Live to be Useful Part 4

"I mean no harm, mother."

"No harm!" repeated Father M'Clane, turning fiercely toward her. "You won't cheat me with words like these."

Annorah tossed her head scornfully and sat down opposite the priest, who on his part seemed far less desirous to carry on the war since her arrival. The cottage that he occupied belonged to Mr. Lee, and judging that gentleman by his own heart, he feared that an unfavourable representation of the case to him might either increase his rent or turn him out altogether. Besides, he was not unlike bl.u.s.terers, and could denounce the erring with greater ease when they stood in awe of him. That Annorah felt neither fear nor reverence for him, it was easy to see. So, smothering his wrath, he began, to the great surprise of Mrs. Dillon, to address the girl in his most coaxing tones.

"Come, come, Annorah," he said, "let us be friends. It's me that's ould enough, and willing too, to be to you in place o' yer own father, Heaven rest his sowl; but he's gone to a better counthree than this sinful world. An' yer own good, child, is what I think on in spaking to you of Miss Annie and the heretics generally. It's not for meself, shure, that me prayers go up at the could midnight hour whin ye're all sleeping in quiet. It's not me own throubles that make me dream o' Heaven's wrath, but it's me care for yer sowl, Annorah, and for the sake o' yer gettin' saved at last."

"Hear that, Norah, child," said her mother. "Who else ever fretted themselves for yer good? What would become o' ye, an' Father M'Clane gave ye up entirely?

"Your riverence must stay till I draw the tae and fry a bit o' the chicken," added Biddy, as the priest rose to take his leave.

"No, thank you," he replied; "I must not sit down at ease. Small rest is there for me when the wolf is in the fold, and the flock is in danger."

He took leave quite cordially, but when he was gone, Biddy turned, with a shadow on her round face, to speak to her daughter.

"An' what's this ye've been doing, child? Is it me own ears that have heard o' yer Bible-reading and railing at the praste? What's coom to ye now? Didn't I warn ye against their heretic ways? An' ye've been and fallen into the dape pit as aisy as a blind sheep. Och! for shame, Annorah Dillon! Why do ye not spake? What can ye say for yourself?"

"Mother," said Annorah, "how often you've said, when Larry O'Neale's good luck has been tould of, that it was the larnin', shure, that did it all! An' when we were over the great water, you said, 'How nice and comfortable would it be an' we had one in the family like Larry himself, to send back the news to ould friends, when we got safe here.' Do ye not mind, mother dear, how often you've said that same since? Well, now, I've been and learned what ye wanted so much; and first cooms the praste and makes a big fuss, and then you, mother, spake as if I had thried to anger in the room o' plasing ye. I'm sure I've thried to plase you all I could."

"So ye have, mavourneen; so ye have," said Biddy, her voice softening as she turned to look at the chicken and other things that Annorah had brought. "It's not yer mother, honey, that has a word to say against you; but when Father M'Clane talks o' yer being a heretic, it angers me. This Bible that he frets about, what is it, Norah?"

"It's G.o.d's truth, mother, that he has given to teach us all; and a brave book it is. Father M'Clane has one himself; and what frets him is, that the heretics, as he calls them, can read it for themselves and find out G.o.d's will; for only the praste has it with us."

"Well, then, an' the praste tells us the same, it saves us a world o'

bother, shure."

"But if the praste is not a good man, he can tell us whatever he likes; and how do we know what is G.o.d's Word? Now, mother, in all G.o.d's Word there is never a bit about confessing to a praste, but a great deal about praying and confessing to G.o.d himself. But, you see, if all our people knew that same, sorra a bit o' money would go to the praste's pocket in comparison to what he gets now. It's that, mother dear, that makes him so afraid we shall learn. He can't get the money from those who can read G.o.d's Word for themselves."

"Are you sure it's all thrue?" asked Biddy, her eyes wide open with astonishment.

"It is the truth of G.o.d. An' it's this same learning that's got out of the holy Book that makes the difference between Protestants and Catholics. They go to the Word itself, an' we take on hearsay whatever the praste tells us. An' there is no word in all the Book, mother, about praying to Mary the mother of Jesus, or to any of the saints.

Everybody is invited to pray straight up to G.o.d himself."

The girl's downright heresy, and her contempt for the mummeries of the Romish communion, troubled her mother. But what could she do? The change for the better in the child's temper had prepared her to look favourably upon the change in her religion. She listened to Annorah's continued account of what she had learned from the Bible with the greatest interest, feeling every moment more and more disposed to accept its teaching, and less and less disposed to blindly submit to the priest. Annorah stayed till a late hour with her mother, repeating over and over again the truths so interesting to herself, and obtaining permission at last to bring the Bible itself on her next visit. She was strictly cautioned, however, to bring it privately, lest Father M'Clane should hear of it, and, in Biddy's language, "kick up a scrimmage."

