Chapter 7

           Thesuperior,theveryreverendJohnConmeeS.J.resethissmoothwatchinhisinteriorpocketashecamedownthepresbyterysteps.Fivetothree.JustnicetimetowalktoArtane.Whatwasthatboy’snameagain?Dignam.Yes.Veredignumetiustumest.BrotherSwanwasthepersontosee.MrCunningham’sletter.Yes.Obligehim,ifpossible.Goodpracticalcatholic:usefulatmissiontime.

           Aoneleggedsailor,swinginghimselfonwardbylazyjerksofhiscrutches,growledsomenotes.HejerkedshortbeforetheconventofthesistersofcharityandheldoutapeakedcapforalmstowardstheveryreverendJohnConmeeS.J.FatherConmeeblessedhiminthesunforhispurseheld,heknew,onesilvercrown.

           FatherConmeecrossedtoMountjoysquare.Hethought,butnotforlong,ofsoldiersandsailors,whoselegshadbeenshotoffbycannonballs,endingtheirdaysinsomepauperward,andofcardinalWolsey’swords:IfIhadservedmyGodasIhaveservedmykingHewouldnothaveabandonedmeinmyolddays.Hewalkedbythetreeshadeofsunnywinkingleaves:andtowardshimcamethewifeofMrDavidSheehyM.P.

           —Verywell,indeed,father.Andyou,father?

           FatherConmeewaswonderfullywellindeed.HewouldgotoBuxtonprobablyforthewaters.Andherboys,weretheygettingonwellatBelvedere?Wasthatso?FatherConmeewasverygladindeedtohearthat.AndMrSheehyhimself?StillinLondon.Thehousewasstillsitting,tobesureitwas.Beautifulweatheritwas,delightfulindeed.Yes,itwasveryprobablethatFatherBernardVaughanwouldcomeagaintopreach.O,yes:averygreatsuccess.