drink,” the landlord said. “I will stand it. It is not often I take to a man. We got meat pies in the kitchen. Prime beef. You,” he said to the seated man, ‘y hold your gab or you will go out on your arse.”
The place was more crowded now. The woman called Bessie had gone off to join some others round the table. Billy allowed himself to be pacified. He had more rum and a plateful of pies. He was having some difficulty now in seeing clear across the room and was tending increasingly to reduce the range of his focus. Standing up close against him, Eve gave him a gentle squeeze of his balls.
“Full o” grape-shot, them,” Billy said boastfully, through a mouthful of meat pie.
‘England’s finest.” He had taken a definite fancy to Eve, with her blue eyes and delicate pallor of underfeeding. “Some bastid been cloutin” you?”’ he said, looking at the disfiguring bruise on her cheek.
She laughed on the same high, careless note.
‘I was runnin” round in circles an’ I bumped into meself.”
‘Have you somewhere we can gan together, just the two of us?”’
“I have got a love-nest all me own, darlin” Billy. But let’s have a dance first, let’s have a bit of fun for God’s sake, we might all be dead tomorrer, Jemmy, mightn’t we?”’
This had been addressed to the landlord who agreed with every appearance of fervour. ‘Where the devil is the fiddler?”’ he said. “Where is Sullivan?”’
The cry was taken up by others—several people wanted to dance, it seemed. The fiddler was found in a dark corner, sleeping with his head on the table.
Roused, he came shambling out into the centre of the room, clutching fiddle and bow, a tall, ragged figure with glinting stubble on his cheeks, a dark shock of hair and dazed green eyes that seemed lately to have looked on wonders and to be glancing after them still.
“Give us a reel!” somebody shouted.
Til not play without a drink,” Sullivan said. ‘niver a note.”
“Give him a drink.”
“I seen you before,” Billy said. He steadied himself against the counter, took a careful pace forward and looked closely at the long face and beautiful, bemused eyes of the fiddler. “We was on shipboard together somewhere,” he said. “Michael Sullivan.
Always arguin”.” He paused for a moment, swaying slightly. Then he had it: ‘The Sarah, Captain McTavish, ‘bout five, six years ago, cargo of hides fra Montevideo. Am I right or am I wrong?”’
Sullivan paused a long moment as though gathering his wits. “I was on that ship,” he said at last.
“I will not say that I wasn’t. It was you done all the arguin”, not me. McTavish was for iver blasphemin’.”
‘Dead now. He overdone it on the bottle.”
Feet planted for balance, Billy looked proudly about him. “By God,” he said, “there canna be many that has a memory like Billy Blair. Drunk or sober, Blair is razor sharp. You remember me? Come now, you canna have forgot Billy Blair?”’
“I do an” I don’t,” the fiddler said.
Some change had come over his face. ‘Listen, Billy,” he said, “you don’t want to be dancin”, “tis a idle pursuit an” the Pope has frequently spoke out agin it as leadin’ to all manner of sins.”
‘What’s wrong wi” you?”’ Billy screwed up his eyes in order to see the fiddler’s face better. ‘Why you switchin” yor lamps about?”’
‘Stir yourself, Sullivan, give us a reel,” the landlord said. “What do you mean by talking?”’
“He needs another drink,” Billy said.
“Once a shipmate always a shipmate, wi”
Billy Blair. Gie us yor hand, man. Have you follered the sea since?”’
‘I follered the divil. Listen -“
But then Eve was standing close again and there were two men between Billy and Sullivan, one of them he of the ragged cloak. “Stow your gab,” this man said roughly to the fiddler.
“Come on, Sullivan darlin”, give us a reel,” Eve said.
After that events became confused in
The place was more crowded now. The woman called Bessie had gone off to join some others round the table. Billy allowed himself to be pacified. He had more rum and a plateful of pies. He was having some difficulty now in seeing clear across the room and was tending increasingly to reduce the range of his focus. Standing up close against him, Eve gave him a gentle squeeze of his balls.
“Full o” grape-shot, them,” Billy said boastfully, through a mouthful of meat pie.
‘England’s finest.” He had taken a definite fancy to Eve, with her blue eyes and delicate pallor of underfeeding. “Some bastid been cloutin” you?”’ he said, looking at the disfiguring bruise on her cheek.
She laughed on the same high, careless note.
‘I was runnin” round in circles an’ I bumped into meself.”
‘Have you somewhere we can gan together, just the two of us?”’
“I have got a love-nest all me own, darlin” Billy. But let’s have a dance first, let’s have a bit of fun for God’s sake, we might all be dead tomorrer, Jemmy, mightn’t we?”’
This had been addressed to the landlord who agreed with every appearance of fervour. ‘Where the devil is the fiddler?”’ he said. “Where is Sullivan?”’
The cry was taken up by others—several people wanted to dance, it seemed. The fiddler was found in a dark corner, sleeping with his head on the table.
Roused, he came shambling out into the centre of the room, clutching fiddle and bow, a tall, ragged figure with glinting stubble on his cheeks, a dark shock of hair and dazed green eyes that seemed lately to have looked on wonders and to be glancing after them still.
“Give us a reel!” somebody shouted.
Til not play without a drink,” Sullivan said. ‘niver a note.”
“Give him a drink.”
“I seen you before,” Billy said. He steadied himself against the counter, took a careful pace forward and looked closely at the long face and beautiful, bemused eyes of the fiddler. “We was on shipboard together somewhere,” he said. “Michael Sullivan.
Always arguin”.” He paused for a moment, swaying slightly. Then he had it: ‘The Sarah, Captain McTavish, ‘bout five, six years ago, cargo of hides fra Montevideo. Am I right or am I wrong?”’
Sullivan paused a long moment as though gathering his wits. “I was on that ship,” he said at last.
“I will not say that I wasn’t. It was you done all the arguin”, not me. McTavish was for iver blasphemin’.”
‘Dead now. He overdone it on the bottle.”
Feet planted for balance, Billy looked proudly about him. “By God,” he said, “there canna be many that has a memory like Billy Blair. Drunk or sober, Blair is razor sharp. You remember me? Come now, you canna have forgot Billy Blair?”’
“I do an” I don’t,” the fiddler said.
Some change had come over his face. ‘Listen, Billy,” he said, “you don’t want to be dancin”, “tis a idle pursuit an” the Pope has frequently spoke out agin it as leadin’ to all manner of sins.”
‘What’s wrong wi” you?”’ Billy screwed up his eyes in order to see the fiddler’s face better. ‘Why you switchin” yor lamps about?”’
‘Stir yourself, Sullivan, give us a reel,” the landlord said. “What do you mean by talking?”’
“He needs another drink,” Billy said.
“Once a shipmate always a shipmate, wi”
Billy Blair. Gie us yor hand, man. Have you follered the sea since?”’
‘I follered the divil. Listen -“
But then Eve was standing close again and there were two men between Billy and Sullivan, one of them he of the ragged cloak. “Stow your gab,” this man said roughly to the fiddler.
“Come on, Sullivan darlin”, give us a reel,” Eve said.
After that events became confused in
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