There were more ideas in the old woman's head than had ever found room there before, when, after Annorah had gone, she sat down by herself before the fire. She was both ambitious and imaginative, and long vistas of future greatness opened before her, all commencing with the wonderful fact that _her_ child could read and write.

"An' it's not all a queer drame," she said; "I'll hear her for meself coom next Sat.u.r.day Och! what a row it will make an' Father M'Clane, and Teddy Muggins, and Mike Murphy get wind o' a heretic Bible being brought to the place! But I'll hear and judge for meself, that I will; an' if the praste be right, small harm is there to be shure; and if he be wrong, the better for me poor sowl, and a saving o' money."

CHAPTER V.

PHELIM BRINGS BAD TIDINGS TO ANNORAH.

Annorah's troubles were not ended by the unexpected encouragement received from her mother. Her brothers and sister, and Irish acquaintance generally, soon heard that she no longer went to ma.s.s or to confession; and great was the uproar among them. The unsparing rebukes of Father M'Clane, whenever he met with any one supposed to have any influence over her, soon fanned into life not only a vehement hatred of the Protestants, but a bitter feeling of enmity toward the poor girl herself. Those who had been most cordial now either pa.s.sed her in sullen silence, or openly taunted her upon her defection; and the very children in the lane hooted after her, when she made her usual weekly visit to her mother.

Annorah often found these things very hard to bear. Her quick Irish blood was up with the first insulting word; but she sought for strength from above to control it, and no outbreak of pa.s.sion was suffered to mar the sweet lesson that her patience and kindness toward all was insensibly teaching.

She was getting ready for her usual Sat.u.r.day evening's visit to her mother's cottage, when her attention was attracted by the low whistling of a familiar Irish air in the yard below. Looking out, she observed her lame brother, Phelim, making signs for her to come out. A little alarmed lest some evil had befallen her mother she hurried out to meet him.

"What is it, Phelim? What is the matther, dear?"

"Matther, do you ask? Well, the matther is, that ye're not to coom home till ye're sent for. Are ye not ashamed to make such a row?"

"I don't know what you mean. Sit down, Phelim dear; you're over weak to keep standin' so. Does the new liniment no help ye at all? And ye must carry home the money to mother, and the tea, and the sugar, and some nice warm woollen stockings that Mrs. Lee showed me how to knit for yerself, darlin'; and Heaven grant that it's no a bad turn o'

pain ye will get in yer bones by cooming to tell me. There's a cranberry-pie that Mrs. Lee was to send for your own self, Phelim dear; it will relish better than our mother's plain cooking."

The thought of eating the dainty so thoughtfully provided, produced a choking sensation in the boy's throat, as if it had there come into a collision with his wrath against heretics. But he said nothing, and Annorah went on:--

"I've been making some caps for mother; but ye're no able to carry so many things at once, poor fellow."

Still Phelim did not speak, but he gazed earnestly into her face. The moon was up, and he could plainly see the traces of tears on her cheek, and the sad but loving expression of her eyes as she returned his gaze.

"An' it's the Protestant religion that makes you so good and kind, Norah," he said at length; "our Lady help me, and I could just be a heretic wi' ye!"

"It's little I know yet o' the truth, but, O Phelim, it's a lovely way to heaven; and the swate, blessed feeling that fills up the heart when I pray straight up to the Lord Jesus Christ himself, is better than to have all the diamonds in a queen's crown. It makes me so light and happy; so contented intirely. It quiets the bad temper into perfect peace; and I love, as I never dreamed of doing before, all my friends and enemies too. It's little I know yet, Phelim, but all the gould in the world, and all the world's hate too, shall not hinder me from learning more o' G.o.d's wonderful way to save sinners. But hurry home now, Phelim, mavourneen; the raw night air is no good for ye."

"They may say what they will, Norah," said the boy, "but I'm sure I will love ye for ever. An' ye'll tache me to get those heavenly feelings, I'll jist follow the road ye have taken. I've plenty o'

time, as ye know."

"Do ye mean, will I teach you to read?"

"Yes."

"I'll speak to Miss Annie about it. Hurry home as fast as you can.

Good-night, and G.o.d bless you."

With an affectionate kiss they parted; and Annorah went slowly back to her young mistress's room.

"How is this, Annorah?" asked Mrs. Lee, as she entered. "How happened you to return so soon?"

"I have not been home, an' ye please, ma'am."

"Are you not going to-night?" asked Annie, raising her head from her pillow, and noticing, with a little anxiety, the unusual expression of her attendant's face.

"It's Phelim, my brother, miss, has been here, and it's a house full o' company there is at home."

"And they want you to spend the holy Sabbath to-morrow in visiting them, I suppose."

"No, Miss Annie."

"What then?" asked Mrs. Lee, after a moment's silence.

"Nothing to speak of, ma'am. Leastways nothing to trouble ye about."