The Weans at Rowallan Part 8

"I'm Honeybird Darragh," she said.

"Darragh!" he repeated. "Ah, yes."

Honeybird's eyes wandered round the room. Cupboards with gla.s.s doors lined the walls, and the cupboards were full of china. "Can I look at them things?" she asked.

"Certainly, certainly," said Mr M'Keown.

She got off her chair, and went round the room. In one cupboard there were china ladies and gentlemen in beautiful clothes. She sighed before it. "Auch, I wisht I was a lady," she said, coming back to the fire. "Wouldn't ye like to have long hair, Mister M'Keown?"

"I am afraid it would not afford me much pleasure," he said.

Honeybird looked at him again. He was very thin, and his long back was bent. "Aren't you feared to live here all by yer lone?" she said.

"Afraid? What should I be afraid of?" he asked.

"I'm feared," she said, "an' there's me an' Fly an' Patsy an' Mick an'

Jane an' Lull an' mother--all them--an' I'm feared to death sometimes."

"What are you afraid off?" he asked.

"I'm feared a' ghosts an' Kidnappers, an' Skyan the Bugler, an' the buggy boo an' the banshee, an' when I'm a bad girl I'm awful feared a'

the divil."

"Surely that is a rare occurrence?" said Mr M'Keown.

Honeybird did not understand. "Aren't ye feared a' them things?" she asked.

"Not in the least," he replied.

"I'll hould ye ye're feared robbers'll come an' steal all yer stockin's full of gold," she said.

"My stockings full of gold!" he repeated, looking puzzled.

"Teressa sez ye've got hapes an' hapes a' them," she said.

"I am afraid they only exist in Theresa's imagination," he said. "I have not got one stocking full of gold."

Honeybird stared. "Then ye haven't got one to give away?" she faltered.

Mr M'Keown sat up in his chair, and made a crackling noise in his throat, that grew more distinct, till at last Honeybird realised that he was laughing.

"I have not laughed for ten years," he said, smiling at her.

She tried to smile back, but her eyes were full of tears.

"Did you expect me to give you a stocking full of gold?" he said.

"'Deed, I did," she said sadly. "I was tould to come an' ast ye for it."

Mr M'Keown frowned. "Ah," he said; "so it was not simplicity?"

"No; it was a hape a' money," she said.

"Perhaps you can tell me the exact sum?"

"'Deed, I can," she said; "it was just ten pounds."

"Ten pounds! What madness!" he exclaimed. "And, pray, is it to build a new chapel or to convert the Jews that you have been sent to beg such a sum?"

"It's just to make Tom Kelly better," she said, the tears running down her cheeks. "He's goin' to die, and Mrs Kelly's buried eight a' them, and Jane sez she's heart bruk, and Doctor Dixey sez ten pounds'll cure him."

Mr M'Keown coughed. "Did Doctor Dixey send you to beg for the money?"

she said.

She shook her head.

"Perhaps it was Father Ryan or Mr Rannigan?"

Again she shook her head.

"Was it your sister?"

"'Deed, it wasn't Jane, for she just hates ye; she always says ye're an ould miser, an' ye'd skin a flint."

"I am sorry that my conduct does not meet with her approval," Mr M'Keown said. "But I shall be glad if you will tell me to whom I am indebted for the honour of your visit."

Honeybird looked at him. She did not understand what he meant.

"Who sent you here?" he said.

"Almighty G.o.d tould me to come," she said.

"Almighty G.o.d?" he said. "I do not understand."

"I ast Him to let me fin' the money to cure Tom Kelly. An' I said me prayers three times for luck. An' when I was gettin' into bed the last time Almighty G.o.d just said in a wee whisper: 'Ould Mister M'Keown's the boy.'" Her disappointment was so bitter that she could not stop crying.

"Did you tell this to anyone?" Mr M'Keown asked.

"I didn't tell a sowl. I got Lull to tie on me Sunday hood, 'an' came here as quick as quick." For some time neither spoke. Mr M'Keown was walking up and down the room. Honeybird was sniffing, and wiping her eyes on her pinafore. At last Mr M'Keown came back to his chair.

"Will you tell it to me all over again?" he said.

"I'll tell ye all from the start," she said. "Jane said Tom Kelly was goin' to die, and Fly said Doctor Dixey could cure him, 'cause he took the ulsters out a' her throat. An' Doctor Dixey come, an' sez he: 'I can make him better with ten pounds,' sez he, 'an' if yous can fin' the money I'll fin' the s.h.i.+p.":

"What is the matter with this Tom?" Mr M'Keown interrupted.

"He's got consumption. An' we thought an' thought, an' Jane ast Lull to p.a.w.n our Sunday clothes. An' Lull said they weren't worth more'n a pound. An' when we went to bed I prayed like anythin', an' Almighty G.o.d tould me to come here." She got up, and held out her hand. "I may as well be sayin' good-mornin' to ye, Mister M'Keown," she said.

Mr M'Keown took her hand, but did not let it go again. "Perhaps Almighty G.o.d did not tell you to come to me," he said.