_Jack Smith:_ (_Trying to free himself._) Let me at him! Isn’t he the pleasant sort of a scarecrow for any woman to be crossing the ocean with! It’s back from the docks of New York he’d be turned (_trying to rush at him again_), with a lie in his mouth and treachery in his heart, and another man’s wife by his side, and he passing her off as his own! Let me at him can’t you. (_Makes another rush, but is held back._) _Magistrate:_ (_Pointing to Jack Smith._) Policeman, put the handcuffs on this man. I see it all now. A case of false impersonation, a conspiracy to defeat the ends of justice. There was a case in the Andaman Islands, a murderer of the Mopsa tribe, a religious enthusiast—— _Policeman:_ So he might be, too. _Magistrate:_ We must take both these men to the scene of the murder. We must confront them with the body of the real Jack Smith. _Jack Smith:_ I’ll break the head of any man that will find my dead body! _Magistrate:_ I’ll call more help from the barracks. (_Blows Policeman’s whistle._) _Bartley:_ It is what I am thinking, if myself and Jack Smith are put together in the one cell for the night, the handcuffs will be taken off him, and his hands will be free, and murder will be done that time surely! _Magistrate:_ Come on! (_They turn to the right._) HYACINTH HALVEY PERSONS _Hyacinth Halvey._ _James Quirke, a butcher._ _Fardy Farrell, a telegraph boy._ _Sergeant Carden._ _Mrs. Delane, Postmistress at Cloon._ _Miss Joyce, the Priest’s House-keeper._ HYACINTH HALVEY _Scene: Outside the Post Office at the little town of Cloon. Mrs. Delane at Post Office door. Mr. Quirke sitting on a chair at butcher’s door. A dead sheep hanging beside it, and a thrush in a cage above. Fardy Farrell playing on a mouth organ. Train whistle heard._ _Mrs. Delane:_ There is the four o’clock train, Mr. Quirke. _Mr. Quirke:_ Is it now, Mrs. Delane, and I not long after rising? It makes a man drowsy to be doing the half of his work in the night time. Going about the country, looking for little stags of sheep, striving to knock a few shillings together. That contract for the soldiers gives me a great deal to attend to. _Mrs. Delane:_ I suppose so. It’s hard enough on myself to be down ready for the mail car in the morning, sorting letters in the half dark. It’s often I haven’t time to look who are the letters from—or the cards. _Mr. Quirke:_ It would be a pity you not to know any little news might be knocking about. If you did not have information of what is going on who should have it? Was it you, ma’am, was telling me that the new Sub-Sanitary Inspector would be arriving to-day? _Mrs. Delane:_ To-day it is he is coming, and it’s likely he was in that train. There was a card about him to Sergeant Carden this morning. _Mr. Quirke:_ A young chap from Carrow they were saying he was.