A Boy Knight Part 22

As Father Boone entered the Club he observed how serious they were. It was natural, he reflected, and best to let it work itself out. He would not mention the McCormack treat just now.

The boys gathered around him, and asked all sorts of questions about Bill's last moments. Even to these lads it meant something consoling that he had died a beautiful Catholic death. They told Father Boone that they had gone to Ma.s.s in a body that morning, and had received Holy Communion for Bill's soul.

"I offered up the Holy Sacrifice of the Ma.s.s for William this morning,"

said the priest, "and I suggest that on the day of the funeral you all go to Communion again in a body for the repose of his soul."

"We had already decided on that, Father," said d.i.c.k.

"That is good," remarked the priest, "and now another thing. You know his mother is terribly broken up by her boy's death. That is natural.

She would not be a mother otherwise. Of course, she is resigned to G.o.d's will. So was Our Blessed Mother, at the foot of the Cross, but that did not prevent her heart from being pierced with grief. Mrs. Daly was very brave under it all. So much so that Mr. Roberts, who was there, said to me afterwards, 'Your religion is a wonderful thing in affliction.' But, boys, she feels the separation keenly. William was a remarkably good boy to his mother. Now that he is dead, I can say to you that the poor boy had an awful lot to contend with, and if it were not for his religion and his mother, no one can say how he might have turned out.

"Now I suggest, boys, that you divide up, and some of you go over to the house at one time, and some at another, on a visit of condolence."

"Yes, Father," said Tommy. "We were thinking about going over."

"What's the best thing to say to her, Father, if we want to show our sympathy?" asked d.i.c.k.

"Nothing," replied the priest. "Words are useless in deep sorrow. Just go there quietly. Your mere presence will say more than any words, if your behavior is considerate."

"Shouldn't we say anything at all?" asked Ned.

"Just a word or two to say who you are, and that you are sorry for her.

Your presence is what will talk most."

It was after ten o'clock that evening when Father Boone reached the Daly flat. He had been stopped several times on his way over, by inquiries about the Club, and Daly. On entering he found six of the Club boys kneeling around the body saying the rosary. The lads had held a meeting after Father Boone had left them, and decided to go in groups of six, each group to stay a half hour. They also decided that the best way they could show their sympathy for the parents, and to aid Bill, was to say the beads.

In order not to disturb them, Father Boone went quietly into the rear room. Some one told Mrs. Daly that the priest was come, and she went to him at once. As soon as she saw Father Boone, she broke down. The priest had expected it. He had seen less devoted mothers become hysterical under such circ.u.mstance. He simply said nothing. He let her have her cry out. When it was over, he remarked, "That's good now; that cry will do you good." He spoke kindly, but very firmly. He knew that one little exhibition of his own feelings would start her all over again.

When she was composed, she said, "O, but Father, what lovely boys you have at the Club! Sure, they came in here in droves all the evening, and every one of them knelt down and said the rosary for Willie. It did my heart good. Forgive me, Father, for the cry I had. They gave me so much comfort, I thought I was altogether resigned to G.o.d's blessed will. But the sight of you, Father, brought the tears."

"Well, I am not surprised at that, my good woman. Did not our Lord have tears of blood in Gethsemani? Yet He was resigned. The end of His prayer was, 'Not my will, but Thine be done.' If we did not feel these things keenly, there would be little merit in being resigned to G.o.d's will."

"G.o.d bless you, Father, for saying that. I was afraid I was rebellious."

"Not at all. You were only human, only a mother."

Again she started to cry, and the priest sat silent.

After a moment he said, "And now, Mrs. Daly, remember that by offering up your sorrow to G.o.d for Willie, it becomes something precious in the sight of heaven, and will benefit his soul."

"Thank you, Father, I'll do like you say. But Father, you should see himself. I never thought he would take it so hard."

"Where is he?"

"Inside."

"Tell him to come here."

In a moment Mr. Daly came in. There were no signs of tears on his face, just a drawn, sad expression. His eyes were sunken and dull. He began first.

"O Father, it's the hand of G.o.d on me and I deserve it. If the home was what it should be, it never would have come to this."

"Well, Michael, if it's the hand of G.o.d, and it is, it is for your good.

The hand of G.o.d will never lead you away from your true welfare."

"But it's the Missus I'm thinking about, Father. It will kill her. I can stand it. But she can't. Oh, if the good G.o.d had taken me instead!" He sighed heavily. "Of course, I feel Willie's going, too, almost as much as the mother, for I had just found him again. All these years he was lost to me, and mine the fault, the crime I should say, and it is G.o.d that is punishing me."

"I believe it, Michael. And He is punishing you here rather than hereafter. But His chastis.e.m.e.nts are different from men's. He draws good from His punishments. This will make a man of you, and you will save your soul. It brings G.o.d and His judgments before you. It shows you that we never know when He may call us, and that we should all be ready.

Suppose He had called you suddenly two weeks ago, where would you be now?"

Michael said not a word. He just bowed his head.

Father Boone continued, "Be a man, Michael. Take your sorrow as chastis.e.m.e.nt from G.o.d. You deserve it, as you know. You did not appreciate the child G.o.d gave you, and He took him. Live now as a good man and husband. Don't worry over the Missus. Her faith will take care of her."

While he was speaking, Mrs. Daly came in. Turning to her, he said, "Mrs.

Daly, I feel sorry for you and Michael, but I do not feel sorry for the boy. Willie is now with G.o.d. He died the way Christ wants His followers to die. He is with G.o.d now. He would not exchange places with the most fortunate person in this world. He would not come back again if he could. G.o.d grant that you and I may finish our journey to eternity as acceptably as he has done!"

"Blessed be the holy will of G.o.d," responded the mother.

"Amen," said Michael.

"Now I am proud of you," declared the priest. "Your sorrow is great, but like true followers of Christ you carry your cross after Him. That is why He had His way of the Cross, so that when we have ours, we shall not be alone. Come into the front room and let us say a prayer for Willie's soul."

As they entered, the friends sitting around stood up. The six lads saying the beads continued their prayers, but on seeing Father Boone, they terminated the rosary at the decade they were saying.

When all was silence, the priest spoke out, "My dear people, let us all say the 'Our Father' for the repose of William's soul. When we come to 'Thy Will be done,' we shall pause for a moment, and dwell particularly on those words. All please kneel."

He began: "In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, Amen. Our Father....who art in heaven....hallowed be Thy name....Thy kingdom come....THY....WILL....BE DONE....on earth....as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread....and forgive us our trespa.s.ses....as we forgive those....who trespa.s.s against us....and lead us not into temptation....but deliver us from evil....Amen. May Willie's soul, and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of G.o.d rest in peace. Amen."

He rose from his knees and quickly and quietly left the room. The boys soon followed, for it was late. One by one the others left, and the father and mother were alone with their dead. They sat silent for a long time. Then Mrs. Daly touched her husband's arm and said, "Michael, let us kneel down and say the 'Our Father,' the way Father Boone did."

Chapter VII

Knighted

The day after the funeral of Bill Daly, Frank was on his way down to school when he met d.i.c.k and Ned.

"I say, Frank," began d.i.c.k, "don't you think you better do something about that Club row?"

"There's nothing to be done, as far as I can see, d.i.c.k."

"That's because you're not hearing what we hear. But it won't be long before you get it, too. It's just got to us, because they know we're friends of yours."

"Well, in the name of Sam Hill, what is it you hear?" asked Frank.