(to Terence) I fancy I've frightened someone this time, sir.

Who is it?

It's Blind Murphy.

Oh, it's frightened to death he's been! (kneeling by him)

Oh, and I helped to do it!

No, no; he has only fainted.

A success at last, sir, eh?

No, Mr. Bunn - a failure. The idea was that he should run off and tell the soldiers, and frighten them away; and instead of that he has fallen in a faint. Another failure, Mr. Bunn, and I think the last one.

Oh, never say die, sir!

No, I'll leave it to the Lord Lieutenant to say that.

We'll have one more trial, sir.

Yes, and we will all be tried together. Listen, Mr. Bunn, if you try to save your own skin by playing a double game, I shall put a bullet through your brain, or at any rate through your head. I think it is perhaps a kindness to let you know this.

Thank you, sir. You've quite taken a fancy to me! (exit into cave)

Did the lady frighten you with her singing, Pat?

Molly! Is it really you, Molly?

Who else would it be?

I thought I saw -

If ye thought ye saw anything, it's dreaming ye must have been, bein' blind, poor boy.

Yes, bein' blind.

(to Murphy) You are accused of having come here as a spy.

It's hangin' is too good for him, but it's all we have to offer. (Preparing a rope.)

He must be tried first and sentenced afterwards.

The other way's safest with spies. But have it your own way.

Who will stand as the prisoner's friend?

It's no friend he has among us, to stand or lie for him.

That's where ye're wrong. It's a strange thing that the only man among ye should be a girl! I'll stand as his friend, your honour - it's what I'd do for anyone.

You can question the prisoner. The cross-questions will come after.

It's not cross mine will be at all. I'm just doing this out of kindness - ye understand that, your honour?

Yes, I understand. Go on.

(to Murphy) Now, Blind Murphy, ye are charged with bein' a traitor. Are ye a traitor?

I am not.

That's every bit good enough for me. (to Terence) Will ye be wantin' to hear any more evidence, your honour?

Yes; he is accused of writing an anonymous letter to the Lord Lieutenant warning him of our society.

The Lord Lieutenant we overheard readin' an anonymous letter - did ye write it?

I never put my name to such a document in my life.

(triumphantly) Hear that now!

He is accused of coming here as a spy.

A spy! (to Murphy) How could ye be spyin' if ye were blind? Tell me that.

I could not.

There's some sense in that.

There's no sense in it, ye mane. A blind man can't be a spy - that's proved - and it's one more question will close the case. Haven't ye been blind since ye were a gossoon that little? Speak, Pat dear - ye've only got to say it on your oath, and the case is concluded. It's the aisiest thing in life; askin' the question at all is like puttin' a frill on a ham-bone - it's not a necessity, but makes a finish. Come now, haven't ye been blind since ye were a gossoon?

No, I've never been blind at all. It's a lyin' thief that I've been - I've never been blind. I never had the heart to tell ye, seein' that ye pitied me - and pity's near akin to love, they say - though it's a mighty poor relation. I've never been blind - I wish I had before I saw ye look like that, Molly!

Ye've never been blind - and me holdin' your hand, and peelin' your praties - and pretendin' it was the fairies!

Wouldn't such be a spy?

Yes. (to Molly) Have you anything more to say?

Yes - no.

He has spoken the truth now.

They say that will shame the divil. I know it has shamed me.

He is banished. (to Murphy) You have been able to see all these people when they didn't know it -- if they know it, you shall never see them again.

Have you stayed to say good-bye, Molly?

It's not sure I am that I have.

Then it's only the cold stones of my native town that I'll be sayin' it to.