France," said the sheehogue, "and you must come with us now."
"The devil a foot," said Guleesh, "till I get the priest's pardon; the honestest and the pleasantest man that's in Ireland."
Another sheehogue spoke then, and said:
"Don't be so hard on Guleesh. The boy's a kind boy, and he has a good heart; and as he doesn't wish to come without the Pope's bull, we must do our best to get it for him. He and I will go in to the Pope, and ye can wait here."
"A thousand thanks to you," said Guleesh. "I'm ready to go with you; for this priest, he was the sportingest and the pleasantest man in the world."
"You have too much talk, Guleesh," said the sheehogue, "but come along now. Get off your horse and take my hand."
Guleesh dismounted, and took his hand; and then the little man said a couple of words he did not understand, and before he knew where he was he found himself in the room with the Pope.
The Pope was sitting up late that night reading a book that he liked. He was sitting on a big soft chair, and his two feet on the chimney-board. There was a fine fire in the grate, and a little table standing at his elbow, and a drop of ishka-baha (eau-de-vie) and sugar on the little tableeen; and he never felt till Guleesh came up behind him.
"Now Guleesh," said the sheehogue, "tell him that unless he gives you the bull you'll set the room on fire; and if he refuses it to you, I'll spurt fire round about out of my mouth, till he thinks the place is really in a blaze, and I'll go bail he'll be ready enough then to give you the pardon."
