our hearts : secrets weary of their tyranny : tyrants willing to be dethroned.
The sum was done.
— It is very simple, Stephen said as he stood up.
— Yes, sir. Thanks, Sargent answered.
He dried the page with a sheet of thin blottingpaper and carried his
copybook back to his desk.
— You had better get your stick and go out to the others, Stephen said
as he followed towards the door the boy’s graceless form.
— Yes, sir.
In the corridor his name was heard, called from the playfield.
— Sargent !
— Run on, Stephen said. Mr Deasy is calling you.
He stood in the porch and watched the laggard hurry towards the scrappy
field where sharp voices were in strife. They were sorted in teams and Mr Deasy
came stepping over wisps of grass with gaitered feet. When he had reached the
schoolhouse voices again contending called to him. He turned his angry
— What is it now? he cried continually without listening.
— Cochrane and Halliday are on the same side, sir, Stephen cried.
— Will you wait in my study for a moment, Mr Deasy said, till I restore
And as he stepped fussily back across the field his old man’s voice cried
— What is the matter? What is it now?
Their sharp voices cried about him on all sides : their many forms closed
round him, the garish sunshine bleaching the honey of his illdyed head.
Stale smoky air hung in the study with the smell of drab abraded leather
of its chairs. As on the first day he bargained with me here. As it was in the
beginning, is now. On the sideboard the tray of Stuart coins, base treasure of a
bog : and ever shall be. And snug in their spooncase of purple plush, faded, the
twelve apostles having preached to all the gentiles : world without end.
A hasty step over the stone porch and in the corridor. Blowing out his
rare moustache Mr Deasy halted at the table.
— First, our little financial settlement, he said.
He brought out of his coat a pocketbook bound by a leather thong. It
slapped open and he took from it two notes, one of joined halves, and laid
them carefully on the table strapping and