l wound, and that does not suit an old
priest, who is beginning to hear the murmurs of the eternal seas.

Father Letheby walked over across the moor to the "Great House." It was
growing dark when he left home, and he allowed himself a full hour, as
he had to make some calls by the way. One of these calls led him to a
house where an old woman was bedridden. Her son, a strong man of thirty
years or more, was doing something strange when the priest unexpectedly
entered. He was suffering from a scrofulous ulcer in the neck, and it
was a hideous disfigurement. He had just been standing before a broken
piece of looking-glass, stuck in the rough plaster of the wall; and he
hastily hid something as the priest entered. Father Letheby's suspicions
were instantly aroused. And he said hastily,--for he detested anything
like concealment,--

"What have you been doing?"

"Nothing, your reverence," said the peasant, nervously.

"Then, what are you hiding?" said Father Letheby.

"Nothing, your reverence," said the poor fellow.

"Tell the priest, Ned, alanna," said the old woman from her bed. "Sure,
't is only a charm which the good 'oman has set, Father. And it's cured
him already."

The young man scowled at his aged mother; and in response to an emphatic
gesture from the priest, he pulled out a little coil of rope, partly
worn at the end into a little wisp of flax.

"And are you such an utter fool," said the priest, angrily, holding the
rope gingerly between his fingers, "as to believe that that wretched
thing could cure you?"

"It _has_ cured me," said the young man. "Look here!"

Father Letheby looked; and sure enough, there was but a faint scar, as
of a burn, on the place where he knew well there had been a hideous
running ulcer a few days ago. He was struck dumb.

"I am not surprised," he said, recovering himself rapidly; "I know Satan
possesses supernatural power. But you, unhappy man, do you not know that
it is to the devil you owe your cure?"

"I told him so, your reverence," whimpered the poor mother. "I said,
better be sick forever, Ned, than break God's law. Sure, nothing good
can come from it."

"Thin why did God allow it?" said the young man, angrily.

"If you knew anything of your religion," said the priest, "you might
know that God permits evil things to happen. So much the worse for evil
doers. You have committed grave sin."

"But, sure, this is good," said the poor fellow, feebly groping after
theolog