"Just like brothers. That's what ye were, just like brothers. He, he, he!"
Although he did not detect the note of laughter in it that was hollow and a mockery, he was nevertheless appalled by what should appear as a commendation of him who was gone.... He felt himself shaking even as the leaves in the hedgerows were being shaken by the light wind of evening.
"Like brothers, avic machree."
Even still he did not reply.
"Like brothers, I say, and that's the whole story. For ye were brothers. At least you were of the one blood, because ye had the same woman for the mother of ye both."
Certainly she was raving, but her words were having an unusual effect upon him. He was keeping closer to the hedge as if trying to hide his face.
"To-night, me fine gosoon, I'm going to do a terrible thing. I'm going to tell you who your mother is, and then you'll know a quare story. You'll know that Ulick Shannon, good luck to him wherever he's gone, was nothing less than your own brother.... It is she that is after forcing me on to it be her penurious and miserly ways. I didn't want to tell ye, John! I say, I didn't want to tell ye!"
Her old, cracked voice trailed away into a high screech. John Brennan was like a man stunned by a blow as he waited for her to speak the rest of the story.
"Ulick Shannon's father, Henry Shannon, was the one your mother loved. She never cared for your father, nor he for her. So you might say you are no love child. But there was a love child in it to be sure, and that child was Ulick Shannon. Your mother was his mother. He was born out of wedlock surely, but he happened handy, and was put in the place of Grace Gogarty's child that died and it a weeshy, young thing.... It was your grandmother that sold him, God forgive her, if you want to know, for I was watching the deed being done.... Your mother always thought the bastard was murdered in the house and buried in the garden. I used to be forever tormenting her by making her think that only it was me could tell. There was no one knew it for certain in the whole world, only me and them that were dead and gone. So your mother could not have found out from any one but me, and she might never have found out only for the way she used to be refusing me of me little dues.... But I can tell you that she found out this evening how she was the mother of Ulick Shannon, and that you, the beloved son she cherished in her heart and put on in all her pride to be a priest of God, was a near blood relation of the boy she was never done but running down. The boy that she, above all others, with her prate and gab made a drunkard of in the first place, and then rushed on, be always talking of the like about him, to do great harm to this girl. But sure it was myself that could not blame him at all, for it was in him both ways, the poor, unfortunate gosoon!"
There was no reason to doubt the old shuiler's story, with such passionate vehemence did it fall from her. And its coherence was very convincing. It struck him as a greater blow which almost obliterated his understanding. In the first moment he could stand apart from it and look even blindly it appeared as the swift descent of Divine vengeance upon him for what he had just done.... He moved away, his mind a bursting tumult, and without a sight in his eyes.... The mocking laughter of Marse Prendergast rang in his ears. Now why was she laughing at him when it was his mother who was her enemy?