sinking down deeper and deeper into that abyss of despair from
which he had but recently extricated himself.
And still the time passed, and the precious moments, laden with the
fate not only of Hawbury, but of all the others--the moments of the
night during which alone any escape was to be thought of--moved all
too swiftly away.
Now in this hour of perplexity the good priest bethought him of a
friend whose fidelity had been proved through the varied events of a
life--a friend which, in his life of celibacy, had found in his heart
something of that place which a fond and faithful wife may hold in the
heart of a more fortunate man. It was a little friend, a fragrant
friend, a tawny and somewhat grimy friend; it was in the pocket of his
coat; it was of clay; in fact, it was nothing else than a dudeen.
Where in the world had the good priest who lived in this remote corner
of Italy got that emblem of his green native isle? Perhaps he had
brought it with him in the band of his hat when he first turned his
back upon his country, or perhaps he had obtained it from the same
quarter which had supplied him with that very black plug of tobacco
which he brought forth shortly afterward. The one was the complement
of the other, and each was handled with equal love and care. Soon the
occupation of cutting up the tobacco and rubbing it gave a temporary
distraction to his thoughts, which distraction was prolonged by the
further operation of pressing the tobacco into the bowl of the dudeen.
Here the priest paused and cast a longing look toward the fire, which
was not far away.
"Would you have any objection to let me go and get a coal to light the
pipe?" said he to one of the men.
The man had an objection, and a very strong one.
"Would one of you be kind enough to go and get me a brand or a hot
coal?"
This led to an earnest debate, and finally one of the men thought that
he might venture. Before doing so, however, a solemn promise was
extorted from the priest that he would not try to escape during his
absence. This the priest gave.
"Escape!" he said--"it's a smoke I want. Besides, how can I escape
with three of ye watching me? And then, what would I want to escape
for? I'm safe enough here."
The man now went off, and returned in a short time with a brand. The
priest gave him his blessing, and received the brand with a quiet
exultation that was pleasing to behold.
"Matches," said he, "ruin the smoke. They give it a
|