Popular Irish Stories (1850)/The Priest and the Robber
THE PRIEST AND THE ROBBER.
In the province of Ulster, about fifty years ago, there lived a priest whose life was spent in administering relief to those in distress; so that by the amiableness of his character, he had gained the respect and esteem of all the country round. He was sent for to a robber to prepare him for death, and was shut up in a small chapel along with him. While endeavouring by the most pious persuasions to excite him to repentance, he observed him apparently absorbed in thought, and paying no attention to his discourse. "Are you aware," said the priest, "that you must soon appear before your great Creator?"—"I know that," returned the robber; "but I also know that you can save my life."—"How can that be?" said the priest. "You have only," rejoined the poor wretch, "to set your chair on the altar, and by your getting on it, I can reach the top by the help of your shoulders."—"And," said the priest, "do you think I shall be accessary to your escape, which may be the means of your committing new crimes?"—"Indeed," said the robber, "you need not be afraid of that, I have seen the gibbet too near me to expose myself to such danger again." The priest, actuated by the impulse of a feeling heart, and strengthened by the earnest protestations of repentance in the unhappy criminal who was about to suffer, at length consented to favour his escape, and in a few minutes the robber was clear of the prison.
Shortly after, the executioner came to warn the unfortunate man of his hour being come; but what was his surprise when he opened the door, and found the priest sitting alone in the chapel. He immediately alarmed the judges, and brought them to the spot. "What is become of the prisoner," said they, "that was left with you?"—"He must be an angel," returned the priest coolly, "for, upon the faith of a christian, he flew out of the window," pointing to the window in the roof of the chapel; "and I am going to recommend myself to his protection." The judges could not preserve their gravity at what they heard the good man relate, but wishing the supposed angel a pleasant journey, went away.
Some years after this, as the priest was travelling in the county of Wicklow, he lost his way, just as the sun had sunk beneath the horizon. He was accosted by a sort of peasant, who, after examining him attentively, told him the road he was travelling was a very dangerous one, and as the night had set in, if he would accompany him, he would conduct him to a house convenient, where he might pass the night in safety.
The priest was at a loss how to act; the curiosity visible in the peasant's conduct excited his suspicion, but considering if he had a bad design in view, that it was impossible for him to escape, he with a trembling heart followed. They had not walked far until they reached a farm-house, which the poor priest beheld with joy; but the suspicion which the peasant's curiosity had first raised in his breast, was entirely removed when he found he was the proprietor, and heard him tell his wife to kill a capon, with some of her chickens, and to welcome his guest with the best cheer. Whilst the good woman was preparing supper, the countryman came into the room followed by a group of beautiful children. "Pour forth your grateful thanks, my little children," said he, as the tear of gratitude started from his eye, "for to this worthy man your father owes his existence." The priest immediately recognized the features of the robber, whose escape he had favoured some years before; he inquired how he came to be so well provided for; on which he related to him as follows:—
"I told you if you assisted me in escaping I would lead a new life. I begged my way to this part of the country, which is my native place, and engaged in the service of the owner of this farm. By strict fidelity and attachment to the interest of my master, in a short time I gained his entire confidence and esteem, and such was his regard for me, that he gave me his only daughter in marriage. God has blessed my endeavours ever since, and I have amassed a little money, and I entreat you to accept of it. I shall now die content, since I have had it in my power, by this small tribute, to testify my gratitude towards the man who saved my life."
"I am well repaid," replied the priest, "for the service I have rendered you, and prize your repentance more than all the riches you can bestow. Continue in your present upright course of life, and you will be rewarded hereafter."
The peasant pressed him to accept of some recompense, but he would not; he consented, however, to remain a few days in the house, during all which time he entertained him with the greatest hospitality.
The time of the priest's departure at last arrived. It was with the greatest reluctance that the countryman could persuade him to make use at least of one of his horses to finish his journey. The priest set out, and the peasant would not quit him until he had traversed the dangerous roads that abound in those parts.