Chapter XXXVI
A letter from Father M'Grath, who diplomatizes--When priest meetspriest, then comes the tug of war--Father O'Toole not to be made a toolof.
We continued our cruise for a fortnight, and then made sail for Jamaica,where we found the admiral at anchor at Port Royal, but our signal wasmade to keep under weigh, and Captain Kearney, having paid his respectsto the admiral, received orders to carry despatches to Halifax. Waterand provisions were sent on board by the boats of the admiral's ships,and, to our great disappointment, as the evening closed in, we wereagain standing out to sea, instead of, as we had anticipated, enjoyingourselves on shore; but the fact was, that orders had arrived fromEngland to send a frigate immediately up to the admiral at Halifax, tobe at his disposal.
I had, however, the satisfaction to know that Captain Kearney had beentrue to his word in making mention of my name in the despatch, for theclerk showed me a copy of it. Nothing occurred worth mentioning duringour passage, except that Captain Kearney was very unwell nearly thewhole of the time, and seldom quitted his cabin. It was in October thatwe anchored in Halifax harbour, and the Admiralty, expecting our arrivalthere, had forwarded our letters. There were none for me, but there wasone for O'Brien, from Father M'Grath, the contents of which were asfollows:--
"MY DEAR SON,--And a good son you are, and that's the truth on it, ordevil a bit should you be a son of mine. You've made your family quitecontented and peaceable, and they never fight for the _praties_ now--good reason why they shouldn't, seeing that there's a plenty for all ofthem, and the pig craturs into the bargain. Your father and your mother,and your brother, and your three sisters, send their duty to you, andtheir blessings too--and you may add my blessing, Terence, which isworth them all; for won't I get you out of purgatory in the twinkling ofa bed-post? Make yourself quite aisy on that score, and lave it all tome; only just say a _pater_ now and then, that when St Peter lets youin, he mayn't throw it in your teeth, that you've saved your soul bycontract, which is the only way by which emperors and kings ever get toheaven. Your letter from Plymouth came safe to hand: Barney, thepost-boy, having dropped it under foot, close to our door, the big pigtook it into his mouth and ran away with it; but I caught sight of him,and _speaking_ to him, he let it go, knowing (the 'cute cratur!) that Icould read it better than him. As soon as I had digested the contents,which it was lucky the pig did not instead of me, I just took my mealand my big stick, and then set off for Ballycleuch.
"Now you know, Terence, if you haven't forgot--and if you have, I'lljust remind you--that there's a flaunty sort of young woman at thepoteen shop there, who calls herself Mrs O'Rourke, wife to a CorporalO'Rourke, who was kilt or died one day, I don't know which, but that'snot of much consequence. The devil a bit do I think the priest ever gavethe marriage-blessing to that same; although she swears that she wasmarried on the rock of Gibraltar--it may be a strong rock fore I know,but it's not the rock of salvation like the seven sacraments, of whichmarriage is one. _Benedicite_! Mrs O'Rourke is a little too apt to fleerand jeer at the priests; and if it were not that she softens down herpertinent remarks with a glass or two of the real poteen, which provessome respect for the church, I'd excommunicate her body and soul, andevery body and every soul that put their lips to the cratur at her door.But she must leave that off, as I tell her, when she gets old and ugly,for then all the whisky in the world sha'n't save her. But she's a finewoman now, and it goes agin my conscience to help the devil to a finewoman. Now this Mrs O'Rourke knows everybody and everything that's goingon in the country about; and she has a tongue which has never had aholiday since it was let loose.
"'Good morning to ye, Mrs O'Rourke,' says I.
"'An' the top of the morning to you, Father M'Grath,' says she, with asmile; 'what brings you here? Is it a journey that you're taking to buythe true wood of the cross? or is it a purty girl that you wish toconfess, Father M'Grath? or is it only that you're come for a drop ofpoteen, and a little bit of chat with Mrs O'Rourke?'
"'Sure it's I who'd be glad to find the same true wood of the cross, MrsO'Rourke, but it's not grown, I suspect, at your town of Ballycleuch;and it's no objection I'd have to confess a purty girl like yourself,Mrs O'Rourke, who'll only tell me half her sins, and give me no trouble;but it's the truth, that I'm here for nothing else but to have a bit ofchat with yourself, dainty dear, and taste your poteen, just by way ofkeeping my mouth nate and clane.'
"So Mrs O'Rourke poured out the real stuff, which I drank to her health;and then says I, putting down the bit of a glass, 'So you've a strangercome, I find, in your parts, Mrs O'Rourke.'
"'I've heard the same,' replied she. So you observe, Terence, I came tothe fact all at once by a guess.
"'I am tould,' says I, 'that he's a Scotchman, and spakes what nobodycan understand.'
"'Devil a bit,' says she, 'he's an Englishman, and speaks plain enough.'
"'But what can a man mane, to come here and sit down all alone?' says I.
"'All alone, Father M'Grath!' replied she; 'is a man all alone when he'sgot his wife and childer, and more coming, with the blessing of God?'
"'But those boys are not his own childer, I believe,' says I.
"'There again you're all in a mistake, Father M'Grath,' rejoins she.'The childer are all his own, and all girls to boot. It appears thatit's just as well that you come down, now and then, for information, toour town of Ballycleuch.'
"'Very true, Mrs O'Rourke,' says I; 'and who is it that knows everythingso well as yourself?' You observe, Terence, that I just said everythingcontrary and _arce versa_, as they call it, to the contents of yourletter; for always recollect, my son, that if you would worm a secretout of a woman, you'll do more by contradiction than you ever will bycoaxing--so I went on: 'Anyhow, I think it's a burning shame, MrsO'Rourke, for a gentleman to bring over with him here from England aparcel of lazy English servants, when there's so many nice boys andgirls here to attind upon them.'
