“No, no, don’t speak of him; I shall not be able to sleep all night. Since they settled on that hill, in that accursed castle, I know no rest; I am dying of fear. You are also afraid. Confess it.”
“Well, not all of us are afraid.”
“What have they come here for? There are two of them. What is there for them to do here in our poor land, where we have nothing but stones and the sea?”
“They drink gin. The sailor comes every morning for gin.”
“They are simply drunkards who don’t want anybody to disturb their drinking. When the sailor passes along the street he leaves behind him an odour as of an open bottle of rum.”
“But is that their business—drinking gin? I fear them. Where is the ship that brought them here? They came from the sea.”
“I saw the ship,” says Mariet.
The women begin to question her in amazement.
“You? Why, then, didn’t you say anything about it? Tell us what you know.”
Mariet maintains silence. Suddenly one of the women exclaims: