"You're mistaken, man. It's some one else."
"Your uncle Alan's a dead man. And what's more: I have a word from him for ye."
"But I'd have heard."
"I cam' out in steam. It went against the grain a bit, but I cam' out in steam. From Belfast.... With a new boat out of Queen's Island ... Alan Donn's a dead man. That's why I stopped you. For to tell you your uncle Alan's gone...."
"Come in, here," Shane said dazedly. He pulled the man into a bar, and sat down in a snug. "Tell me."
"It was about nine in the morning, and an awful gray day it was, wi' a heavy sea running and a nor'easter, and this schooner was getting the timbers pounded out o' her. Her upper gear was gone entirely, and we could no' see how she was below, on account of the high seaway. She was a Frenchman, or a Portuguese. And she was gone. And we were all on shore, wondering why she had no' put into Greenock or Stranraer, or what kind of sailors they were at all, at all.
"Up comes your uncle Alan; and he says: 'Has anybody put out to give those poor bastards a hand?' says he.
"'There's no chance, Alan Donn,' says we.
"And he says: 'How the hell do you know?' says he.
"And we say: 'Can't you see for youself, Alan Donn, wi' the sea that's in it, and the wind that's in it, and the currents, there's no chance to help them?'