hat man
should be a great terror when his temper's roused.

MICHAEL. He should then. (To Christy.) And where was it, mister honey,
that you did the deed?

CHRISTY -- [looking at him with suspicion.] -- Oh, a distant place,
master of the house, a windy corner of high, distant hills.

PHILLY -- [nodding with approval.] -- He's a close man, and he's right,
surely.

PEGEEN. That'd be a lad with the sense of Solomon to have for a pot-boy,
Michael James, if it's the truth you're seeking one at all.

PHILLY. The peelers is fearing him, and if you'd that lad in the house
there isn't one of them would come smelling around if the dogs itself
were lapping poteen from the dungpit of the yard.

JIMMY. Bravery's a treasure in a lonesome place, and a lad would kill
his father, I'm thinking, would face a foxy divil with a pitchpike on
the flags of hell.

PEGEEN. It's the truth they're saying, and if I'd that lad in the house,
I wouldn't be fearing the loosed kharki cut-throats, or the walking
dead.

CHRISTY -- [swelling with surprise and triumph.] -- Well, glory be to
God!

MICHAEL -- [with deference.] -- Would you think well to stop here and be
pot-boy, mister honey, if we gave you good wages, and didn't destroy you
with the weight of work?

SHAWN -- [coming forward uneasily.] -- That'd be a queer kind to bring
into a decent quiet household with the like of Pegeen Mike.

PEGEEN -- [very sharply.] -- Will you whisht? Who's speaking to you?

SHAWN -- [retreating.] A bloody-handed murderer the like of...

PEGEEN -- [snapping at him.] -- Whisht I am saying; we'll take no
fooling from your like at all. (To Christy with a honeyed voice.) And
you, young fellow, you'd have a right to stop, I'm thinking, for we'd do
our all and utmost to content your needs.

CHRISTY -- [overcome with wonder.] -- And I'd be safe in this place from
the searching law?

MICHAEL. You would, surely. If they're not fearing you, itself, the
peelers in this place is decent droughty poor fellows, wouldn't touch a
cur dog and not give warning in the dead of night.

PEGEEN -- [very kindly and persuasively.] -- Let you stop a short
while anyhow. Aren't you destroyed walking with your feet in bleeding
blisters, and your whole skin needing washing like a Wicklow sheep.

CHRISTY -- [looking round with satisfaction.] It's a nice room, and if
it's not humbugging me you are, I'm thinking that I'll surely stay.

JIMMY -- [jumps up.] -- Now, by the grace of