The Drawing of the Dark

He nodded. 'He was going blind three years ago.'

Anna glanced at him. 'I remember now,' she said. 'You were sweet on her, weren't you? That's right, and then she married Hallstadt and you took off to Hungary, after shouting a lot of rude things at the wedding. Everybody knew why you went.'

'Everybody's an idiot,' the Irishman said, annoyed.

'No doubt. Here, you finish my beer. I've got to get back to work.'

The room had been swept before the lights were snuffed out, but mice darted across the old wood floors in the darkness, finding bits of cheese and bread in the corners and around the table legs. Every once in a long while a muffled cough or door-slam sounded from upstairs, and the mice would stop, suddenly tense; but ten seconds of silence would restore their confidence and they'd be scampering about again. A few paused to nibble the leather of two boots under one of the wall tables, but there was tastier fare elsewhere, and they didn't linger there.

When the sky began to pale behind the wavy window glass, the mice knew the night was nearly over. Occasional carts rumbled by on the cobbled street, crows shouted at each other from the rooftops, and a man tramped by the windows, whistling. Finally the rattle of a key in the front door lock sent them bolting for their holes.

The heavy door swung open and a middle-aged woman hobbled in. Her graying hair was tied back in a scarf, and her fingers were clumsy with the keys because of the woolen gloves she wore. 'Well, how does the place look this morning, Brian?' she inquired absently.

Duffy stood up. 'It's good to see you, Piff.'

'Yaaah!' she shrieked, flinging her keys across the room. She stared at him in utter horror for a second, then sighed and dropped unconscious to the floor.

For God's sake, Duffy thought as he ran across the room to the crumpled figure, I've killed her. But why did she speak to me if she didn't know I was here?

Bare feet thumped down the stairs. 'What have you done to her, you monster?' shouted Werner, who stood draped in a wrinkled white nightshirt on the first landing. He waved a long knife menacingly at the Irishman. 'Who'll serve breakfast this morning?'

'She's only fainted,' Duffy said angrily. 'I know her. I said hello to her and she was startled, and fainted.'

Other voices sounded now on the stairs. 'What's happened?' 'That gray-haired drunkard we saw last night just knifed the old lady who serves breakfast.' 'That's right. He tried to rape her.' 'Herr

Oh God, Duffythought, cradling Epiphany's head, this is the worst so far. Worse than the wedding. At least that had a little dignity, smacked of respectable tragedy. This is low farce.

Epiphany's eyes fluttered open. 'Oh, Brian,' she said. 'It really is you, isn't it? And I'm not crazy or haunted?'

'It's me sure enough. Pull yourself together now and explain to these citizens that I haven't murdered you.'

'What citizens...? Oh Lord. I'm all right, Mr Werner. This gentleman is an old friend of mine. I came upon him suddenly and it gave me a fright. I'm terribly sorry to have waked you.'

Werner looked a little disappointed. 'Well, in the future conduct your horseplay on your own time. That goes for you, too, uh, Duffy.' The innkeeper disappeared up the stairs, and the curious guests, muttering 'horseplay?' in several tones of voice, went back to their rooms.

Duffy and Epiphany remained sitting on the floor. 'Oh, Brian,' she said, leaning her head on his shoulder. 'I thought for sure you were dead. They said nobody but Turks survived the battle of Mohacs.'

'Well, damn few, let's say,' the Irishman corrected. 'But if you thought I was dead, why did you speak to me when you walked in? I didn't mean to scare you. I thought someone had told you I was in town.'

'Oh - old women get into silly habits,' she said sheepishly. 'This last year, since Max died, I've... when I'm alone.. .well, I talk to your ghost. Only a sort of game, you know. I'm not going mad or anything. It's just that there's more variety in it than in talking to myself all the time. I certainly never thought you'd answer.'

Half saddened and half amused, Duffy hugged her. Unbidden, the words of the old man in his Trieste dream came back to him: Much has been lost, and there is much yet to lose.

* * *

Book Two

'...Age to age succeeds,

Blowing a noise of tongues and deeds,

A dust of systems and of creeds.'

- Alfred, Lord Tennyson

* * *

Chapter Six