IV
NORAH paused. Someone was moving outside as if fumbling for the latch; then a tall, heavily-bearded man pushed the door of the cabin inwards and entered, bringing with him a terrific gust of wind that almost shook the house to its foundations. On his face was a scared look, and his clothes were dripping wet, although it was not raining.
“Was it himself?” cried the old woman, alluding to her husband and speaking to the man who entered. It was evident from the tone in which she spoke that she anticipated something terrible.
“It was himself,” said the man in a low, hoarse voice. “He’s coming on the flat of two oars. God bless us! But it is a black heart that the sea has.”
With these words the visitor went out again, and the excited voices of men could be heard floating on the wind.
“It’s your father, Norah,” said the old woman. “He went down with the curragh, I’m thinking; down through the black water. Mother of God! but it’s the sea that has the black heart! There they are coming with him. Open the door wider, Norah!”
The girl, who had risen from her seat, pulled the door inwards and placed a stone against the sill to keep it open. She felt as if a thousand pins were pricking her legs; her head was heavy, her fingers felt enormous and when they pressed against the door it seemed to Norah as if they did not belong to her at all. Outside it was very dark, the heavens held no stars and it looked as if the howling gale had whirled them away. In the darkness a torch swayed in the wind, and behind the torch black forms of men and white, pallid faces could be discerned. Norah’s mind turned to the stories which her mother had been telling her. She knew it was wrong to think of them at that moment but she felt an inordinate desire to laugh at something; what she wanted to laugh at she did not know; why she wanted to laugh she could not fathom.
“Are they coming, Norah?” asked the old woman, rising from her seat and hobbling with difficulty towards the door. “Mother of Christ! but the hand of God is heavy on me this night of nights! Children of my own and man of my own, all, all going away from me! I’ll see the last of them go down into the grave before me, for with my hard cough and the long sickness I’ll outlive them all: that is the will of God. Ten sons and daughters of my body; every one of them gone, and one away in black foreign parts.... Are they coming, Norah?”
The woman reached the door and leant against the jamb for support. The torch was flaring outside and very near.
“Watch that you don’t set the thatch on fire!” a voice cried.