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’ tacking from the east.
CATHLEEN.
I hear some one passing the big stones.
NORA.
Looking out.—He’s coming now, and he’s 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 God.
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.]