Part 24 (2/2)

Reilly looked at him with indignation. ”Surely,” thought he to himself, ”this man must be mad; his looks are wild, and the fire of insanity is in his eyes; if not, he is nothing less than an incarnation of ecclesiastical bigotry and folly. The man must be mad, or worse.” At length he addressed him.

”You doubt my integrity and my honor, then,” he replied haughtily.

”We doubt every man until he is bound by his oath.”

”You must continue to doubt me, then,” replied Reilly; ”for, most a.s.suredly, I will not take it.”

”You must take it, sir,” said the other, ”or you never leave the cavern which covers you,” and his eyes once more blazed as he uttered the words.

”Gentlemen,” said Reiliy, ”there appear to be fifteen or sixteen of you present: may I be permitted to ask why you suffer this unhappy man to be at large?”

”Will you take the oath, sir?” persisted the insane bishop in a voice of thunder--”heretic and devil, will you take the oath?”

”Unquestionably not. I will never take any oath that would imply want of honor in myself. Cease, then, to trouble me with it. I shall not take it.”

This last reply affected the bishop's reason so deeply that he looked about him strangely, and exclaimed, ”We are lost and betrayed. But here are angels--I see them, and will join in their blessed society,” and as he spoke, he rushed towards the stalact.i.tes in a manner somewhat wild and violent, so much so, indeed, that from an apprehension of his receiving injury in some of the dark interstices among them, they found it necessary, for his sake, to grapple with him for a few moments.

But, alas! they had very little indeed to grapple with. The man was but a shadow, and they found him in their hands as feeble as a child. He made no resistance, but suffered himself to be managed precisely as they wished. Two of the persons present took charge of him, one sitting on each side of him. Reilly, who looked on with amazement, now strongly blended with pity--for the malady of the unhappy ecclesiastic could no longer be mistaken--Reilly, we say, was addressed by an intelligent-looking individual, with some portion of the clerical costume about him.

”Alas! sir,” said he, ”it was not too much learning, but too much persecution, that has made him mad. That and the ascetic habits of his life have clouded or destroyed a great intellect and a good heart. He has eaten only one sparing meal a day during the last month; and though severe and self-denying to himself, he was, until the last week or so, like a father, and an indulgent one, to us all.”

At this moment the pale, mild-looking clergyman, to whom we have alluded, went over to where the bishop sat, and throwing himself upon his bosom, burst into tears. The sorrow indeed became infectious, and in a few minutes there were not many dry eyes around him. Father Maguire, who was ignorant of the progressive change that had taken place in him since his last visit to the cave, now wept like a child, and Reilly himself experienced something that amounted to remorse, when he reflected on the irreverent tone of voice in which he had replied to him.

The paroxysm, however, appeared to have pa.s.sed away; he was quite feeble, but not properly collected, though calm and quiet. After a little time he requested to be put to bed. And this leads us to the description of another portion of the cave to which we have not yet referred. At the upper end of the stalact.i.te apartment, which we have already described, there was a large projection of rock, which nearly divided it from the other, and which discharged the office of a wall, or part.i.tion, between the two apartments. Here there was a good fire kept, but only during the hours of night, inasmuch as the smoke which issued from a rent or cleft in the top of this apartment would have discovered them by day. Through this slight chasm, which was strictly concealed, they received provisions, water, and fuel. In fact, it would seem as if the whole cave had been expressly designed for the purpose to which it was then applied, or, at least for some one of a similar nature.

On entering this, Reilly found a good fire, on which was placed a large pot with a mess in it, which emitted a very savory odor. Around the sides, or walls of this rock, were at least a score of heather shake-down beds, the fragrance of which was delicious. Pots, pans, and other simple culinary articles were there, with a tolerable stock of provisions, not omitting a good-sized keg of mountain dew, which their secluded position, the dampness of the place, and their absence from free air, rendered very necessary and gratifying.

