"A message," exclaimed Ethel, "from them? What, from Girasole?"
"Yis. They want a praste, and they've sint for me."
"A priest?"
"Yis; an' they want a maid-servant to wait on the young leedies; and
they want thim immajitly; an' I'll have to start off soon. There's a
man dead among thim that wants to be put undherground to-night, for
the rist av thim are goin' off in the mornin'; an' accordin' to all I
hear, I wouldn't wondher but what I'd be wanted for somethin' else
afore mornin'."
"Oh, my God!" cried Ethel; "they're going to kill him, then!"
"Kill him! Kill who? Sure an' it's not killin' they want me for. It's
the other--it's marryin'."
"Marrying?" cried Ethel. "Poor, darling Minnie! Oh, you can not--you
will not marry them?"
"Sure an' I don't know but it's the best thing I can do--as things
are," said the priest.
"Oh, what shall I do! what shall I do!" moaned Ethel.
"Well, ye've got to bear up, so ye have. There's throubles for all of
us, an' lots av thim too; an' more'n some av us can bear."
Ethel sat in the darkest and bitterest grief for some time, a prey to
thoughts and fears that were perfect agony to her.
At last a thought came to her which made her start, and look up, and
cast at the priest a look full of wonder and entreaty. The priest
watched her with the deepest sympathy visible on his face.
"We must save them!" she cried.
"Sure an' it's me that made up me moind to that same," said the
priest, "only I didn't want to rise yer hopes.
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