II
ABOUT six o’clock Norah entered Glenmornan. Here she met three boys and two girls bound for the rabble market of Strabane. One of the boys was whistling a tune, the other two chattered noisily; the girls, who were silent, carried each a pair of hob-nailed boots hung over their shoulders.
“Good luck to your journey,” said Norah Ryan, by way of salutation.
“And to yours,” they answered.
“Are there lots of ones a-goin’ this mornin’?” she asked in English.
“Lots,” answered one of the girls, making the sign of the cross on her brow. “Two gasairs of Oiney Dinchy’s, one of Cormac of the Hill’s ones, seven or more from the townland of Dooran, and more besides.”
“Many goin’ from Glenmornan?”
“Lots,” said the boy who had been whistling.
Norah waited for him to proceed, but finding that he remained silent, she enquired as to who was going.
“Condy Dan, Hudy Neddy, Columb Kennedy, Unah Roarty and”—the boy paused for a moment to scratch his head—“and Dermod Flynn, the gasair that struck Master Diver with the pointer.”