“Thank you Caillagh-Ny-Ghueshag.”
“Very well. Now you must go if you are to catch the tide at Douglas Town, yes?”
“Yes.”
Outside the door, he picked up his lantern where he had left it. He turned to face the darkness, then turned back. “May I ask you a question?”
“Another favour, John Quirk? Well now. Let me see. You were wondering why I live where I do?”
“Aye.” He spoke quietly now, almost in a whisper. “I came to a rolling once. I was young. I saw the spiked barrel they put her in, a woman little older than me. I heard her screams, her pleading. I heard the cries stop part way down. I saw what was left of her at the bottom. I saw the lake where they drown those that survive, the place where they bury those that don"t. Why … why would you live here, here of all places on the isl