”Here!” exclaimed Father Maguire, after the feeble prelate had been a.s.sisted to this recess, ”here, now, put his lords.h.i.+p to bed; I have tossed it up for him in great style! I a.s.sure you, my dear friends, it's a shakedown fit for a prince!--and better than most of the thieves deserve. What bed of down ever had the sweet fragrance this flowery heather sends forth? Here, my lord--easy, now--lay him down gently, just as a mother would her sleeping child--for, indeed, he is a child,” he whispered, ”and as weak as a child; but a sound sleep will do him good, and he'll be a new man in the morning, please G.o.d.”

Upon this rough, but wholesome and aromatic couch, the exhausted prelate was placed, where he had not been many minutes until he fell into a profound sleep, a fact which gratified them very much, for they a.s.sured Reilly and the priest that he had slept but a few hours each night during the last week, and that such slumber as he did get was feverish and unquiet.

Our good-humored friend, however, was now cordially welcomed by these unfortunate ecclesiastics, for such, in fact, the majority of them were.

His presence seemed to them like a ray of light from the sun. His good humor, his excellent spirits, which nothing could repress, and his drollery kept them alive, and nothing was so much regretted by them as his temporary absences from time to time; for, in truth, he was their messenger, their steward, and their newsman--in fact, the only link that connected them with external life, and the ongoings of the world abroad.

The bed in which the bishop now slept was in a distant corner of this inner apartment, or dormitory, as it might be termed, because the situation was higher and drier, and consequently more healthy, as a sleeping-place, than any other which the rude apartment afforded.

The fire on which the large pot simmered was at least a distance of twenty-five yards from his bed, so that they could indulge in conversation without much risk of disturbing him.

It is unnecessary to say that Reilly and his friend Father Maguire felt, by this time, a tolerably strong relish for something in the shape of sustenance--a relish which was exceedingly sharpened by the savory smell sent forth throughout the apartment by the contents of whatsoever was contained in the immense pot.

”My dear brethren,” said the priest, ”let us consider this cavern as a rich monastery; such, alas! as existed in the good days of old, when the larder and refectory were a credit to religion and a relief to the dest.i.tute, but which, alas!--and alas! again--we can only think of as a--in the meantime, I can stand this no longer. If I possess judgment or penetration in _re culinaria_, I am of opinion,” he added (stirring up the contents of it), ”that it is fit to be operated on; so, in G.o.d's name, let us have at it.”

In a few minutes two or three immense pewter dishes were heaped with a stew made up of mutton, bacon, hung beef, onions, and potatoes, forming indeed a most delicious mess for any man, much less the miserable men who were making it disappear so rapidly.

Reilly, the very picture of health, after maintaining a pace inferior to that of none, although there were decidedly some handy workmen there, now was forced to pull up and halt. In the meantime some slow but steady operations went on with a perseverance that was highly creditable; and it was now that, having a little agreeable leisure to observe and look about him, he began to examine the extraordinary costumes of the incongruous society in which, to his astonishment, he found himself a party. We must, however, first account for the oddness and incongruity of the apparent characters which they were forced to a.s.sume.

At this period the Catholics of Ireland were indeed frightfully oppressed. A proclamation had recently been issued by the Government, who dreaded, or pretended to dread, an insurrection--by which doc.u.ment convents and monasteries were suppressed--rewards offered for the detection and apprehension of ecclesiastics, and for the punishment of such humane magistrates as were reluctant to enforce laws so unsparing and oppressive. Increased rewards were also offered to spies and informers, with whom the country unfortunately abounded. A general disarming of all Catholics took place; domiciliary visits were made in quest of bishops, priests, and friars, and all the chapels in the country were shut up. Many of the clergy flew to the metropolis, where they imagined they might be more safe, and a vast number to caverns and mountains, in order to avoid the common danger, and especially from a wholesome, terror of that cla.s.s of men called priest-hunters.

The Catholic peasantry having discovered their clergy in these wild retreats, flocked to them on Sundays and festivals, in order to join in private--not public-wors.h.i.+p, and to partake of the rites and sacraments of their Church.

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