the yards was on him yet. But neither noticed it.
“Do you know where he has gone. Father Denis?”
“Whisht now! Take ut aisy, man.” The light tone did not run true. “There is over-much throuble in the worrld for us tu be tuckin’ up our trousers an’ wadin’ into ahl we see. Jimmie was mate tu ye. Now he will not be mate anny more. Ye must shmoke yer poipe on that, bhoy—an’ ut is not entoirely cowld comfort, ayther!”
“You don’t mean—for Heaven’s sake—he hasn’t———”
“Ye mean did he kill himself because there is blood laid tu his dure?” asked the priest, dryly. “I will answer for ut that he has not! He will be nursin’ his loife if I know anything ov Jimmie Blaine. For he has gone wid no absolution tu the dhirty sowl ov him. I cud not du much, him comin’ tu me in Confession; bhut I did what I cud. Ye will be cleared in a week, Ted, when he is over the say, or I cud not be tellin’ ye this much. An’ he will be havin’ a parcel ov careful years tu chew on his sins, for I did not lift the curse that was throublin’ him. Bhut—I was near afther givin’ him another wan tu set down besoide ut fur company———”
“Yer didn’t! Oh, yer didn’t do that ter Jimmie. You brute! Oh, you brute!”
“Tut-t-t! I wud not be takin’ that from ye
