Alexander Barry told me that he had counted, and that they were three hundred and four.

We were all breathless with anxiety, when Charles Wood, who stood near the door, jumped up on a bench and cried out, "They are only three hundred and one." We set up a shout that you might have heard to Charing Cross, waving our hats, stamping against the floor, and clapping our hands.

The tellers scarcely got through the crowd; for the House was thronged up to the table, and all the floor was fluctuating with heads like the pit of a theatre.

But you might have heard a pin drop as Duncannon read the numbers.

Then again the shouts broke out, and many of us shed tears.