An unusual sight in that part of the country now presented itself to
view. Slowly moving along the road was a crowd of men and women--the
men, as they came up, taking off their hats, and the women courtesying,
in that way that only Catholics can courtesy, to a young gentleman, who,
seated in a one-horse carriage, the top lowered down, seemed to be
engaged, as he was, in earnest conversation about some subject of an
absorbing interest to those around him. In truth, any body, even Amanda,
who never saw one, could have guessed that this personage, surrounded by
so many of the Irish railroad laborers lately settled in the vicinity,
was no other than the Catholic priest. Paul's eye, so lately kindled
into passion from the hints dropped by Amanda about the foul play
regarding his letters, became immediately subdued into composure, and,
taking out a small miniature reliquary and silver crucifix which he ever
wore on his breast, he pressed them to his lips, saying to himself,
"Glory be to God; and Mary, his virgin mother, be ever blessed. I see
the priest, if he is alive." And instantly he was over the fence and on
the road.

"There is one of 'em," said Mrs. Murphy, "your reverence; and it would
be a charity to do something for the poor children, for they were well
reared."

Paul could not, owing to the tears that rushed on him in floods, dare
for some time to join the crowd to offer his respects to the
representative of religion; and it was a full quarter of an hour before
he could say, "Welcome to these parts, your reverence."

"Thank you, my child," said the priest, reaching him his hand.

"Forgive me, sir," said the poor youth; "I can't but weep, 'tis so long
since I saw a priest or heard mass."

There was not a dry eye in the crowd as the young lad clung to the
priest's hand, embracing it, and crying aloud, "O my uncle! my uncle!"

"Take him into the shanty and calm him a little," said the stalwart
missionary. "Poor little fellow! poor child! poor child!"

"O, God help the orphan!" said Mrs. Murphy again, fearing she had not
touched his reverence's heart. "It would be the charity of God to do
something for them. The men would be all willing to subscribe."

"We will do all we can," said his reverence. "God will provide for them,
if they be what you represent. Meet me here to-morrow, at six o'clock.
We will have mass and confessions here in the shanty, as we could
procure no better place. Give word around through th