Clutching himself to hear, clutching to know, Along the path, rustling with withered leaves, Up to the apple, too decayed to blow, Which crooked a palsied finger at the eaves. And up the lichened trunk his body heaves. Dust blinded him, twigs snapped, the branches shook, He leaned along a mossy bough to look.
Nothing at first, except a guttering candle Shaking amazing shadows on the ceiling, Then Anna’s voice upon a bar of ’Randal, Where have you been:’ and voice and music reeling, Trembling, as though she sang with flooding feeling. The singing stopped midway upon the stair, Then Anna showed in white with loosened hair.
Her back was towards him, and she stood awhile, Like a wild creature tossing back her mane, And then her head went back, he saw a smile On the half face half turned towards the pane; Her eyes closed, and her arms went out again. Jim gritted teeth, and called upon his Maker, She drooped into a man’s arms there to take her.
Agony first, sharp, sudden, like a knife, Then down the tree to batter at the door; ’Open there. Let me in. I’ll have your life. You Jezebel of hell, you painted whore, Talk about faith, I’ll give you faith galore.’ The window creaked, a jug of water came Over his head and neck with certain aim.
’Clear out,’ said Ern; ’I’m here, not you, to-night, Clear out. We whip young puppies when they yap.’ ’If you’re a man,’ said Jim, ’Come down and fight, I’ll put a stopper on your ugly chap.’ ’Go home,’ said Ern; ’Go home and get your pap. To kennel, pup, and bid your mother bake Some soothing syrup in your puppy cake.’
There was a dibble sticking in the bed, Jim wrenched it out and swung it swiftly round, And sent it flying at the shepherd’s head: ’I’ll give you puppy-cake. Take that, you hound.’ The broken glass went clinking to the ground, The dibble balanced, checked, and followed flat. ’My God,’ said Ern, ’I’ll give you hell for that.’
He flung the door ajar with ’Now, my pup-- Hold up the candle, Anna--now, we’ll see.’ ’By crimes, come on,’ said Jimmy; ’Put them up. Come, put them up, you coward, here I be.’ And Jim, eleven stone, what chance had he Against fourteen? but what he could he did; Ern swung his right: ’That settles you, my kid.’