No Defense | Page 5

to the door of his house, which was little
more than a cave in a sudden lift of the hill. He swayed as he walked,
but by the time they reached his cave-house he was alert again.
The house had two windows, one on either side of the unlocked
doorway; and when the old man slowly swung the door open, there was
shown an interior of humble character, but neat and well-ordered. The
floor was earth, dry and clean. There was a bed to the right, also
wholesome and dry, with horse-blankets for cover. At the back,
opposite the doorway, was a fireplace of some size, and in it stood a
kettle, a pot, and a few small pans, together with a covered saucepan.
On either side of the fireplace was a three-legged stool, and about the
middle of the left-hand wall of the room was a chair which had been
made out of a barrel, some of the staves having been sawn away to
make a seat.
Once inside the house, Christopher Dogan laid his bag on the bed and
waved his hands in a formula of welcome.
"Well, I'm honoured," he said, "for no one has set foot inside this place
that I'd rather have here than the two of ye; and it's wonderful to me,
Mr. Calhoun, that ye've never been inside it before, because there's
been times when I've had food and drink in plenty. I could have made
ye comfortable then and stroked ye all down yer gullet. As for you,
Miss Llyn, you're as welcome as the shining of the stars of a night
when there's no moon. I'm glad you're here, though I've nothing to give
ye, not a bite nor sup. Ah, yes--but yes," he suddenly cried, touching
his head. "Faith, then, I have! I have a drap of somethin' that's as good
as annything dhrunk by the ancient kings of Ireland. It's a wee cordial
that come from the cellars of the Bishop of Dunlany, when I cured his
cook of the evil-stone that was killing her. Ah, thank God!"
He went into a corner on the left of the fireplace, opened an old jar,

thrust his arm down, and drew out a squat little bottle of cordial. The
bottle was beautifully made. It was round and hunched, and of glass,
with an old label from which the writing had faded.
With eyes bright now, Christopher uncorked the bottle and smelled the
contents. As he did so, a smile crinkled his face.
"Thank the Lord! There's enough for the two of ye--two fine
tablespoonfuls of the cordial that'd do anny man good, no matter how
bad he was, and turn an angel of a woman into an archangel. Bless yer
Bowl!"
When Christopher turned to lift down two pewter pots, Calhoun
reached up swiftly and took them from the shelf. He placed them in the
hands of the old man, who drew a clean towel of coarse linen from a
small cupboard in the wall above his head.
She and Dyck held the pots for the old man to pour the cordial into
them. As he said, there was only a good porridge-spoon of liqueur for
each. He divided it with anxious care.
"There's manny a man," he said, "and manny and manny a lady, too,
born in the purple, that'd be glad of a dhrink of this cordial from the
cellar of the bishop.
"Alpha, beta, gamma, delta is the code, and with the word delta," he
continued, "dhrink every drop of it, as if it was the last thing you were
dhrinking on earth; as if the Lord stooped down to give ye a cup of
blessing from His great flagon of eternal happiness. Ye've got two kind
hearts, but there's manny a day of throuble will come between ye and
the end; and yet the end'll be right, God love ye! Now-alpha, beta,
gamma, delta!"
With a merry laugh Dyck Calhoun turned up his cup and drained the
liquid to the last drop. With a laugh not quite so merry, Sheila raised
her mug and slowly drained the green happiness away.
"Isn't it good--isn't it like the love of God?" asked the old man. "Ain't I

glad I had it for ye? Why I said I hadn't annything for ye to dhrink or
eat, Lord only knows. There's nothing to eat, and there's only this to
dhrink, and I hide it away under the bedclothes of time, as one might
say. Ah, ye know, it's been there for three years, and I'd almost forgot it.
It was a little angel from heaven whispered it to me whir ye stepped
inside this house. I dunno why I kep' the stuff. Manny's the time I was
tempted to dhrink it myself, and