"Sit beside me, Dermod," she said. "It will be warmer for two."
I sat down, and the girl nestled close to me in the darkness. The sickle moon drifted up the sky, furrowing the pearl-powdered floor with its silver front. Far away on the Irish coast I could see the lights in the houses along-shore. When seated a while I found Norah's hand resting in mine, and then, lulled with the throb of the engine and the weeping song of the sea, I fell into a deep sleep, forgetting the horror of the night and the red wound on my face where O'Donnel had struck me with his fist.
Dawn was breaking when I awoke. Norah still slept, her head close against my arm, and her face, beautiful in repose, turned towards mine. Her cherry-red lips lay apart, and I could see the two rows of pearly white teeth between. The pink tips of her ears peeped from amid the coils of her hair, and I placed my hand on her head and stroked her brown tresses ever so softly. She woke so quietly that the change from sleeping to waking was hardly noticeable. The traces of dim dreams were yet in her eyes, and as I watched her my mind was full of unspoken thoughts.
"Have ye seen Scotland yet, Dermod?" she asked.
"That's it, I think," I said, as I pointed at the shoreline visible many miles away.
"Isn't it like Ireland." Norah nestled closer to me as she spoke. "I would like to be goin' back again," she said after a long silence.
"I'm going to make a great fortune in Scotland, Norah," I said. "And I'm going to make you a great lady."
"Why are ye goin' to do that?" she asked.
"I don't know," I confessed, and the two of us laughed together.