Ye can do neither of those things."
"I can do both," said the priest calmly. "My son, that is what I
came to do."
Dannie's face grew whiter and whiter, as the blood receded, and
his big hands gripped at his sides.
"Aye, but ye canna!" he cried desperately. "Ye canna!"
"I can," said the priest. "Listen to me! Did Jimmy get anything
at all said to you?"
"He said, `Mary,' then he choked on the next word, then he gasped
out `yours,' and it was over."
"Have you any idea what he was trying to tell you?"
"Na!" answered Dannie. "He was mortal sick, and half delirious,
and I paid little heed. If he lived, he would tell me when he was
better. If he died, nothing mattered, fra I was responsible, and
better friend mon never had. There was nothing on earth Jimmy
would na have done for me. He was so big hearted, so generous! My
God, how I have missed him! How I have missed him!"
"Your faith in Jimmy is strong," ventured the bewildered priest,
for he did not see his way.
Dannie lifted his head. The sunshine was warming him, and his
thoughts were beginning to clear.
"My faith in Jimmy Malone is so strong," he said, "that if I lost
it, I never should trust another living mon. He had his faults to
others, I admit that, but he never had ony to me.
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