Robert Emmet did not go to the scaffold in Dublin with greater grace or more certainty of a kind of immortality. And Kate realizes that what has brought its own reward to Uncle Frank is not virtue but style: his idea of style, which not removed by more than a whisper from a kind of lawlessness and subversion. The style of all this will keep him alive under judgment.
(I also enthusiastically recommend To Asmara. Oh, it would be so interesting to look at it and Half of a Yellow Sun to explore themes in fiction about African wars of secession - and there must be more books like this out there. Let me know if you know of any!)
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