Peter went out of the door, and was away some time; but he came back without Pat.
"The night is that dark, I lost him," he said. Then Kate did not seem to care what she said. Her black hair fell down, and she told Peter he was a fool, and that he should have run faster. Her mother said it was the porter that had been too much for her; but she said it was the priest's blessing, and this frightened everyone. But, after saying all this, she went to her husband, saying that he was very good to her, and she had no fault to find with him. But no sooner were the words out of her mouth than her mind seemed to wander, and everyone had expected her to run out of the house. But she went into the other room instead, and shut the door behind her. Everyone knew then there would be no more dancing that night; and the piper packed up his pipes. And Peter sat by the fire, and he seemed to be crying. They were all sorry to leave him like this; and, so that he might not remember what had happened, Ned drew a big jug of porter, and put it by him.
He drank a sup out of it, but seemed to forget everything, and the jug fell out of his hand.
"Never mind the pieces, Peter," his mother said.
"You can't put them together; and it would be better for you not to drink any more porter. Go to bed. There's been too much drinking this night."
"Mother, I want to know why she said I didn't run fast enough after Pat. And didn't she know that if I hit Pat so hard it was because there were knobs on his stick; and didn't I pick up his stick by mistake of my own."
"Sure, Peter, it wasn't your fault; we all know that and Kate knows it too. Now let there be no more talking or drinking. No, Peter, you've had enough porter for to-night."
He looked round the kitchen, and seeing that Kate was not there, he said:—
"She's in the other room, I think; mother, you'll be wantin' to go to bed."
And Peter got on his feet and stumbled against the wall, and his mother had to help him towards the door.