lacked the concentrated wretchedness of the more populous byways.
At a segregated, two-story house Father Rogan halted, and mounted the steps with the confidence of a familiar visitor. He ushered Lorison into a narrow hallway, faintly lighted by a cobwebbed hanging lamp. Almost immediately a door to the right opened and a dingy Irish- woman protruded her head.
'Good evening to ye, Mistress Geehan,' said the priest, unconsciously, it seemed, falling into a delicately flavoured brogue. 'And is it yourself can tell me if Norah has gone out again, the night, maybe?'
'Oh, it's yer blissid reverence! Sure and I can tell ye the same. The purty darlin' wint out, as usual, but a bit later. And she says: 'Mother Geehan,' says she, 'it's me last noight out, praise the saints, this noight is!' And, oh, yer reverence, the swate, beautiful drame of a dress she had this toime! White satin and silk and ribbons, and lace about the neck and arrums -- 'twas a sin, yer reverence, the gold was spint upon it.'
The priest heard Lorison catch his breath painfully, and a faint smile flickered across his own clean-cut mouth.
'Well, then, Mistress Geehan,' said he, 'I'll just step upstairs and see the bit boy for a minute, and I'll take this Gentleman up with me.'
'He's awake, thin,' said the woman. 'I've just come down from sitting wid him the last hour, tilling him fine shtories of ould County Tyrone. 'Tis a greedy gos- soon, it is, yer riverence, for me shtories.'
'Small the doubt,' said Father Rogan. 'There's no rocking would put him to slape the quicker, I'm thinking.'
Amid the woman's shrill protest against the retort, the two men ascended the steep stairway. The priest pushed open the door of a room near its top.
'Is that you already, sister?' drawled a sweet, childish voice from the darkness.
'It's only ould Father Denny come to see ye, darlin'; and a foine gentleman I've brought to make ye a gr-r- and call. And ye resaves us fast aslape in bed! Shame on yez manners!'
'Oh, Father Denny, is that you? I'm glad. And will you light the lamp, please? It's on the table by the door. And quit talking like Mother Geehan, Father Denny.'
The priest lit the lamp, and Lorison saw a tiny, towsled- haired boy, with a thin, delicate face, sitting up in a small bed in a corner. Quickly, also, his rapid glance con- sidered the room and its contents. It was furnished with more than comfort, and its adornments plainly indicated a woman's discerning taste. An open door beyond revealed the blackness of an adjoining room's interior.
The boy clutched both of Father Rogan's hands. 'I'm so glad you came,' he said; 'but why did you come in the night? Did sister send you?'
'Off wid ye! Am I to be sint about, at me age, as was Terence McShane, of Ballymahone? I come on me own r-r-responsibility.'
Lorison had also advanced to the boy's bedside. He was fond of children; and the wee fellow, laving himself down to sleep alone ill that dark room, stirred-his heart.
'Aren't you afraid, little man?' he asked, stooping down beside him.
'Sometimes,' answered the boy, with a shy smile, 'when the rats make too much noise. But nearly every night, when sister goes out, Molt-her Geehan stays a while with me, and tells me funny stories. I'm not often afraid, sir.'
'This brave little gentleman,' said Father Rogan, 'is a scholar of mine. Every day from half-past six to half- past eight -- when sister comes for him -- he stops in my study, and we find out what's in the inside of books. He knows multiplication, division and fractions; and he's troubling me to begin wid the chronicles of Ciaran of Clonmaciioise, Corurac McCullenan and Cuan O'Loc- hain, the gr-r-reat Irish histhorians.' The boy was evidently accustomed to the priest's Celtic pleasantries. A little, appreciative grin was all the attention the insin- nation of pedantry received.
Lorison, to have saved his life, could not have put to the child one of those vital questions that were wildly beating about, unanswered, in his own brain. The little fellow was very like Norah; he had the same shining hair and candid eyes.
'Oh, Father Denny,' cried the boy, suddenly, 'I forgot to tell you! Sister is not going away at night any more! She told me so when she kissed me good night as she was leaving. And she said she was so happy, and then she cried. Wasn't that queer? But I'm glad; aren't you?'
'Yes, lad. And now, ye omadhaun, go to sleep, and say good night; we must be going.'
'Which shall I do first, Father Denny?'
'Faith, he's caught me again! Wait till I get the sassenach into the annals of Tageruach, the hagiographer; I'll give him enough of the Irish idiom to make him more respectful.'
The light was out, and the small, brave voice bidding them good night from the dark room. They groped downstairs, and tore away from the garrulity of Mother Geehan.
Again the priest steered them through the dim ways, but this time in another direction. His conductor was serenely silent, and Lorison followed his example to the extent of seldom speaking. Serene he could not be. His heart beat suffocatingly in his breast. The following of this blind, menacing trail was pregnant with he knew not what humiliating revelation to be delivered at its end.
They came into a more pretentious street, where trade, it could be surmised, flourished by day. And again the priest paused; this time before a lofty building, whose great doors and windows in the lowest floor were carefully shuttered and barred. Its higher apertures were dark, save in the third story, the windows of which were bril- liantly lighted. Lorison's ear caught a distant, regular, pleasing thrumming, as of music above. They stood at an angle of the building. Up, along the side nearest them, mounted an iron stairway. At its top was an upright, illuminated parallelogram. Father Rogan had stopped, and stood, musing.
'I will say this much,' he remarked, thoughtfully: 'I believe you to be a better man than you think yourself to be, and a better man than I thought some hours ago. But do not take this,' he added, with a smile, 'as much praise. I promised you a possible deliverance from an unhappy perplexity. I will have to modify that promise. I can only remove the mystery that enhanced that per- plexity. Your deliverance depends upon yourself. Come.'
