Clyst. Old brass band, shuldn’ wonder, like th’ Salvation Army.

Ivy. [Putting up her hands to an imaginary pipe] No; ’tis a boy that goes so; an’ all the dumb things an’ all the people goo after ’im—­like this.

     [She marches slowly, playing her imaginary pipe, and one by one
     they all fall in behind her, padding round the barn in their
     stockinged feet.  Passing the big doors, ivy throws them open.]

An’ ’tes all like that in ’Eaven.

     [She stands there gazing out, still playing on her imaginary
     pipe.  And they all stand a moment silent, staring into the
     moonlight.]

Clyst.  ’Tes a glory-be full mune to-night!

Ivy.  A goldie-cup—­a big one.  An’ millions o’ little goldie-cups on the floor of ’Eaven.

Mercy.  Oh!  Bother ’Eaven!  Let’s dance “Clapperclaws”!  Wake up, Tibby!

Gladys.  Clapperelaws, clapperclaws!  Come on, Bobbie—­make circle!

Clyst. Clapperclaws!  I dance that one fine.

Ivy. [Taking the tambourine] See, Tibby; like this.  She hums and beats gently, then restores the tambourine to the sleepy Tibby, who, waking, has placed a piece of apple in her mouth.

Connie.  ’Tes awful difficult, this one.

Ivy. [Illustrating] No; yu just jump, an’ clap yore ’ands.  Lovely, lovely!

Clyst. Like ringin’ bells!  Come ahn!

[Tibby begins her drowsy beating, ivy hums the tune; they dance, and their shadows dance again upon the walls.  When she has beaten but a few moments on the tambourine, Tibby is overcome once more by sleep and falls back again into her nest of hay, with her little shoed feet just visible over the edge of the bench.  Ivy catches up the tambourine, and to her beating and humming the dancers dance on.]

     [Suddenly Gladys stops like a wild animal surprised, and cranes
     her neck towards the aide door.]

Connie. [Whispering] What is it?

Gladys. [Whispering] I hear—­some one comin’ across the yard.

[She leads a noiseless scamper towards the shoes.  Bobbie Jarland shins up the ladder and seizes the lantern.  Ivy drops the tambourine.  They all fly to the big doors, and vanish into the moonlight, pulling the door nearly to again after them.]

[There is the sound of scrabbling at the hitch of the side door, and Strangway comes into the nearly dark barn.  Out in the night the owl is still hooting.  He closes the door, and that sound is lost.  Like a man walking in his sleep, he goes up to the ladder, takes the rope in his hand, and makes a noose.  He can be heard breathing, and in the darkness the motions of his hands are dimly seen, freeing his throat and putting the noose round his neck.