ing, and the house in an
uproar.

TAYLOR.

Aye? He left it here then?

MRS. GRANAHAN.

No, wait till I tell ye. I packed him out o' this, and the next thing
I heerd about him was when a wheen o' weeks ago he was got half dead
wi' wet and could in the Flough Moss. John McKillop was down for
cutting turf, and foun' him in a peat hole, wi' his hands on the brew,
and the ould fiddle beside him.

ELLEN.

Yes. The poor soul died the next day, and just before he died he asked
McKillop to bring over his fiddle to give to Robbie John. Robbie had
been kind to him sometime or other, and the poor bein' never forgot
it.

TAYLOR.

Ach aye. I do remember hearin' somethin' about it. They said he had
been a big man in his day I think.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Aye. He was blatherin the day he was here about bein' the leader of an
ould band or somethin' like, now that I call to mind. But indeed I
paid no heed till him, for he was part drunk.

TAYLOR.

[Curiously.]

You didn't get Robbie to burn this one I see.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Well you see, Samuel James said it was a very valuable one and worth
fifty poun' or more may be. There's an inscription on it somewhere if
you look.

TAYLOR.

[Taking down fiddle and examining it.]

Aye so I see. "To Nicholas Werner as a token of esteem from his
orchestra. Vienna, 1878."

ELLEN.

Yes poor soul. He was tellin' the truth and no one believin'.

TAYLOR.

And does Robbie never play it?

ELLEN.

Not since he promised that I know of. But all the same it must tempt
him for I see his eyes fixed on it often enough when he thinks no
one's lookin'.

TAYLOR.

[He looks over at Mrs. Granahan who
appears to be engrossed in her
writing. He is just slipping his
arm round Ellen when Mrs. Granahan
looks up. He instantly drops his
arm.]

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Ha'e you that stamp Mr. Taylor?

TAYLOR.

Its usual Mrs. Granahan for whoever signs the receipt to supply the
stamp, however, there you are.

[Mrs. Granahan licks the stamp, and signs
the receipt.]

The writin' doesn't come easy to you, ma'am.

MRS. GRANAHAN.

Now