The
room was full of Spanish and Irish sailors who had just smuggled a
cargo of wine and ale, and were waiting a favourable wind to set out
again. A Spaniard offered him a drink in bad Gaelic. He drank it
greedily and began talking wildly and rapidly.
For some three weeks the wind blew inshore or with too great
violence, and the sailors stayed drinking and talking and playing
cards, and Costello stayed with them, sleeping upon a bench in the
shebeen, and drinking and talking and playing more than any. He soon
lost what little money he had, and then his horse, which some one had
brought from the mountain boreen, to a Spaniard, who sold it to a
farmer from the mountains, and then his long cloak and his spurs and
his boots of soft leather. At last a gentle wind blew towards Spain,
and the crew rowed out to their schooner, singing Gaelic and Spanish
songs, and lifted the anchor, and in a little while the white sails
had dropped under the horizon. Then Costello turned homeward, his
life gaping before him, and walked all day, coming in the early
evening to the road that went from near Lough Gara to the southern
edge of Lough Cay. Here he overtook a great crowd of peasants and
farmers, who were walking very slowly after two priests and a group
of well-dressed persons, certain of whom were carrying a coffin.
Pages:
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88