Give me that whiskey. Would you have herself come back before I taste a drop at all? Tramp gives him the glass and he drinks. ... Go over now to that cupboard, and bring me a black stick you'll see in the west corner by the wall.

TRAMP taking a stick from the cupboard. Is it that?

DAN. It is, stranger; it's a long time I'm keeping that stick, for I've a bad wife in the house.

TRAMP with a queer look. Is it herself, master of the house, and she a grand woman to talk?

DAN. It's herself, surely, it's a bad wife she is – a bad wife for an old man, and I'm getting old, God help me, though I've an arm to me still. He takes the stick in his hand. Let you wait now a short while, and it's a great sight you'll see in this room in two hours or three. He stops to listen. Is that somebody above?

TRAMP listening. There's a voice speaking on the path.

DAN. Put that stick here in the bed, and smooth the sheet the way it was lying. He covers himself up hastily. Be falling to sleep now and don't let on you know anything, or I'll be having your life. I wouldn't have told you at all but it's destroyed with the drouth I was.

TRAMP covering his head. Have no fear, master of the house. What is it I know of the like of you that I'd be saying a word or putting out my hand to stay you at all? He goes back to the fire, sits down on a stool with his back to the bed and goes on stitching his coat.

DAN under the sheet, querulously. Stranger.

TRAMP quickly. Whisht, whisht. Be quiet I'm telling you, they're coming now at the door.

 

Nora comes in with Michael Dara, a tall, innocent young man, behind her.

 

NORA. I wasn't long at all, stranger, for I met himself on the path.

TRAMP. You were middling long, lady of the house.

NORA. There was no sign from himself?

TRAMP. No sign at all, lady of the house.

NORA to Michael. Go over now and pull down the sheet, and look on himself, Michael Dara, and you'll see it's the truth I'm telling you.

MICHAEL. I will not, Nora, I do be afeard of the dead.

 

He sits down on a stool next the table facing The Tramp. Nora puts the kettle on a lower hook of the pot-hooks, and piles turf under it.

 

NORA turning to Tramp. Will you drink a sup of tea with myself and the young man, stranger, or speaking more persuasively will you go into the little room and stretch yourself a short while on the bed.