Part 11 (1/2)

_Charlie Ward._ We must leave you here. The monks will take you in.

We're very sorry, Paul. It's a heartscald to us to leave you and you know that, but what can we do? [_They lead_ PAUL RUTTLEDGE _to steps._

_Paul Ruttledge._ Ah! that was a bad st.i.tch! [_Gasps._] Take care now; put me down gently.

_Sabina Silver._ Oh! can't we keep him with us anyway; he'll find no one to care him as well as myself.

_Tommy the Song._ What way can you care him, Sibby? It's no way to have him lying out on the roadside under guano bags, like ourselves, and the rain coming down on him like it did last night. It's in hospital he'll be for the next month.

_Charlie Ward._ We'd never leave you if you could even walk. If we have to give you to the monks itself, we'd keep round the place to encourage you, only for the last business. We'll have to put two counties at least between us and Gortmore after what we're after doing.

_Paul Ruttledge._ Never mind, boys, they'll never insult a tinker again in Gortmore as long as the town's a town.

_Charlie Ward._ Dear knows! it breaks my heart to think of the fine times we had of it since you joined us. Why the months seemed like days.

And all the fine sprees we had together! Now you're gone from us we might as well be jailed at once.

_Paddy c.o.c.kfight._ And how you took to the c.o.c.ks! I believe you were a better judge than myself. No one but you would ever have fancied that black-winged c.o.c.k--and he never met his match.

_Paul Ruttledge._ Ah! well, I'm doubled up now like that old c.o.c.k of Andy Farrell's.

_Paddy c.o.c.kfight._ No, but you were the best warrant to set a snare that ever I came across.

_Paul Ruttledge._ [_Sitting down with difficulty on the steps._] Yes; it was a grand time we had, and I wouldn't take back a day of it; but it's over now, I've hit my ribs against the earth and they're aching.

_Sabina Silver._ Oh! Paul, Paul, is it to leave you we must? And you never once struck a kick or a blow on me all this time, not even and you in pain with the rheumatism. [_A clock strikes inside._

_Charlie Ward._ There's the clock striking. The monks will be getting up. We'd best be off after the others. I hear some noise inside; they'd best not catch us here. I'll stop and pull the bell. Be off with you, boys!

_Paul Ruttledge._ Good-bye, Sabina. Don't cry! you'll get another husband.

_Sabina Silver._ I'll never lep the budget with another man; I swear it.

_Paul Ruttledge._ Good-bye, Paddy. Good-bye, Tommy. My mother Earth will have none of me and I will go look for my father that is in heaven.

_Paddy c.o.c.kfight._ Come along, Sibby.

[_Takes her hand and hurries off._

_Charlie Ward._ [_Rings bell._] Are they sure to let you in, Paul? Have you got your story ready?

_Paul Ruttledge._ No fear, they won't refuse a sick man. No one knows me but Father Jerome, and he won't tell on me.

_Charlie Ward._ There's a step inside. I'll cut for it.

[_He goes out. Paul is left sitting on steps._

Scene 2.--_The crypt under the Monastery church. A small barred window high up in the wall, through which the cold dawn is breaking. Altar in a niche at the back of stage; there are seven unlighted candles on the altar. A little hanging lamp near the altar._ PAUL RUTTLEDGE _is lying on the altar steps. Friars are dancing slowly before him in the dim light_. FATHER ALOYSIUS _is leaning against a pillar_.

_Some_ Friars _come in carrying lanterns_.