Norah rose in bed, her mind groping darkly with her surroundings. She had been dreaming of home and wakened with a vivid remembrance of her mother’s cabin still in her mind. The light of the sun shone full in her face and she lifted her hand up to shield her eyes. Then in a flash it was borne to her where she had spent the night. Several dark objects stood between her and the door; these developed into a grouping of persons, in the midst of which Alec Morrison stood out definitely. Norah, fully dressed, just as she had gone to sleep, moved towards him.
“Alec Morrison, I’ve come back,” she said, paused and looked at the girl beside him, then began to talk hurriedly. “I left the squad the day before yesterday; I travelled all the dark night and lost me way, for me mind would be busy with the thoughts that were coming to me.... Last night I came to yer door.... Alec Morrison, why are ye so scared lookin’? Sure ye’re not afraid of me!”
Morrison was in a very awkward fix, and this he confessed to himself. He never intended to marry the girl and never for a moment thought that the adventure of Christmas Eve would lead him into such a predicament. “And you are as well rid of her,” some evil voice whispered in his ear. “Look at her as she is now. Is she a suitable companion for you?” Morrison gazed covertly at the girl. Her hair, which had not been combed for two days, hung over her eyes and ears in tangled tufts; even the face, which still retained all its splendid beauty, was blackened by the dust which had fallen from the roof during the night.
“Are ye goin’ to do the right thing to the girl?” asked Donal. “It’s the only way out of it if ye have the spirit of a man in ye.”
Morrison gazed blankly at the man, then at Norah. A fierce and almost animal look came into her eyes as she faced him.
“I’ll do the right thing,” he said in a hoarse voice and turned and went out of the building, Ellen Keenans following at his heels. Norah watched them go, making no effort to detain them. When they went out she tottered towards the wall, reaching upwards with her hands as if wanting to touch resignation.
“It’s all over!” she exclaimed. “It’s him that has the black heart and will be goin’ to do the right thing with little bits of money. The right thing!” She leant against the cockroach-covered wall, her little voice raised in loud protest against the monstrous futility of existence.
III
AN hour later Morrison returned to the sty, carrying gold in his pocket but feeling very awkward. He and Ellen had quarrelled. When they went out into the open from the sty she turned on him fiercely.
“How many of these souls might be saved if some restraining hand was reached out to help them!” she quoted sneeringly.