[Producing card and handing it to him.] There. That's it. WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN. There's time yet, man. After John Graeme, and make it up wi' him. Swear you were only makin' fun. ROBBIE JOHN. I stick by the fiddle. WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN. [Mad with anger.] Then stick by the fiddle. And know if ever you are weary or ahungered or in want, ye need nivir look me for any help. [Shouts.] Out you go. Out. Don't dar one of you as much as till take his hand. Out. Out the same as the beggar man gone, wi' the curse of your father on you. [Robbie John goes toward back and stands a moment as if in silent appeal at the open door. Mrs. Granahan rushes forward to her husband as if to entreat mercy. He angrily puts her away.] Out. Out you go. CURTAIN. EPILOGUE. The same scene, about midnight. There is no light except that of one or two candles and the turf fire. Grandfather seated at fire. William John Granahan leaning despondently on table beside which he is seated. Samuel James in his favourite seat on the top of the table. Wind, storm and rain outside. GRANDFATHER. Aye. Aye. But its no use talkin' now. Ye might ha' been a wee bit the less hasty. WILLIAM JOHN GRANAHAN. And who was goin' to thole yon conduck. It was too bad of him and after the to-do we had over him this very day. Its a sore heartscald, Robbie John, ye've been to me this day. SAMUEL JAMES. Ach, sure its over. Its full time we were in our beds. [Viciously.] You'd think he was dead and buried to hear the two of ye goin' on. Sure for all know, he may be comin' back and a great name wi' him. GRANDFATHER. That's you to the ground, ye cunnin' rascal. Keep him out at all costs. [Thunder and lightning.] D'ye hear yon? To think o' that poor sowl wi' his wee bit o' a coat out in the coul' and wet. If any harm come till him, Samuel James, know this, you were the cause o' it. SAMUEL JAMES. It was his own choosin'. GRANDFATHER.