MRS. TULLY. And what have you to say now, Bartley Fallon?
BARTLEY (_crossing himself_). I to bring that fork here, and to
find that news before me! It is much if I can ever stir from this
place at all, or reach as far as the road!
TIM CASEY. Look, boys, at the new magistrate, and Jo Muldoon
along with him! It's best for us to quit this.
SHAWN EARLY. That is so. It is best not to be mixed in this
business at all.
JAMES RYAN. Bad as he is, I wouldn't like to be an informer
against any man.
(_All hurry away except_ MRS. TARPEY, _who remains behind her stall.
Enter_ MAGISTRATE _and_ POLICEMAN.)
MAGISTRATE. I knew the district was in a bad state, but I did not
expect to be confronted with a murder at the first fair I came
to.
POLICEMAN. I am sure you did not, indeed.
MAGISTRATE. It was well I had not gone home. I caught a few words
here and there that roused my suspicions.
POLICEMAN. So they would, too.
MAGISTRATE. You heard the same story from everyone you asked?
POLICEMAN. The same story--or if it was not altogether the same,
anyway it was no less than the first story.
MAGISTRATE. What is that man doing? He is sitting alone with a
hayfork. He has a guilty look. The murder was done with a
hayfork!
POLICEMAN (_in a whisper_). That's the very man they say did the
act, Bartley Fallon himself!
MAGISTRATE. He must have found escape difficult--he is trying to
brazen it out. A convict in the Andaman Islands tried the same
game, but he could not escape my system! Stand aside--Don't go
far--Have the handcuffs ready. (_He walks up to BARTLEY, folds his
arms, and stands before him._) Here, my man, do you know anything
of John Smith?
BARTLEY. Of John Smith! Who is he, now?
POLICEMAN. Jack Smith, sir--Red Jack Smith!
MAGISTRATE (_coming a step nearer and tapping him on the
shoulder_). Where is Jack Smith?
BARTLEY (_with a deep sigh, and shaking his head slowly_). Where is
he, indeed?
MAGISTRATE. What have you to tell?
BARTLEY. It is where he was this morning, standing in this spot,
singing his share of songs--no, but lighting his pipe--scraping a
match on the sole of his shoe--
MAGISTRATE. I ask you, for the third time, where is he?
BARTLEY. I wouldn't like to say that. It is a great mystery, and
it is hard to say of any man, did he earn hatred or love.
MAGISTRATE. Tell me all you know.
BARTLEY. All that I know--Well, there are the three estates;
there is Limbo, and there is Purgatory, and there is--
MAGISTRATE. Nonsense! This is trifling! Get to the point.
BARTLEY. Maybe you don't hold with the clergy so? That is the
teaching of the clergy. Maybe you hold with the old people. It is
what they do be saying, that the shadow goes wandering, and the
soul is tired, and the body is taking a rest--The shadow! (_Starts
up._) I was nearly sure I saw Jack Smith not ten minutes ago at
the corner of the forge, and I lost him again--Was it his ghost I
saw, do you think?
MAGISTRATE (_to_ POLICEMAN). Conscience-struck! He will confess all
now!
BARTLEY. His ghost to come before me! It is likely it was on
account of the fork! I to have it and he to have no way to defend
himself the time he met with his death!
MAGISTRATE (_to_ POLICEMAN). I must note down his words. (_Takes out
notebook. To_ BARTLEY) I warn you that your words are being noted.
BARTLEY. If I had ha' run faster in the beginning, this terror
would not be on me at the latter end! Maybe he will cast it up
against me at the day of judgment--I wouldn't wonder at all at
that.