in his time of trial, as he stands with the people of Ireland. It is no secret that I have my differences with him, although even in these differences I believe him to be well-intentioned. He is a powerful enemy to your enemies, and as such he is your ally and your prince of men. Do not allow him to be dragged down.’

Davitt bowed and turned as Kettle emerged from the wings to escort him off the stage. As he disappeared from view, the Round Room broke into a thunder of applause, accompanied by further stamping of feet. From somewhere behind them, Maria and Harriet heard a section of the crowd take up ‘A Nation Once Again’ even as the seats nearest the doors started to empty.

The November evening was turning to darkness, with the gas lights along Dawson Street flaring into yellow as they left the meeting. A handful of uniformed DMP men stood watchfully under a sergeant, lining the pavement opposite the Mansion House. Somewhere too, Maria knew from what she had learned of Swallow’s work, there would be G-men, measuring the strength of the crowd, noting the presence or otherwise of prominent Leaguers or activists. The Round Room would not have fully emptied before police agents would be delivering an account of who had been on the platform and what had been said by the speakers.

‘Wasn’t that stimulating?’ Harriet clutched at Maria’s arm. ‘Mr Davitt is a powerful orator. And it’s important that he stands shoulder to shoulder with Mr Parnell when he needs support.’