"
"Hate!" cried Dannie. "Hate! Father Michael, if ye have come to
tell me that Jimmy na held me responsible fra his death, and was
willing fra me to have Mary, your face looks like the face of God
to me!" Dannie gripped the priest's hand. "Are ye sure? Are ye
sure, mon?" He almost lifted Father Michael from the ground.
"I tell you, I know! Go and be happy!"
"Some ither day I will try to thank ye," said Dannie, turning away.
"Noo, I'm in a little of a hurry." He was half way to the gate
when he turned back. "Does Mary know this?" he asked.
"She does," said the priest. "You are one good man, Dannie, go and
be happy, and may the blessing of God go with you."
Dannie lifted his hat.
"And Jimmy, too," he said, "put Jimmy in, Father Michael."
"May the peace of God rest the troubled soul of Jimmy Malone," said
Father Michael, and not being a Catholic, Dannie did not know that
from the blessing for which he asked.
He hurried away with the brightness of dawn on his lined face,
which looked almost boyish under his whitening hair.
Mary Malone was at the window, and turmoil and bitterness were
beginning to burn in her heart again. Maybe the priest had not
found Dannie. Maybe he was not coming. Maybe a thousand things.
Then he ~was coming. Coming straight and sure. Coming across the
fields, and leaping fences at a bound. Coming with such speed and
force as comes the strong man, fifteen years denied. Mary's heart
began to jar, and thump, and waves of happiness surged over her.
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