THE CONFESSIONAL--AN IRISH FROLIC.
Great was the uproar in Biddy Dillon's cottage when it was found that
Annorah was not coming to make her usual Saturday evening visit to her
mother.
Preparations had been made by Father M'Clane for holding a regular
confessional; and an hour before sunset, he had taken his seat in the
little darkened chamber, behind a table on which four tallow-candles
were burning, with an uncertain, flickering light.
It had been decided in the council of relatives and friends that
Annorah's only chance of salvation lay in speedy confession, and it
was very reasonably supposed, that could she be brought back to that
Popish duty, a great point would be gained in the way to her perfect
restoration.
It was, therefore, no affectionate, loving circle that had now
assembled to "bear a hand" in Annorah's restoration to the faith. One
after another went reverently on their knees up the short, steep
stairway, and came down lighter in purse, and, as the priest wickedly
taught them, absolved of all offences, but swelling with wrath against
the poor girl whose coming was so long delayed. And when, at last, it
became apparent that she would not come, a storm of abuse was poured
upon Biddy, who, it was evident to all, did not cordially join in
their violent measures.
Now, Biddy Dillon had too much of the national character to sit down
quietly and receive their abuse, and soon a regular quarrel ensued,
which would have speedily become a fight, but for the descent of
Father M'Clane into their midst, and his imperative command that each
one should sit down quietly and "hould his tongue."
"Whisht! whisht! Of what are ye thinking, ye silly gossoons? Will ye
bring down the peace officers upon ye, and take out the bit o' the
night in the prison, instead o' drinking me health, as ye may, and me
helping to do that same? Arrah! Why should ye glower and snarl at each
other, like a kennel o' mad puppies, when it's the brave frolic ye may
have together? It's the soft looks and the fine words ye must use, an'
ye would win the young heretic back; ye may fight over her till the
great day o' all, and it will be but a sorrowful waste o' the
powther, barrin' the swate chance ye are losing now o' a comfortable
frolic. Arrah, now, Dennis darlin', a sup o' the whisky for me, a
thrifle sthrong, an' ye plaze. It's a could night to be out wi' an
empty stoomach."
"Stay till the morning, father," said Biddy, coming up to him with an
anxious face; "we cannot kape peace an' ye do not bide wi' us; the
frolic will be all the better an' ye stay to the orderin' o' it,--and
the best bed is waitin' yer riverence's convanience. There's Sandy and
Mike will fight an' ye lave, and Katy there is ready to tear out the
eyes o' big Nelly Murphy. It's quarrelling they've been the whole
blessed day. Bide with us, lest the dear childer who is the cause o'
it all should be kilt and murdered intirely, an' she sthrays home
to-night."
She spoke in a low voice, and he replied in the same tone, drawing her
back from the crowd, who were all talking together.
"Look here, Biddy Dillon," he said; "the girl must lave that grand
house and come home to live here with you."
"Lave Miss Annie, do ye mane, sir?"
"Small hope for her sowl an' she do not."
"And few are the pennies I can bring to yer riverence when the child
has no wages to bring home o' a Saturday. Sorra a hap'orth to spare
will I find; it's no me two hands alone can find bread for the mouths
o' all, and--"
"Stuff and nonsense!" interrupted the priest; "there's many another
place can be had for a sthrong, likely lass like her. Good servants
are not over plenty, and she can be better placed."
"But where, I would like ye to tell? It's in a Protestant family she
must be, an' she goes out to service at all."
"Yes; but they'll let her alone in some houses. Sorra a bit do the
most o' them care what becomes o' the sowl, an' the work be done to
their liking. Our Lady be praised! it's to the far counthrees that the
Protestant missionaries are sent, and the silver is given; for
one-half o' the pains taken wi' the poor crathurs who work in their
kitchens would have ruined us all."
