The next thing that the rabble saw as they
craned over the cliff was St. Piran floating quietly out to sea on the
millstone, for all the world as if on a life-belt, and untying his
bonds to use for a fishing-line! You see, this millstone had been made
of cork originally, and was only half petrified; and the old boy had
just beguiled them. When he had finished undoing the cords, he stood
up and bowed to them all very politely.
"Visible Manes av Support, me childher--merely Visible Manes av
Support!" he called back.
'Twas a sunshiny day, and while St. Piran chuckled the sea twinkled
all over with the jest. As for the crowd on the cliff, it looked
for five minutes as if the saint had petrified them harder than the
millstone. Then, as Tim Coolin told his wife, Mary Dogherty, that same
evening, they dispersed promiscuously in groups of one each.
Meanwhile, the tides were bearing St. Piran and his millstone out into
the Atlantic, and he whiffed for mackerel all the way. And on the
morrow a stiff breeze sprang up and blew him sou'-sou-west until he
spied land; and so he stepped ashore on the Cornish coast.
Pages:
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87