Dannie threw wide the door, and
crossed her threshold with outstretched arms.
"Is it true?" he panted. "That thing Father Michael told me, is
it true? Will ye be mine, Mary Malone? At last will you be mine?
Oh, my girl, is the beautiful thing that the priest told me true?"
"THE BEAUTIFUL THING THAT THE PRIEST TOLD HIM!"
Mary Malone swung a chair before her, and stepped back. "Wait!"
she cried sharply. "There must be some mistake. Till me ixactly
what Father Michael told you?"
"He told me that Jimmy na held me responsible fra his death. That
he loved me when he died. That he was willing I should have ye!
Oh, Mary, wasna that splendid of him. Wasna he a grand mon? Mary,
come to me. Say that it's true! Tell me, if ye love me."
Mary Malone stared wide-eyed at Dannie, and gasped for breath.
Dannie came closer. At last he had found his tongue. "Fra the
love of mercy, if ye are comin' to me, come noo, Mary" he begged.
"My arms will split if they dinna get round ye soon, dear. Jimmy
told ye fra me, sixteen years ago, how I loved ye, and he told me
when he came back how sorry ye were fra me, and he--he almost
cried when he told me. I never saw a mon feel so. Grand old
Jimmy! No other mon like him!"
Mary drew back in desperation.
"You see here, Dannie Micnoun!" she screamed.
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