Then the lights of Galway came in sight, and the crew
appeared as we beat up slowly to the quay.
Once on shore I had some difficulty in finding any one to carry my
baggage to the railway. When I found a man in the darkness and got
my bag on his shoulders, he turned out to be drunk, and I had
trouble to keep him from rolling from the wharf with all my
possessions. He professed to be taking me by a short cut into the
town, but when we were in the middle of a waste of broken buildings
and skeletons of ships he threw my bag on the ground and sat down on
it.
'It's real heavy she is, your honour,' he said; 'I'm thinking it's
gold there will be in it.'
'Divil a hap'worth is there in it at all but books,' I answered him
in Gaelic.
'Bedad, is mor an truaghe' ('It's a big pity'), he said; 'if it was
gold was in it it's the thundering spree we'd have together this
night in Galway.'
In about half an hour I got my luggage once more on his back, and we
made our way into the city.
Later in the evening I went down towards the quay to look for
Michael. As I turned into the narrow street where he lodges, some
one seemed to be following me in the shadow, and when I stopped to
find the number of his house I heard the 'Failte' (Welcome) of
Inishmaan pronounced close to me.
