his holiness the Pope, successor to St. Peter, who left the servant of the Centurion earless—­I command and objurgate thee, sinner as thou art, to vacate your seat on the hob for the man of sancity, whose legitimate possession it is, otherwise I shall send you, like that worthy archbishop, the aforesaid Nebuchadanezar, to live upon leeks for seven years in the renowned kingdom of Wales, where the leeks may be seen to this day!  Presto!”

These words, pronounced with a grave face, in a loud, rapid, and sonorous tone of voice, startled the good people of the house, who sat mute and astonished at such an exordium from the worthy pastor:  but no sooner had he uttered Brian Buie’s name, giving him, at the same time, a fierce and authoritative look, than the latter started to his feet, and stepped down in a kind of alarm towards the door.  The priest immediately placed his hand upon his shoulder in a mysterious manner, exclaiming—­

“Don’t be alarmed, Brian, I have taken the force of the anathema off you; your power to sit or stand, or go where you please, is returned again.  I wanted your seat, and Denis desired, me to excommunicate you out of it, which I did, and you accordingly left it without your own knowledge, consent, or power; I transferred you to where you stand, and you had no more strength to resist me than if you were an infant not three hours in the world!”

“I ax God’s pardon, an’ your Reverence’s,” said Brian, in a tremor, “if I have given offince.  Now, bless my soul! what’s this?  As sure as I stand before you, neighbors, I know neither act nor part of how I was brought from the hob at all—­neither act nor part!  Did any of yez see me lavin’ it; or how did I come here—­can you tell me?”

“Paddy,” said one of his friends, “did you see him?”

“The sorra one o’ me seen him,” replied Paddy:  “I was lookin’ at his Reverence, sthrivin’ to know what he was sayin’.”

“Pether, did you?” another inquired.  “Me!  I never seen a stim of him till he was standin’ alone on the flure!  Sure, when he didn’t see or find himself goin’, how could another see him?”

“Glory be to God!” exclaimed Mave; “one ought to think well what they say, when they spake of the clargy, for they don’t know what it may bring down upon them, sooner or later!”

“Our Denis will be able to do that yet,” said Susan to her elder sister.

“To be sure he will, girsha, as soon as he’s ordained—­every bit as well as Father Finnerty,” replied Mary.

The young enthusiast’s countenance brightened as her sister spoke:  her dark eye became for a minute or two fixed upon vacancy, during which it flashed several times; until, as the images of her brother’s future glory passed before her imagination; she became wrapt—­her lip quivered—­her cheek flushed into a deeper color, and the tears burst in gushes from her eyes.

The mother, who was now engaged in welcoming Father Finnerty—­a duty which the priest’s comic miracle prevented her from performing sooner—­did not perceive her daughter’s agitation, nor, in fact, did any one present understand its cause.  Whilst the priest was taking Brian Buie’s seat, she went once more to watch the return of Denis; and while she stood upon the stile, her father, after having put up the horse, entered the house, “to keep his Reverence company.”