The Miraculous Revenge | Page 5

will report to you the true state of affairs in a few days; and you can then make arrangements for transferring Hickey from the altar to the asylum."
"Yes I had intended to send you. You are wonderfully sharp; and you would make a capital detective if you could only keep your mind to one point. But your chief qualifications for this business is that you are too crazy to excite the suspicion of those whom you have to watch. For the affair may be a trick. If so, I hope and believe that Hickey has no hand in it. Still, it is my duty to take every precaution."
"Cardinal: may I ask whether traces of insanity have ever appeared in our family?"
"Except in you and in my grandmother, no. She was a Pole; and you resemble her personally. Why do you ask?"
"Because it has often occurred to me that you are perhaps a little cracked. Excuse my candor; but a man who has devoted his life to the pursuit of a red hat; who accuses everyone else beside himself of being mad; and is disposed to listen seriously to a tale of a peripatetic graveyard, can hardly be quite sane. Depend upon it, uncle, you want rest and change. The blood of your Polish grandmother is in your veins."
"I hope I may not be committing a sin in sending a ribald on the church's affairs," he replied, fervently. "However, we must use the instruments put into our hands. Is it agreed that you go?"
"Had you not delayed me with the story, which I might as well have learned on the spot, I should have been there already."
"There is no occasion for impatience, Zeno. I must send to Hickey and find a place for you. I shall tell him you are going to recover your health, as, in fact, you are. And, Zeno, in Heaven's name be discreet. Try to act like a man of sense. Do not dispute with Hickey on matters of religion. Since you are my nephew, you had better not disgrace me."
"I shall become an ardent Catholic, and do you infinite credit, uncle."
"I wish you would, although you would hardly be an acquisition to the Church. And now I must turn you out. It is nearly three o'clock; and I need some sleep. Do you know your way back to your hotel?"
"I need not stir. I can sleep in this chair. Go to bed, and never mind me."
"I shall not close my eyes until you are safely out of the house. Come, rouse yourself and say good-night."
* * * * *
The following is a copy of my first report to the Cardinal:--
"Four Mile Water, County Wicklow, 10th August.
"My Dear Uncle,
"The miracle is genuine. I have affected perfect credulity in order to throw the Hickeys and countryfolk off their guard with me. I have listened to their method of convincing the sceptical strangers. I have examined the ordnance maps, and cross-examined the neighboring Protestant gentlefolk. I have spent a day upon the ground on each side of the water, and have visited it at midnight. I have considered the upheaval theories, subsidence theories, volcanic theories, and tidal wave theories which the provincial savants have suggested. They are all untenable. There is only one scoffer in the district, an Orangeman; and he admits the removal of the cemetery, but says it was dug up and transplanted in the night by a body of men under the command of Father Tom. This is also out of the question. The interment of Brimstone Billy was the first which had taken place for four years; and his is the only grave which bears the trace of recent digging. It is alone on the north bank; and the inhabitants shun it after night fall. As each passer-by during the day throws a stone upon it, it will soon be marked by a large cairn. The graveyard, with a ruined stone chapel still standing in its midst, is on the south side. You may send down a committee to investigate the matter as soon as you please. There can be no doubt as to the miracle having actually taken place, as recorded by Hickey. As for me, I have grown so accustomed to it that if the county Wicklow were to waltz off with me to Middlesex, I should be quite impatient of any expression of surprise from my friends in London.
"Is not the above a businesslike statement? Away, then, with this stale miracle. If you would see for yourself a miracle which can never pall, a vision of youth and health to be crowned with garlands for ever, come down and see Kate Hickey, whom you suppose to be a little girl. Illusion, my lord cardinal, illusion! She is seventeen, with a bloom and