t up the vast image of the church in the
minds of his hearers. His deep, raucous voice had thrilled them as it
uttered the word of belief and submission. When Mrs. Kernan came into
the room, drying her hands she came into a solemn company. She did not
disturb the silence, but leaned over the rail at the foot of the bed.

"I once saw John MacHale," said Mr. Kernan, "and I'll never forget it as
long as I live."

He turned towards his wife to be confirmed.

"I often told you that?"

Mrs. Kernan nodded.

"It was at the unveiling of Sir John Gray's statue. Edmund Dwyer
Gray was speaking, blathering away, and here was this old fellow,
crabbed-looking old chap, looking at him from under his bushy eyebrows."

Mr. Kernan knitted his brows and, lowering his head like an angry bull,
glared at his wife.

"God!" he exclaimed, resuming his natural face, "I never saw such an eye
in a man's head. It was as much as to say: I have you properly taped, my
lad. He had an eye like a hawk."

"None of the Grays was any good," said Mr. Power.

There was a pause again. Mr. Power turned to Mrs. Kernan and said with
abrupt joviality:

"Well, Mrs. Kernan, we're going to make your man here a good holy pious
and God-fearing Roman Catholic."

He swept his arm round the company inclusively.

"We're all going to make a retreat together and confess our sins--and
God knows we want it badly."

"I don't mind," said Mr. Kernan, smiling a little nervously.

Mrs. Kernan thought it would be wiser to conceal her satisfaction. So
she said:

"I pity the poor priest that has to listen to your tale."

Mr. Kernan's expression changed.

"If he doesn't like it," he said bluntly, "he can... do the other thing.
I'll just tell him my little tale of woe. I'm not such a bad fellow----"

Mr. Cunningham intervened promptly.

"We'll all renounce the devil," he said, "together, not forgetting his
works and pomps."

"Get behind me, Satan!" said Mr. Fogarty, laughing and looking at the
others.

Mr. Power said nothing. He felt completely out-generalled. But a pleased
expression flickered across his face.

"All we have to do," said Mr. Cunningham, "is to stand up with lighted
candles in our hands and renew our baptismal vows."

"O, don't forget the candle, Tom," said Mr. M'Coy, "whatever you do."

"What?" said Mr. Kernan. "Must I have a candle?"

"O yes," said Mr. Cunningham.

"No, damn it all," said Mr. Kernan sensibly, "I draw the line there.
I'