"Yer riverence spakes thrue, to be shure," said Biddy; "but for all
that, it will never be a bit o' use to thry to make a good Catholic o'
Norah, now that she can read the big books and talk so bravely
herself. An' it were to be the savin' o' her life, she would never
confess to a praste again, or take the holy wafer from his hands. But
if ye would take it aisy and lave it to me, and persuade these
meddlesome boobies to mind their own particular business, and
throuble us no more, it's meself would be sure to bring the handsome
sum to yer riverence when I come to confession. Contrariwise, you see,
and you kape fussing, and they kape fussing, it's all loss it is to
ye, and no gain."
The priest's countenance brightened perceptibly. He seemed much
impressed with Biddy's view of the case, and was not slow to perceive
its worldly wisdom. So, after addressing the waiting company to some
purpose, he left them.
But Biddy sat thoughtfully in a corner, with her lame boy. She had, in
her conversation with the priest, cunningly hit on an expedient to
propitiate him for a time, but she was ill at ease. She could not at
once throw off the chains of teaching that had bound her all her life;
and so dim was the light that she had received, that she dared not yet
follow it.
"Oh, then, it's a jewel she is, core o' me heart, Norah dear!"
The last two words were whispered so loud that Phelim heard them, and
he said, "I've seen her to-night, mother."
"Who? Spake aisy, mavourneen."
"Our Norah."
"When?" questioned his mother, with an anxious glance at the unheeding
revellers.
"Afther dusk. I thought ye would like her to kape away to-night."
"Now blessings on ye for a handy callant as ye are," said Biddy,
patting his shoulder approvingly. "An' how is she?"
"Well as ever, mother, and kind-tempered and good too. A power of good
things she has sent, and they're safe hid in the cellar. The money is
in me coat pocket, mother. Shall I give it ye?"
"Not now. Kape it till all be gone. Was she sorry or mad, Phelim?"
"Mad? Not at all. Sorry? I don't know at all. Her voice was all
courage and kindness; but I saw big tears on her cheek, for all that."
The mother and son sat silently looking into the fire for a few
moments. At last Phelim spoke. "Mother," said the boy, "ye'll not have
them abuse her and torment her, just for changing into such a dear
crathur?"
"She's a heretic, lad."
"What o' that? She's good, any way," said Phelim stoutly. "I would I
were a big man. We'd see who would throuble her then. It's a thrashin'
they'd get, an' it's manners they'd learn, and no charges made for the
teaching."
"Whisht, lad! it's careful and sly we must be. An' do ye not bother
yer poor head wi' yer sister's new notions. It's a nation o' throuble
I'd have with a pair o' ye at once; and ye're no earning money,
Phelim, boy, to buy off the praste. Kape a still tongue, lad, an' ye
bite it in two; an' don't go for to meddle wi' matters concerning yer
sowl. The praste an' yer poor mother will kape a sharp look-out; an'
it will go hard, shure, if between us ye are not saved at last."
"But, mother, where is the harm if I look for meself a bit? Who can
see Norah, so gentle and loving, so careful o' you and me, so pleasant
to every one, and not want to know more o' the way she has taken?"
"Yes, yes, lad; but have ye no sense at all? What if ye have been
tould a secret, can ye not kape it the same? Now mind, once for all;
ye're not to know it at all, if Norah brings home the Word o' the Lord
to read to her ould ignorant mother (it's a swate voice she has), and
ye shall hear the big Book as well; only mind, Phelim, acushla, ye're
to know nothing at all, let who will spake to ye o' the same."
"Yes; but, mother, what if I myself learn to--"
"Hush!--Is it o' me ye are spaking?" asked Biddy, turning to a cluster
of people who had drawn near them. "It's no hearty I feel to-night,
and poor lame Phelim is kaping me company. Is it room for the dance ye
are wanting? The other is the roomiest, and the floor is the
plainest."
Hurrying out with ready good-will to assist in the needful
preparations, Biddy soon removed any suspicions that might have been
entertained in the minds of any of her neighbours of any leaning on
her part toward heresy.