HONOR. _pointing to straw and quilt._—Look at that. He’s been sleeping there in the night. Well, it’ll be a hard case if he’s gone off now, the way we’ll never set our eyes on a man killed his father, and we after rising early and destroying ourselves running fast on the hill. NELLY. Are you thinking them’s his boots? SARA. _taking them up._—If they are, there should be his father’s track on them. Did you never read in the papers the way murdered men do bleed and drip? SUSAN. Is that blood there, Sara Tansey? SARAH _smelling it._—That’s bog water, I’m thinking, but it’s his own they are surely, for I never seen the like of them for whity mud, and red mud, and turf on them, and the fine sands of the sea. That man’s been walking, I’m telling you. [_She goes down right, putting on one of his boots._] SUSAN _going to window._—Maybe he’s stolen off to Belmullet with the boots of Michael James, and you’d have a right so to follow after him, Sara Tansey, and you the one yoked the ass cart and drove ten miles to set your eyes on the man bit the yellow lady’s nostril on the northern shore. [_She looks out._] SARA. _running to window with one boot on._—Don’t be talking, and we fooled to-day. (_Putting on other boot._) There’s a pair do fit me well, and I’ll be keeping them for walking to the priest, when you’d be ashamed this place, going up winter and summer with nothing worth while to confess at all. HONOR. _who has been listening at the door._—Whisht! there’s someone inside the room. (_She pushes door a chink open._) It’s a man. (_Sara kicks off boots and puts them where they were. They all stand in a line looking through chink._) SARA. I’ll call him. Mister! Mister! (_He puts in his head._) Is Pegeen within? CHRISTY. _coming in as meek as a mouse, with the looking-glass held behind his back._—She’s above on the cnuceen, seeking the nanny goats, the way she’d have a sup of goat’s milk for to colour my tea. SARA. And asking your pardon, is it you’s the man killed his father? CHRISTY. _sidling toward the nail where the glass was hanging._—I am, God help me! SARA. _taking eggs she has brought._—Then my thousand welcomes to you, and I’ve run up with a brace of duck’s eggs for your food today. Pegeen’s ducks is no use, but these are the real rich sort. Hold out your hand and you’ll see it’s no lie I’m telling you. CHRISTY. _coming forward shyly, and holding out his left hand._—They’re a great and weighty size. SUSAN. And I run up with a pat of butter, for it’d be a poor thing to have you eating your spuds dry, and you after running a great way since you did destroy your da. CHRISTY. Thank you kindly. HONOR. And I brought you a little cut of cake, for you should have a thin stomach on you, and you that length walking the world. NELLY. And I brought you a little laying pullet—boiled and all she is—was crushed at the fall of night by the curate’s car. Feel the fat of that breast, Mister.