MAURTEEN. And maybe it is natural upon May Eve To dream of the good people. But tell me, girl, If you've the branch of blessed quicken wood That women hang upon the post of the door That they may send good luck into the house? Remember they may steal new-married brides After the fall of twilight on May Eve, Or what old women mutter at the fire Is but a pack of lies. FATHER HART. It may be truth We do not know the limit of those powers God has permitted to the evil spirits For some mysterious end. You have done right. (to MARY); It's well to keep old innocent customs up. (MARY BRUIN has taken a bough of quicken wood from a seat and hung it on a nail in the doorpost. A girl child strangely dressed, perhaps in faery green, comes out of the wood and takes it away.) MARY. I had no sooner hung it on the nail Before a child ran up out of the wind; She has caught it in her hand and fondled it; Her face is pale as water before dawn. FATHER HART. Whose child can this be? MAURTEEN. No one's child at all. She often dreams that some one has gone by, When there was nothing but a puff of wind. MARY. They have taken away the blessed quicken wood, They will not bring good luck into the house; Yet I am glad that I was courteous to them, For are not they, likewise, children of God? FATHER HART. Colleen, they are the children of the fiend, And they have power until the end of Time, When God shall fight with them a great pitched battle And hack them into pieces. MARY. He will smile, Father, perhaps, and open His great door. FATHER HART. Did but the lawless angels see that door They would fall, slain by everlasting peace; And when such angels knock upon our doors, Who goes with them must drive through the same storm. (A thin old arm comes round the door-post and knocks and beckons. It is clearly seen in the silvery light. MARY BRUIN goes to door and stands in it for a moment. MAURTEEN BRUIN is busy filling FATHER HART's plate. BRIDGET BRUIN stirs the fire.) MARY (coming to table) There's somebody out there that beckoned me And raised her hand as though it held a cup, And she was drinking from it, so it may be That she is thirsty. (She takes milk from the table and carries it to the door.) FATHER HART. That will be the child That you would have it was no child at all. BRIDGET. And maybe, Father, what he said was true; For there is not another night in the year So wicked as to-night. MAURTEEN. Nothing can harm us While the good Father's underneath our roof. MARY. A little queer old woman dressed in green. BRIDGET. The good people beg for milk and fire Upon May Eve--woe to the house that gives, For they have power upon it for a year. MAURTEEN. Hush, woman, hush! BRIDGET. She's given milk away. I knew she would bring evil on the house. MAURTEEN. Who was it? MARY. Both the tongue and face were strange. MAURTEEN. Some strangers came last week to Clover Hill; She must be one of them. BRIDGET. I am afraid.