"'Now there you're all wrong again, Father M'Grath,' says she. 'Devil asoul has he brought from the other country, but has hired them all here.Arn't there Ella Flanagan for one maid, and Terence Driscol for afootman? and it's well that he looks in his new uniform, when he comesdown for the newspapers; and arn't Moggy Cala there to cook the dinner,and pretty Mary Sullivan for a nurse for the babby as soon as it comesinto the world?'
"'Is it Mary Sullivan you mane?' says I; 'she that was married aboutthree months back, and is so quick in child-getting, that she's all butready to fall to pieces in this same time?'
"'It's exactly she,' says Mrs O'Rourke; 'and do you know the reason?'
"'Devil a bit,' says I; 'how should I?'
"'Then it's just that she may send her own child away, and give her milkto the English babby that's coming; because the lady is too much of alady to have a child hanging to her breast.'
"'But suppose Mary Sullivan's child ar'n't born till afterwards, howthen?" says I. 'Speak, Mrs O'Rourke, for you're a sensible woman.'
"'How then?' says she. 'Och! that's all arranged; for Mary says thatshe'll be in bed a week before the lady, so that's all right, you'llperceive, Father M'Grath.'
"'But don't you perceive, sensible woman as you are, that a young woman,who is so much out of her reckoning as to have a child three monthsafter her marriage, may make a little mistake in her lying-inarithmetic, Mrs O'Rourke.'
"'Never fear, Father M'Grath, Mary Sullivan will keep her word; andsooner than disappoint the lady, and lose her place, she'll just tumbledown-stairs, and won't that put her to bed fast enough?'
"'Well, that's what I call a faithful good servant that earns herwages,' says I; 'so now I'll just take another glass, Mrs O'Rourke, andthank you too. Sure you're the woman that knows everything, and a mightypretty woman into the bargain.'
"'Let me alone now, Father M'Grath, and don't be pinching me that way,anyhow.'
"'It was only a big flea that I perceived hopping on your gown, mydarling, devil anything else.'
"'Many thanks to you, father
, for that same; but the next time you'dkill my fleas, just wait until they're in a _more dacent_ situation.'
"'Fleas are fleas, Mrs O'Rourke, and we must catch 'em when we can, andhow we can, and as we can, so no offence. A good night's rest to you,Mrs O'Rourke--when do you mean to confess?'
"'I've an idea that I've too many fleas about me to confess to you justnow, Father M'Grath, and that's the truth on it. So a pleasant walk backto you.'
"So you'll perceive, my son, that having got all the information fromMrs O'Rourke, it's back I went to Ballyhinch, till I heard it whisperedthat there were doings down at the old house at Ballycleuch. Off I set,and went to the house itself, as priests always ought to be welcomed atbirths, and marriages, and deaths, being, as you know, of great use onsuch occasions--when who should open the door but Father O'Toole, thebiggest rapparee of a priest in the whole of Ireland. Didn't he steal ahorse, and only save his neck by benefit of clergy? and did he ever giveabsolution to a young woman without making her sin over again? 'What maybe your pleasure here, Father M'Grath?' says he, holding the door withhis hand.
"'Only just to call and hear what's going on.'
"'For the matter of that,' says he, 'I'll just tell you that we're allgoing on very well; but ar'n't you ashamed of yourself, Father M'Grath,to come here to interfere with my flock, knowing that I confess thehouse altogether?'
"'That's as may be,' says I; 'but I only wanted to know what the ladyhad brought into the world.'
"'It's a _child_' says he.
"'Indeed!' says I; 'many thanks for the information; and pray what is itthat Mary Sullivan has brought into the world?'
"'That's a _child_ too,' says he; 'and now that you know all about it,good evening to you, Father M'Grath.' And the ugly brute slammed thedoor right in my face.
"'Who stole a horse?' cries I; but he didn't hear me--more's the pity.
"So you'll perceive, my dear boy, that I have found out something, atall events, but not so much as I intended; for I'll prove to FatherO'Toole that he's no match for Father M'Grath. But what I find out mustbe reserved for another letter, seeing that it's not possible to tell itto you in this same. Praties look well, but somehow or another,_clothes_ don't grow upon trees in ould Ireland; and one of yourhalf-quarterly bills, or a little prize-money, if it found its way here,would add not a little to the respectability of the family appearance.Even my cassock is becoming too _holy_ for a parish priest; not that Icare about it so much, only Father O'Toole, the baste! had on a bran newone--not that I believe that he ever came honestly by it, as I have bymine--but, get it how you may, a new gown always looks better than anold one, that's certain. So no more at present from your loving friendand confessor,
"URTAGH M'GRATH."
"Now, you'll observe, Peter," said O'Brien, after I had read the letter,"that, as I supposed, your uncle meant mischief when he went over toIreland. Whether the children are both boys or both girls, or youruncle's is a boy, and the other is a girl, there is no knowing atpresent. If an exchange was required, it's made, that's certain; but Iwill write again to Father M'Grath, and insist upon his finding out thetruth, if possible. Have you any letter from your father?"
"None, I am sorry to say. I wish I had, for he would not have failed tospeak on the subject."
"Well, never mind, it's no use dreaming over the matter; we must do ourbest when we get to England ourselves, and in the meantime trust toFather M'Grath. I'll go and write to him while my mind's full of it."O'Brien wrote his letter, and the subject was not started again.
Peter Simple; and, The Three Cutters, Vol. 1-2 Page 42