The Well of the Saints | Page 5

-- You're always hearing
queer wonderful things, and the lot of them nothing at all; but I'm
thinking, this time, it's a strange thing surely you'd be walking up
before the turn of day, and not waiting below to look on them lepping,
or dancing, or playing shows on the green of Clash.
TIMMY -- [huffed.] -- I was coming to tell you it's in this place there'd
be a bigger wonder done in a short while (Martin Doul stops working)
than was ever done on the green of Clash, or the width of Leinster itself;
but you're thinking, maybe, you're too cute a little fellow to be minding
me at all.
MARTIN DOUL -- [amused, but incredulous.] -- There'll be wonders
in this place, is it?
TIMMY. Here at the crossing of the roads.
MARTIN DOUL. I never heard tell of anything to happen in this place
since the night they killed the old fellow going home with his gold, the
Lord have mercy on him, and threw down his corpse into the bog. Let
them not be doing the like of that this night, for it's ourselves have a
right to the crossing roads, and we don't want any of your bad tricks, or
your wonders either, for it's wonder enough we are ourselves.
TIMMY. If I'd a mind I'd be telling you of a real wonder this day, and
the way you'll be having a great joy, maybe, you're not thinking on at
all.
MARTIN DOUL -- [interested.] -- Are they putting up a still behind in
the rocks? It'd be a grand thing if I'd sup handy the way I wouldn't be
destroying myself groping up across the bogs in the rain falling.
TIMMY -- [still moodily.] -- It's not a still they're bringing, or the like
of it either.
MARY DOUL -- [persuasively, to Timmy.] -- Maybe they're hanging a
thief, above at the bit of a tree. I'm told it's a great sight to see a man
hanging by his neck; but what joy would that be to ourselves, and we

not seeing it at all?
TIMMY -- [more pleasantly.] -- They're hanging no one this day, Mary
Doul, and yet, with the help of God, you'll see a power hanged before
you die.
MARY DOUL. Well you've queer hum-bugging talk. . . . What way
would I see a power hanged, and I a dark woman since the seventh year
of my age?
TIMMY. Did ever you hear tell of a place across a bit of the sea, where
there is an island, and the grave of the four beautiful saints?
MARY DOUL. I've heard people have walked round from the west and
they speaking of that.
TIMMY -- [impressively.] -- There's a green ferny well, I'm told,
behind of that place, and if you put a drop of the water out of it on the
eyes of a blind man, you'll make him see as well as any person is
walking the world.
MARTIN DOUL -- [with excitement.] -- Is that the truth, Timmy? I'm
thinking you're telling a lie.
TIMMY -- [gruffly.] -- That's the truth, Martin Doul, and you may
believe it now, for you're after believing a power of things weren't as
likely at all.
MARY DOUL. Maybe we could send us a young lad to bring us the
water. I could wash a naggin bottle in the morning, and I'm thinking
Patch Ruadh would go for it, if we gave him a good drink, and the bit
of money we have hid in the thatch.
TIMMY. It'd be no good to be sending a sinful man the like of
ourselves, for I'm told the holiness of the water does be getting soiled
with the villainy of your heart, the time you'd be carrying it, and you
looking round on the girls, maybe, or drinking a small sup at a still.
MARTIN DOUL -- [with disappointment.] -- It'd be a long terrible way
to be walking ourselves, and I'm thinking that's a wonder will bring
small joy to us at all.
TIMMY -- [turning on him impatiently.] -- What is it you want with
your walking? It's as deaf as blind you're growing if you're not after
hearing me say it's in this place the wonder would be done.
MARTIN DOUL -- [with a flash of anger.] -- If it is can't you open the
big slobbering mouth you have and say what way it'll be done, and not
be making blather till the fall of night.

TIMMY -- [jumping up.] -- I'll be going on now (Mary Doul rises), and
not wasting time talking civil talk with the like of you.
MARY DOUL -- [standing up, disguising her impatience.] -- Let you
come here to me, Timmy, and not be