Then he ate his dinner, and went out to pay another visit to the "Blue Anchor."
By this time Jim Phelan had told the story of that day's visit to the Black Rock to many of the villagers, and although the simple fisher folk as a rule retired very early during the long nights, most of them made an exception on this occasion. Many of the men and women sought neighbours' houses, and discussed the mysterious appearance of the form of Fahey hours after their usual time for going to bed.
But Jim himself was not at any of these domestic gatherings. He was the hero of the hour, and the natural place for a hero was the taproom of the "Blue Anchor."
There was a feeling among the men of Kilcash that no subject of prime importance to the village could be discussed anywhere else so well as in the taproom of the "Blue Anchor." Ordinary events of an ordinary day might be suited to the shelter of the Storm Wall on the shoreward face in a breeze or rain, or the rocks beneath the wall when the weather was fine. But neither of these, nor even the bar of the "Blue Anchor" itself, accorded with grave or exciting discourse of an exceptional nature. The taproom was the only place in which men could give unbridled license to debate. Here one could not only unbend, but give expression to the most audacious theories without danger of reproof or repression by wives or mothers.
When O'Brien entered, a dozen men were crowded into the dimly-lighted, squalid room. As he had drawn near the house he heard voices raised in eager conversation. His entrance was the signal for silence. This was partly owing to his superior social position, and partly to the fact that his name had mingled freely in the talk for some time. He sat down, called for beer for himself and those around him, and lit a cigar. The storm was still blowing so strongly that he had found it impossible to smoke in the open air.
Jim Phelan was there, and the men were all seated as close as the rickety benches would allow.
"Well, men," said O'Brien, "I dare say I could guess what you were talking of. Did any of you ever hear of anything like it until now?--I mean, did any of you ever hear that the ghost of this man Fahey had been seen in the neighbourhood before?"
Several men answered in the negative; the others shook their heads.
O'Brien then rehearsed all he had gathered from Phelan of Fahey, and asked the others if they could add anything to the tale.
At this they shook their heads also. He then inquired if among them they could find an explanation. But this produced no better result. He felt baffled, discouraged. He had not counted on learning much, but he had expected to gather something.