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right. I came to town today especially to apologise to you for my conduct last Thursday,’ Sly replied.
    Lucinda laughed.
    ‘You did indeed,’ she said. ‘Off with you now and don’t be mocking an old widow.’
    Sly moved a step closer to her.
    ‘I’m seldom like that,’ he lied, ‘and if I can do you a favour to make up for it, I will.’
    Sly’s words moved her.
    ‘Forget about it. I forgive you,’ she said softly.
    When Sly saw her being moved, he thought that this was his chance.
    ‘Do you know,’ he ventured, ‘as reparation for my sins, maybe I could buy you a bite to eat later on.’
    When she heard this, Lucinda looked at him doubtfully.
    ‘I hardly know you,’ she retorted. ‘How do I know that you’re not a murderer or one of those scamps that’s forever luring gullible women on the road?’
    Sly laughed heartily on hearing this.
    ‘I am Walter Sly,’ he told her, ‘fifty-two years old and never had the courage to seek a wife … I live on the finest farm in Oldleighlin. Question any of my neighbours about my pedigree and I promise you that they won’t have a thing to say against me except that I drink the odd drink. Yes! And I wouldn’t do that but for the fact that there’s nothing before me at home only the cold walls of the house and a dog in the corner. If I had a wife at home, I would be in a hurry to return to her.’
    Lucinda stood listening, at the same time sizing him up as he stood in front of her. After a while she spoke:
    ‘I can’t leave my bread and butter on the side of the street to go rambling with you. Come this way in two hours and if I have sold my wares, then maybe I’ll let you buy me some food.’
    ‘You know,’ Sly replied excitedly, ‘I have some things to do around town myself; I’ll be back to you in a while.’
    Sly went down the street like a swallow in flight humming to himself.
    ‘A good start is half the work,’ he observed. ‘Oh boy, I’d better take it easy with her and not show too much enthusiasm. What was the advice her son Thomas gave me? Yes, that she was a shrewd woman.’
    Meanwhile Lucinda paid extra attention to her stall, at the same time thinking deeply.
    ‘Maybe I saw the worst side of him on market day,’ she considered . ‘Without a doubt a man has a right to drink a drop now and again as long as he doesn’t make a tramp out of himself. When I see him clean-shaven today, upon my soul but he is a fine man. I suppose it will do no harm to get to know him better. I have spent most of my life on my own and I’m tired of it. Maybe my chance has come today.’
    Lucinda had sold her bread and butter within an hour and a half, the basket was tied in the cart and a small sack of corn was hanging at the horse’s head. She looked up and down the street. She was thinking that it was time the man who was to take her to the eating house appeared.
    She hadn’t long to wait as Sly was coming up the street in a great hurry.
    ‘Now, my good woman,’ he panted, ‘have you your mind made up or will I be shortening the road for home?’
    ‘It’s not every day a woman gets invited to a meal,’ Lucinda smiled.
    The two of them walked up the street together in the direction of the eating house and all eyes were on them.

Chapter Four
    After Walter Sly and Lucinda Singleton had eaten their meal on the Thursday and had come to know each other better, even though Sly had a strong desire for drink, he didn’t mention a hotel or tavern while he was in her company. Lucinda was impressed by his demeanour that evening but it was a little early, with a long road ahead of them, to make any judgement. Sly questioned her about the place she came from.
    ‘It’s called Tullow,’ she informed him, ‘a country town like any small town in Ireland.’
    Sly knew the county well, not to mention the lie of the land. Anybody who was involved in buying and selling horses would be travelling east, west, up and down through the countryside.
    Before they parted