parson should not bridle him; and when he looked at the graveyard he
remembered the last words of Conrad, and his hand clenched.

In the parsonage he found the parson and Conrad in earnest
conversation. The parson appeared to have given up the expectation of
his coming. He offered him a chair; but Michael answered, pointing to
his brother,--

"No offence to your reverence, but I never sit down where he is. Your
reverence hasn't been long in the village yet, and don't know his
tricks. He is a hypocritical doughface, but false and underhanded. All
the children imitate him," he continued, gnashing his teeth: "'How's
Mike coming on?'" and here he gave the well-known pantomime again.
"Your reverence," he went on, trembling with rage, "he is the cause of
all my mishap: he has ruined my peace at home, and so I have sold
myself to the devil for horses. You've prophesied it, you bloodhound!"
he roared at his brother: "I'll hang myself with a halter yet, but your
turn shall come first."

The parson gave the brothers time to vent their wrath, only exerting
his dignity so far as to prevent personal violence. He knew that after
their anger was poured out love must appear also; yet he was half
deceived.

At last the two brothers sat motionless and speechless, though
breathing hard. Then the parson began to speak words of kindness: he
opened all the secret corners of the heart, but in vain; they both
looked at the floor. He depicted the sufferings of their dead parents:
Conrad sighed, but did not look up. The parson gathered up all his
powers; his voice surged like that of an avenging prophet; he told them
how after death they would appear before the Lord's judgment-seat, and
how the Lord would cry, "Woe be unto you, ye hardened of heart! Ye have
lived in hatred, ye have withheld the grasp of a brother's hand from
each other: go, and suffer the torments of hell, riveted together!"

There was silence. Conrad wiped his eyes with his sleeve, got up from
his chair, and said, "Mike!"

The sound had been so long unheard that Mike started and looked up.
Conrad went up to him and said, "Mike, forgive me." The hands of the
brothers were firmly clasped, and the hand of the parson seemed to shed
a blessing on them both.

All the village rejoiced when Mike and Conrad were seen coming down the
little hill by the town-house, hand in hand.

They did not relinquish their grasp until they had reached home: it was
as if they desired to make