han na
Soggarth. Seaghan offered to put him into the right road, but instead of
doing so he led him to his house, and closed the door on him, and left
him there tied hand and foot. Seaghan's sister, who still clung to
religion, loosed the priest, and he fled, passing Seaghan, who was on
his way to fetch the soldiers. Seaghan followed after, and on they went
like hare and hound till they got to the abbey. There the priest, who
could run no further, turned on his foe, and they fought until the
priest got hold of Seaghan's knife and killed him with it.
'But you know the story. Why am I telling it to you?'
'I only know that the priest killed Seaghan. Is there any more of it?'
'Yes, there is more.'
And Father Oliver went on to tell it, though he did not feel that Father
Moran would be interested in the legend; he would not believe that it
had been prophesied that an ash-tree should grow out of the buried head,
and that one of the branches should take root and pierce Seaghan's
heart. And he was right in suspecting his curate's lack of sympathy.
Father Moran at once objected that the ash-tree had not yet sent down a
branch to pierce the priest-killer's heart.
'Not yet; but this branch nearly touches the ground, and there's no
saying that it won't take root in a few years.'
'But his heart is there no longer.'
'Well, no,' said Father Oliver, 'it isn't; but if one is to argue that
way, no one would listen to a story at all.'
Father Moran held his peace for a little while, and then he began
talking about the penal times, telling how religion in Ireland was
another form of love of country, and that, if Catholics were intolerant
to every form of heresy, it was because they instinctively felt that the
questioning of any dogma would mean some slight subsidence from the idea
of nationality that held the people together. Like the ancient Jews, the
Irish believed that the faith of their forefathers could bring them into
their ultimate inheritance; this was why a proselytizer was hated so
intensely.
'More opinions,' Father Oliver said to himself. 'I wonder he can't
admire that ash-tree, and be interested in the story, which is quaint
and interesting, without trying to draw an historical parallel between
the Irish and the Jews. Anyhow, thinking is better than drinking,' and
he jumped on his car. The last thing he heard was Moran's voice saying,
'He who betrays his religion betrays his country.'
'Confound the fellow, b
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