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a bit of an odd duck, as they say, is our Seamus,” she said, adding milk and sugar to the tea. She handed David and John their tea mugs. “Sit, sit,” she said, motioning to the dinette chairs tucked under the table. “Are you heading somewhere today or just visiting the neighbors?”
    David sat down next to Sarah and gave her arm a squeeze.
    “Well,” he said, “we were just exploring, really, any place we can get to and back before dark.”
     “If I can talk you into staying, we’d be proud to share our tea with you. It’s not much, but it’s a nice plump chicken and will stretch to five if one of you holds back.” She winked at John and he grinned back.  
    Sarah was inclined to say no in order to save the old couple’s dinner for them, but the eagerness in John’s face combined with her own yearning for company changed her mind.
    “If you’re sure it’s no trouble,” she said. “That’d be wonderful. Fresh meat would be a welcome and the company even more so. Thank you.”
    Dierdre’s beaming smile confirmed to Sarah that her reply was the right one, and not just for John’s sake.
     
     
    “Stop acting the maggot,” Finn snarled, ratcheting the rope tighter around the younger man’s wrist. “We’re having a little chat, ya gobshites, so put down your jars.” He strutted to the center of the group gathered around a small cook fire and dragged the younger man behind him. Eight other men sat or stood around the small fire smoking and drinking beer. They looked apprehensive at their leader’s entrance.
    “Anybody see young Billy, here, eat me tea while I was to town?” Finn gave the rope a jerk and could almost feel the poor sod trembling at the other end. The men around the campfire were unshaven and their clothes virtually rags. One seated man had a squirming puppy in his lap. All of them either shook their heads or mumbled negative responses.
    Finn knew the boy hadn’t eaten his dinner. The boy—his name was Billy—was a teenager and clearly scared out of his mind. Finn thought Billy might be a cousin although he wasn’t sure and didn’t care. The little rotter was blubbering now.
    “No one saw this gobshite eat my tea?” Finn said, raising his voice. The fear in their faces pleased him.
     “I seen ‘im, Mack,” one man said.
     “Okay, Brandon. Thank you. Finally. Someone who tells me the truth.” Finn of course knew it was a lie.
    Finn jerked the rope off the now openly weeping boy and pushed him toward the group. “I can be merciful, Billy,” he said loudly, and tossed the rope into the fire. “Remember that. And don’t eat me tea no more.”
    Billy wiped his tearstained face with both hands and nodded. He mumbled a thank-you. 
    As Finn turned to leave the group, he stopped abruptly in front of the man with the puppy and scooped the dog up in his arms. Startled, the man jumped to his feet.
    “Oy, Mack…” he said, looking nervously at his dog in Finn’s arms.
    Without looking away, Finn deftly wrung the puppy’s neck and tossed it back to the gypsy. “Did you say something, Gerry?”
    All the men jumped up.
    “Remember, lads,” Finn shouted. He was looking at their stunned faces. He grinned and mimicked Brandon’s pointing gesture when he had fingered Billy. “I can be un forgiving, too.”
    He put his hand on the shoulder of the man now holding the dead dog. “No money for luxuries, me boyo,” Finn said almost kindly, then turned on his heel and left.
     
     
    Sarah, David and John left Seamus and Dierdre’s in early evening while there was still plenty of light left but even so, Sarah could see that John was tired and sagging a bit in his saddle. She watched his pony step knowingly in the deepening shadows of the trail back to the house and she was grateful for the animal’s steady temperament. Dierdre had given them two dozen fresh hen’s eggs and two jars of berry jam. David stashed them in his saddlebags as if they were the finest caviar. The visit