Sweamh an boladh caife úr isteach san aer sa Seanmhuilinn.

The smell of fresh coffee floated into the air in Seanmhuilinn.

Bhífadh Cormac os comhair an mheaisín caife, ag cappáil gingerly é le cruinn.

Cormac was standing in front of the coffee machine, tapping it gingerly with precision.

Chaith sé súil thart.

He glanced around.

Bhí an áit dubh le daoine mar is gnách.

The place was packed as usual.

Chuaigh an fuacht geimhridh isteach sna cnámha, ach chabhraigh an caife te leis sin.

The winter cold seeped into the bones, but the hot coffee helped with that.

Bhí Sorcha ina suí cúpla tábla uaidh.

Sorcha was sitting a few tables away from him.

Bhí an t-aer bán ag teacht amach as a béal di le gáire, oiríonna iontais idir litreacha agus leabhair scaipthe ar an mbord aici.

Steam came out of her mouth with laughter, surrounded by scattered notes and books on her table.

Bhí sí ag lorg inspioráide don alt eile a bhí sí ag scríobh.

She was looking for inspiration for another article she was writing.

Ach chuir rud éigin spéis chúigí inniu.

But something caught her attention today.

Tháinig ceirteanna ceann ar cheann chuig Sorcha nuair a bhris an litir isteach sa rótéireach.

Cloths arrived one by one to Sorcha as the letter broke into the routine.

Bhí spéis an-mhór aici ansin ar an bpáipéar donn.

She became very interested in the brown paper.

Bhí cló galldaí air, agus níorbh fhéidir é a léamh go héasca.

It had a foreign script on it, and it couldn't be easily read.

Rinne Cormac súil ghéar leis.

Cormac eyed it sharply.

“Cad é sin?

"What is that?"

” ar seisean.

he asked.

“Litir mistéireach,” a d'fhreagair Sorcha, beagán amhrasach.

"A mysterious letter," Sorcha replied, a bit suspiciously.

Ghlaoigh an litir orthu, cosúil le péire sean-bhaile.

The letter called to them, like a pair of old acquaintances.

Cuir cnapán i bhfolach air.

It concealed a mystery.

Ach bhí Sorcha beagán neirbhíseach.

But Sorcha was a bit nervous.

"B'fhéidir nach bhfuil sé sábháilte go leor," ar sise.

"Perhaps it's not safe enough," she said.

D’fhiafraigh Cormac, "Cad má tá rud éigin mór ann?

Cormac inquired, "What if there's something big there?

Ba mhaith liom a fháil amach.

I'd like to find out."

"Faoi dheireadh, d’athraigh intinn Sorcha.

Eventually, Sorcha changed her mind.

Má bhí spéis mhór ag Cormac, ba cheart go mbainfidh sí spéis léi.

If Cormac was very interested, she should be too.

D'aontaigh sí cabhrú.

She agreed to help.

Agus b’fhiú an rún seo ghlaoch i gcúinne intinne Sorcha.

This secret was worth calling forth in the corner of her mind.

Cuireadh iad ar thóir.

They were put on a quest.

Bhí an litir líonta le físeáin spraíúla agus léinn bhreacach.

The letter was filled with playful hints and sparse scholarship.

Bhí focal ar shiúl sa chúinne díreach os a gcomhair.

A word stood in the corner right before them.

"Bleachtaire" léigh sé.

"Detective" it read.

Rug sé Sorcha le imní, ach níor chuir sé cosc ar Cormac.

It caught Sorcha with worry, but it didn't stop Cormac.

Nuair a d'éirigh leo suímh agus teachtaireachtaí ón litreacha a thuiscint, tháinig siad chuig tuiscint a bhí faoi shúgradh.

When they managed to understand locations and messages from the letters, they reached an understanding that was under disguise.

Fear a bhíodh aghaidh i ngach áit sa rótéireach.

A man whose face was in every place in the routine.

An duine a bhí le feiceáil i bhfad ró-mhinic saor.

The person who appeared too often free.

Agus an uair seo, b'éigean dóibh é a lorg.

And this time, they had to seek him out.

"Is d'fhostóir gabha," arsa an seanfhear nuair a thug siad litir dó, leathaoiseach ag tagairt do bhaol.

"He's an employer of a smith," said the old man when they handed him the letter, half-serious with a note of danger.

"Scrúdú tapa cineál de dhíth.

"A quick examination of a kind needed."

"Rinne Sorcha réidh.

Sorcha got ready.

D’fhéadfadh sí an scéal a roinnt le saol mór.

She could share the story with the world.

D’fhéadfadh sí a ailt a chríochnú anois, a bhí ar iarraidh uirthi.

She could finish her missing articles now.

Cormac, ar a shlí féin, bhain taitneamh as dúshlán na rúndiamhair seo.

Cormac, on the other hand, enjoyed the challenge of this mystery.

Ag an deireadh, fhoghlaim an bheirt rud éigin nua.

In the end, the two learned something new.

Thug Sorcha an inspioráid a bhí á lorg aici le dul ar aghaidh le scéalta comhroinnte.

Sorcha found the inspiration she was looking for to continue with shared stories.

Agus bhí Cormac sásta le cleachtadh níos doimhne ar anaithnid, b’fhéidir fiú ag smaoineamh ar ghairm bheatha nua mar an gcéanna.

And Cormac was pleased with the deeper practice of the unknown, perhaps even pondering a new career just the same.

Arsa an cruinniú sin cófra le filíocht: ar bith ach mórintinn neamhchiontach.

That meeting was like a vault with poetry: anything but a great innocent mind.

Is cosúil gur mearbhall agus cuma gach rud a fheictear, uaigneach sa fhear seo, mór sa bhláth teorann.

It seems everything seen is confusing and isolated, lonely in this man, great in the blossom of the border.