Chapter 58
_Cottage kitchen, with nets, oil-skins, spinning wheel, some new boards standing by the wall, etc. CATHLEEN, a girl of about twenty, finishes kneading cake, and puts it down in the pot-oven by the fire; then wipes her hands, and begins to spin at the wheel. NORA, a young girl, puts her head in at the door._
NORA [_in a low voice_]. Where is she?
CATHLEEN. She's lying down, G.o.d help her, and may be sleeping, if she's able. [_NORA comes in softly, and takes a bundle from under her shawl._]
CATHLEEN [_spinning the wheel rapidly_]. What is it you have?
NORA. The young priest is after bringing them. It's a s.h.i.+rt and a plain stocking were got off a drowned man in Donegal. [_CATHLEEN stops her wheel with a sudden movement, and leans out to listen._]
NORA. We're to find out if it's Michael's they are, some time herself will be down looking by the sea.
CATHLEEN. How would they be Michael's, Nora? How would he go the length of that way to the far north?
NORA. The young priest says he's known the like of it. "If it's Michael's they are," says he, "you can tell herself he's got a clean burial by the grace of G.o.d, and if they're not his, let no one say a word about them, for she'll be getting her death," says he, "with crying and lamenting." [_The door which NORA half closed is blown open by a gust of wind._]
CATHLEEN [_looking out anxiously_]. Did you ask him would he stop Bartley going this day with the horses to the Galway fair?
NORA. "I won't stop him," says he, "but let you not be afraid. Herself does be saying prayers half through the night, and the Almighty G.o.d won't leave her dest.i.tute," says he, "with no son living."
CATHLEEN. Is the sea bad by the white rocks, Nora?
NORA. Middling bad, G.o.d help us. There's a great roaring in the west, and it's worse it'll be getting when the tide's turned to the wind.
[_She goes over to the table with the bundle._] Shall I open it now?
CATHLEEN. Maybe she'd wake up on us, and come in before we'd done.
[_Coming to the table._] It's a long time we'll be, and the two of us crying.
NORA [_goes to the inner door and listens_]. She's moving about on the bed. She'll be coming in a minute.
CATHLEEN. Give me the ladder, and I'll put them up in the turf-loft, the way she won't know of them at all, and maybe when the tide turns she'll be going down to see would he be floating from the east. [_They put the ladder against the gable of the chimney; CATHLEEN goes up a few steps and hides the bundle in the turf-loft. MAURYA comes from the inner room._]
MAURYA [_looking up at CATHLEEN and speaking querulously._] Isn't it turf enough you have for this day and evening?
CATHLEEN. There's a cake baking at the fire for a short s.p.a.ce [_throwing down the turf_] and Bartley will want it when the tide turns if he goes to Connemara. [_NORA picks up the turf and puts it round the pot-oven._]
MAURYA [_sitting down on a stool at the fire_]. He won't go this day with the wind rising from the south and west. He won't go this day, for the young priest will stop him surely.
NORA. He'll not stop him, mother,
MAURYA. Where is he itself?
NORA. He went down to see would there be another boat sailing in the week, and I'm thinking it won't be long till he's here now, for the tide's turning at the green head, and the hooker's tacking from the east.
CATHLEEN. I hear someone pa.s.sing the big stones.
NORA [_looking out_]. He's coming now, and he in a hurry.
BARTLEY [_comes in and looks round the room. Speaking sadly and quietly_]. Where is the bit of new rope, Cathleen, was bought in Connemara?
CATHLEEN [_coming down_]. Give it to him, Nora; it's on a nail by the white boards. I hung it up this morning, for the pig with the black feet was eating it.
NORA [_giving him a rope_]. Is that it, Bartley?
MAURYA. You'd do right to leave that rope, Bartley, hanging by the boards. [_BARTLEY takes the rope._] It will be wanting in this place, I'm telling you, if Michael is washed up to-morrow morning, or the next morning, or any morning in the week, for it's a deep grave we'll make him by the grace of G.o.d.
BARTLEY [_beginning to work with the rope_]. I've no halter the way I can ride down on the mare, and I must go now quickly. This is the one boat going for two weeks or beyond it, and the fair will be a good fair for horses I heard them saying below.
MAURYA. It's a hard thing they'll be saying below if the body is washed up and there's no man in it to make the coffin, and I after giving a big price for the finest white boards you'd find in Connemara. [_She looks round at the boards._]
BARTLEY. How would it be washed up, and we after looking each day for nine days, and a strong wind blowing a while back from the west and south?
MAURYA. If it wasn't found itself, that wind is raising the sea, and there was a star up against the moon, and it rising in the night. If it was a hundred horses, or a thousand horses you had itself, what is the price of a thousand horses against a son where there is one son only?
BARTLEY [_working at the halter, to CATHLEEN_]. Let you go down each day, and see the sheep aren't jumping in on the rye, and if the jobber comes you can sell the pig with the black feet if there is a good price going.
MAURYA. How would the like of her get a good price for a pig?
BARTLEY [_to CATHLEEN_]. If the west wind holds with the last bit of the moon let you and Nora get up weed enough for another c.o.c.k for the kelp. It's hard set we'll be from this day with no one in it but one man to work.
MAURYA. It's hard set we'll be surely the day you're drownd'd with the rest. What way will I live and the girls with me, and I an old woman looking for the grave? [_BARTLEY lays down the halter, takes off his old coat, and puts on a newer one of the same flannel._]
BARTLEY [_to NORA_]. Is she coming to the pier?
NORA [_looking out_]. She's pa.s.sing the green head and letting fall her sails.
BARTLEY [_getting his purse and tobacco_]. I'll have half an hour to go down, and you'll see me coming again in two days, or in three days, or maybe in four days if the wind is bad.
MAURYA [_turning round to the fire, and putting her shawl over her head_]. Isn't it a hard and cruel man won't hear a word from an old woman, and she holding him from the sea?
CATHLEEN. It's the life of a young man to be going on the sea, and who would listen to an old woman with one thing and she saying it over?
BARTLEY [_taking the halter_]. I must go now quickly. I'll ride down on the red mare, and the gray pony'll run behind me.... The blessing of G.o.d on you. [_He goes out._]
MAURYA [_crying out as he is in the door_]. He's gone now, G.o.d spare us, and we'll not see him again. He's gone now, and when the black night is falling I'll have no son left me in the world.
CATHLEEN. Why wouldn't you give him your blessing and he looking round in the door? Isn't it sorrow enough is on everyone in this house without your sending him out with an unlucky word behind him, and a hard word in his ear? [_MAURYA takes up the tongs and begins raking the fire aimlessly without looking round._]
NORA [_turning towards her_]. You're taking away the turf from the cake.
CATHLEEN [_crying out_]. The Son of G.o.d forgive us, Nora, we're after forgetting his bit of bread. [_She comes over to the fire._]
NORA. And it's destroyed he'll be going till dark night, and he after eating nothing since the sun went up.
CATHLEEN [_turning the cake out of the oven_]. It's destroyed he'll be, surely. There's no sense left on any person in a house where an old woman will be talking forever. [_MAURYA sways herself on her stool._]
CATHLEEN [_cutting off some of the bread and rolling it in a cloth; to MAURYA_]. Let you go down now to the spring well and give him this and he pa.s.sing. You'll see him then and the dark word will be broken, and you can say "G.o.d speed you," the way he'll be easy in his mind.
MAURYA [_taking the bread_]. Will I be in it as soon as himself?