Joseph Antony looked at Mr. Pennefather again. “I wouldn’t say there was much harm in him,” he said. “There’s none,” said Priscilla, “absolutely none. Isn’t he paying £4 a week for that old boat of Flanagan’s. Doesn’t that show you the kind of man he is?” “Unless,” said Joseph Antony, “it could be that he’s signed the pledge for life.” “Have you signed the pledge for life, Barnabas?” said Priscilla. “Let go of her hand for one minute and answer the question that’s asked you.” “Does he mean a temperance pledge?” said Mr. Pennefather. “I do,” said Joseph Antony. “Are you a member of the Total Abstinence Sodality?” “I take a little whisky after my work on Sunday evenings,” said Mr. Pennefather, “and, of course, when I’m dining out I----” “That’ll do,” said Joseph Antony. “A man that takes it one time will take it another. I suppose now you’re not any ways connected with the police?” “He is not,” said Priscilla. “Can’t you see he’s a clergyman?” “It’s beyond me,” said Joseph Antony, “what brings you to Inishbawn at all.” “The way things are with you at present,” said Priscilla, “it wouldn’t be a bad thing to have a clergyman staying with you on the island. It would look respectable.” “It would, of course,” said Joseph Antony. “If any question ever came to be asked,” said Priscilla, “about what’s going on here, it would be a grand thing for you to be able to say that you had the Rev. Barnabas Pennefather stopping along with you.” “It would surely,” said Joseph Antony. Priscilla jumped out of the boat and drew Kinsella a little way up the beach. “If anything was to come out,” she whispered, “you could say that it was the strange clergyman and that you didn’t know what was going on.” “I might,” said Joseph Antony. Priscilla turned to the boat joyfully. “Hop out, Barnabas,” she shouted, “and take the tents and things with you. It’s all settled. Joseph Antony will give you the run of his island and you’ll be perfectly safe.” Mr. Pennefather climbed over the bows of the Tortoise. Lady Isabel tugged at the hold-all, which was tucked away under a thwart and heaved it with a great effort into her husband’s arms. He staggered under the weight of it. Joseph Antony Kinsella’s instinctive politeness asserted itself. “Will you let me take that from you?” he said. “The like of them parcels isn’t fit for your reverence to carry.” Lady Isabel got the rest of her luggage out of the Tortoise. Then she and Mr. Pennefather went to Jimmy Kinsella’s boat and unloaded it. They had a good deal of luggage altogether. When everything was stacked on the beach Mrs. Kinsella, with her baby in her arms, came down and looked at the pile with amazement. Three small, bare-legged Kinsellas, young brothers of Jimmy’s, followed her. She turned to Priscilla. “Maybe now,” she said, “them ones is after being evicted? Tell me this, was it out of shops or off the land that they did be getting their living before the trouble came on them?”