Priscilla jumped out of the boat and drew Kinsella a little way up the beach.
“If anything was to come out,” she whispered, “you could say that it was the strange clergyman and that you didn’t know what was going on.”
“I might,” said Joseph Antony.
Priscilla turned to the boat joyfully.
“Hop out, Barnabas,” she shouted, “and take the tents and things with you. It’s all settled. Joseph Antony will give you the run of his island and you’ll be perfectly safe.”
Mr. Pennefather climbed over the bows of the Tortoise.
Lady Isabel tugged at the hold-all, which was tucked away under a thwart and heaved it with a great effort into her husband’s arms. He staggered under the weight of it. Joseph Antony Kinsella’s instinctive politeness asserted itself.
“Will you let me take that from you?” he said. “The like of them parcels isn’t fit for your reverence to carry.”
Lady Isabel got the rest of her luggage out of the Tortoise. Then she and Mr. Pennefather went to Jimmy Kinsella’s boat and unloaded it. They had a good deal of luggage altogether. When everything was stacked on the beach Mrs. Kinsella, with her baby in her arms, came down and looked at the pile with amazement. Three small, bare-legged Kinsellas, young brothers of Jimmy’s, followed her. She turned to Priscilla.
“Maybe now,” she said, “them ones is after being evicted? Tell me this, was it out of shops or off the land that they did be getting their living before the trouble came on them?”