Christy (considering). Aye. I buried him then. Wasn’t I digging spuds in the field?

Michael And the peelers never followed after you the eleven days that you’re out?

Christy (shaking his head). Never a one of them, and I walking forward facing hog, dog, or divil on the highway of the road.

Philly (nodding wisely). It’s only with a common week-day kind of a murderer them lads would be trusting their carcase, and that man should be a great terror when his temper’s roused.

Michael He should then. (To Christy.) And where was it, mister honey, that you did the deed?

Christy (looking at him with suspicion). Oh, a distant place, master of the house, a windy corner of high, distant hills.

Philly (nodding with approval). He’s a close man, and he’s right, surely.

Pegeen That’d be a lad with the sense of Solomon to have for a pot-boy, Michael James, if it’s the truth you’re seeking one at all.

Philly The peelers is fearing him, and if you’d that lad in the house there isn’t one of them would come smelling around if the dogs itself were lapping poteen from the dung-pit of the yard.

Jimmy Bravery’s a treasure in a lonesome place, and a lad would kill his father, I’m thinking, would face a foxy divil with a pitchpike on the flags of hell.

Pegeen It’s the truth they’re saying, and if I’d that lad in the house, I wouldn’t be fearing the loosed kharki cut-throats, or the walking dead.

Christy (swelling with surprise and triumph).—Well, glory be to God!

Michael (with deference). Would you think well to stop here and be pot-boy, mister honey, if we gave you good wages, and didn’t destroy you with the weight of work.

Shawn (coming forward uneasily). That’d be a queer kind to bring into a decent quiet household with the like of Pegeen Mike.

Pegeen (very sharply). Will you whisht? Who’s speaking to you?

Shawn (retreating). A bloody-handed murderer the like of . . .

Pegeen (snapping at him). Whisht I am saying; we’ll take no fooling from your like at all. (To Christy with a honeyed voice.) And you, young fellow, you’d have a right to stop, I’m thinking, for we’d do our all and utmost to content your needs.

Christy (overcome with wonder). And I’d be safe in this place from the searching law?

Michael You would, surely. If they’re not fearing you, itself, the peelers in this place is decent drouthy poor fellows, wouldn’t touch a cur dog and not give warning in the dead of night.

Pegeen (very kindly and persuasively). Let you stop a short while anyhow. Aren’t you destroyed walking with your feet in bleeding blisters, and your whole skin needing washing like a Wicklow sheep.

Christy (looking round with satisfaction). It’s a nice room, and if it’s not humbugging me you are, I’m thinking that I’ll surely stay.