The Miraculous Revenge | Page 7

I will withdraw."
"I don't care whether you go or stay, I'm sure. I wonder what you would
give to be as fine a man as Mr. Langan?"
"All I possess: I swear it! But solely because you admire tall men more
than broad views. Mr. Langan may be defined geometrically as length
without breadth; altitude without position; a line on the landscape, not a
point in it."
"How very clever you are!"
"You don't understand me, I see. Here comes your lover, stepping over
the wall like a camel. And here go I out through the gate like a
Christian. Good afternoon, Mr. Langan. I am going because Miss
Hickey has something to say to you about me which she would rather
not say in my presence. You will excuse me?"
"Oh, I'll excuse you," he said boorishly. I smiled, and went out. Before
I was out of hearing, Kate whispered vehemently to him, "I hate that
fellow."
I smiled again; but I had scarcely done so when my spirits fell. I
walked hastily away with a coarse threatening sound in my ears like
that of the clarionets whose sustained low notes darken the woodland in
"Der Frieschutz." I found myself presently at the graveyard. It was a
barren place, enclosed by a mud wall with a gate to admit funerals, and
numerous gaps to admit peasantry, who made short cuts across it as
they went to and fro between Four Mile Water and the market town.
The graves were mounds overgrown with grass: there was no keeper;
nor were there flowers, railings, or any other conventionalities that
make an English graveyard repulsive. A great thornbush, near what was
called the grave of the holy sisters, was covered with scraps of cloth
and flannel, attached by peasant women who had prayed before it.
There were three kneeling there as I enterd; for the reputation of the

place had been revived of late by the miracle; and a ferry had been
established close by, to conduct visitors over the route taken by the
graveyard. From where I stood I could see on the opposite bank the
heap of stones, perceptibly increased since my last visit, marking the
deserted grave of Brimstone Billy. I strained my eyes broodingly at it
for some minutes, and then descended the river bank and entered the
boat.
"Good evenin t'your honor," said the ferryman, and set to work to draw
the boat over hand by a rope stretched across the water.
"Good evening. Is your business beginning to fall off yet?"
"Faith, it never was as good as it might a been. The people that comes
from the south side can see Billy's grave--Lord have mercy on
him!--across the wather; and they think bad of payin a penny to put a
stone over him. It's them that lives towrst Dublin that makes the
journey. Your honor is the third I've brought from the south to north
this blessed day."
"When do most people come? In the afternoon, I suppose?"
"All hours, sur, except afther dusk. There isn't a sowl in the counthry
ud come within sight of the grave wanst the sun goes down."
"And you! do you stay here all night by yourself?"
"The holy heavens forbid! Is it me stay here all night? No, your honor:
I tether the boat at siven o'hlyock, and lave Brimstone Billy--God
forgimme!--to take care of it t'll mornin."
"It will be stolen some night, I'm afraid."
"Arra, who'd dar come next or near it, let alone stale it? Faith, I'd think
twice before lookin at it meself in the dark. God bless your honor, an
gran'che long life."
I had given him sixpence. I went on to the reprobate's grave and stood

at the foot of it, looking at the sky, gorgeous with the descent of the sun.
To my English eyes, accustomed to giant trees, broad lawns, and stately
mansions, the landscape was wild and inhospitable. The ferryman was
already tugging at the rope on his way back (I had told him that I did
not intend to return that way), and presently I saw him make the painter
fast to the south bank; put on his coat; and trudge homeward. I turned
to the grave at my feet. Those who had interred Brimstone Billy,
working hastily at an unlawful hour and in fear of molestation by the
people, had hardly dug a grave. They had scooped out earth enough to
hide their burden, and no more. A stray goat had kicked away the
corner of the mound and exposed the coffin. It occurred to me, as I took
some of the stones from the cairn, and heaped them to repair the breach,
that had the miracle been the work of a body of men, they would have