Dannie wiped his face, and lifting his hat, ran his fingers through
his hair, as if to arouse himself. His eyes were dull and
listless." I am afraid I am no fit to talk sensibly," he said. "I
am much troubled. Some other time----"
"Could you tell me your trouble?" asked Father Michael.
Dannie shook his head.
"I have known Mary Malone all her life," said the priest softly,
"and been her confessor. I have known Jimmy Malone all his life, and
heard his dying confession. I know what it was he was trying to
tell you when he died. Think again!"
Dannie Macnoun stood up. He looked at the priest intently. "Did ye
come here purposely to find me?"
"Yes."
"What do ye want?"
"To clear your mind of all trouble, and fill your heart with love,
and great peace, and rest. Our Heavenly Father knows that you need
peace of heart, and rest, Dannie."
"To fill my heart wi' peace, ye will have to prove to me that I'm
no responsible fra the death of Jimmy Malone; and to give it rest,
ye will have to prove to me that I'm free to marry his wife. Ye can
do neither of those things."
"I can do both," said the priest calmly. "My son, that is what I
came to do."
Dannie's face grew whiter and whiter, as the blood receded, and his
big hands gripped at his sides.
"Aye, but ye canna!" he cried desperately. "Ye canna!"
"I can," said the priest. "Listen to me! Did Jimmy get anything at
all said to you?"
"He said, `Mary,' then he choked on the next word, then he gasped
out `yours,' and it was over.
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