_Sergeant:_ Stop that; that's no song to be singing in these times.

_Man:_ Ah, sergeant, I was only singing to keep my heart up. It sinks when I think of him. To think of us two sitting here, and he creeping up the quay, maybe, to get to us.

_Sergeant:_ Are you keeping a good lookout?

_Man:_ I am; and for no reward too. Amn't I the foolish man? But when I saw a man in trouble, I never could help trying to get him out of it. What's that? Did something hit me?

(_Rubs his heart._)

_Sergeant:_ (_Patting him on the shoulder._) You will get your reward in heaven.

_Man:_ I know that, I know that, sergeant, but life is precious.

_Sergeant:_ Well, you can sing if it gives you more courage.

_Man:_ (_Sings_)-

Her head was bare, her hands and feet with iron bands were bound, Her pensive strain and plaintive wail mingles with the evening gale, And the song she sang with mournful air, I am old Granuaile.

Her lips so sweet that monarchs kissed....

_Sergeant:_ That's not it.... "Her gown she wore was stained with gore." ... That's it-you missed that.

_Man:_ You're right, sergeant, so it is; I missed it. (_Repeats line._) But to think of a man like you knowing a song like that.

_Sergeant:_ There's many a thing a man might know and might not have any wish for.

_Man:_ Now, I daresay, sergeant, in your youth, you used to be sitting up on a wall, the way you are sitting up on this barrel now, and the other lads beside you, and you singing "Granuaile"?...

_Sergeant:_ I did then.

_Man:_ And the "Shan Bhean Bhocht"?...

_Sergeant:_ I did then.

_Man:_ And the "Green on the Cape?"

_Sergeant:_ That was one of them.

_Man:_ And maybe the man you are watching for to-night used to be sitting on the wall, when he was young, and singing those same songs.... It's a queer world....

_Sergeant:_ Whisht!... I think I see something coming.... It's only a dog.

_Man:_ And isn't it a queer world?... Maybe it's one of the boys you used to be singing with that time you will be arresting to-day or to-morrow, and sending into the dock....

_Sergeant:_ That's true indeed.

_Man:_ And maybe one night, after you had been singing, if the other boys had told you some plan they had, some plan to free the country, you might have joined with them ... and maybe it is you might be in trouble now.

_Sergeant:_ Well, who knows but I might? I had a great spirit in those days.

_Man:_ It's a queer world, sergeant, and it's little any mother knows when she sees her child creeping on the floor what might happen to it before it has gone through its life, or who will be who in the end.

_Sergeant:_ That's a queer thought now, and a true thought. Wait now till I think it out.... If it wasn't for the sense I have, and for my wife and family, and for me joining the force the time I did, it might be myself now would be after breaking gaol and hiding in the dark, and it might be him that's hiding in the dark and that got out of gaol would be sitting up where I am on this barrel.... And it might be myself would be creeping up trying to make my escape from himself, and it might be himself would be keeping the law, and myself would be breaking it, and myself would be trying maybe to put a bullet in his head, or to take up a lump of a stone the way you said he did ... no, that myself did.... Oh! (_Gasps. After a pause._) What's that?

(_Grasps man's arm._)

_Man:_ (_Jumps off barrel and listens, looking out over water._) It's nothing, sergeant.

_Sergeant:_ I thought it might be a boat. I had a notion there might be friends of his coming about the quays with a boat.

_Man:_ Sergeant, I am thinking it was with the people you were, and not with the law you were, when you were a young man.

_Sergeant:_ Well, if I was foolish then, that time's gone.

_Man:_ Maybe, sergeant, it comes into your head sometimes, in spite of your belt and your tunic, that it might have been as well for you to have followed Granuaile.

_Sergeant:_ It's no business of yours what I think.

_Man:_ Maybe, sergeant, you'll be on the side of the country yet.

_Sergeant:_ (_Gets off barrel._) Don't talk to me like that. I have my duties and I know them. (_Looks round._) That was a boat; I hear the oars.

(_Goes to the steps and looks down._)

_Man:_ (_Sings_)-

O, then, tell me, Shawn O'Farrell, Where the gathering is to be.

In the old spot by the river Right well known to you and me!

_Sergeant:_ Stop that! Stop that, I tell you!

_Man:_ (_Sings louder_)-

One word more, for signal token, Whistle up the marching tune, With your pike upon your shoulder, At the Rising of the Moon.

_Sergeant:_ If you don't stop that, I'll arrest you.

(_A whistle from below answers, repeating the air._)

_Sergeant:_ That's a signal. (_Stands between him and steps._) You must not pa.s.s this way.... Step farther back.... Who are you? You are no ballad-singer.

_Man:_ You needn't ask who I am; that placard will tell you. (_Points to placard._)

_Sergeant:_ You are the man I am looking for.

_Man:_ (_Takes off hat and wig. Sergeant seizes them._) I am. There's a hundred pounds on my head. There is a friend of mine below in a boat. He knows a safe place to bring me to.

_Sergeant:_ (_Looking still at hat and wig._) It's a pity! It's a pity. You deceived me. You deceived me well.