's lying down, God help her, and maybe sleeping, if
she's able.

(NORA _comes in softly, and takes a bundle from under her shawl._)

CATHLEEN (_spinning the wheel rapidly_). What is it you have?

NOBA. The young priest is after bringing them. It's a shirt and a
plain stocking were got off a drowned man in Donegal.

(CATHLEEN _stops her wheel with a sudden movement, and leans out
to listen._)

NORA. We're to find out if it's Michael's they are; some time
herself will be down looking by the sea.

CATHLEEN. How would they be Michael's, Nora? How would he go the
length of that way to the far north?

NORA. The young priest says he's known the like of it. "If it's
Michael's they are," says he, "you can tell herself he's got a
clean burial by the grace of God, and if they're not his, let no
one say a word about them, for she'll be getting her death," says
he, "with crying and lamenting."

(_The door which_ NORA _half closed is blown open by a gust of
wind._)

CATHLEEN (_looking out anxiously_). Did you ask him would he stop
Bartley going this day with the horses to the Galway fair?

NORA. "I won't stop him," says he, "but let you not be afraid.
Herself does be saying prayers half through the night, and the
Almighty God won't leave her destitute," says he, "with no son
living."

CATHLEEN. Is the sea bad by the white rocks, Nora?

NORA. Middling bad, God help us. There's a great roaring in the
west, and it's worse it'll be getting when the tide's turned to
the wind.

(_She goes over to the table with the bundle._)

Shall I open it now?

CATHLEEN. Maybe she'd wake up on us, and come in before we'd
done. (_Coming to the table_) It's a long time we'll be, and the
two of us crying.

NORA (_goes to the inner door and listens_). She's moving about on
the bed. She'll be coming in a minute.

CATHLEEN. Give me the ladder, and I'll put them up in the
turf-loft, the way she won't know of them at all, and maybe when
the tide turns she'll be going down to see would he be floating
from the east.

(_They put the ladder against the gable of the chimney_; CATHLEEN
_goes up a few steps and hides the bundle in the turf-loft. MAURYA
comes from the inner room._)

MAURYA (_looking up at CATHLEEN and speaking querulously_). Isn't
it turf enough you have for this day and evening?

CATHLEEN. There's a cake baking at the fire for a short space
(_throwing down the turf_) and Bartley will want it when the tide
turns if he goes