With this preface, he flattened out the somewhat crumpled piece of paper, and read aloud:
‘"To His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, the true-born descendant of the House of Stuart, and rightful heir to the Crown of England, the humble and dutiful petition of Mary Fitzgerald, of Cappa-Glyn, in the County Kildare, Ireland———”
‘Eh, what?’ cried he suddenly; for a scarcely audible murmur proclaimed something like dissent or correction.
‘I was thinking, Fra Luke,’ said she mildly, ‘if it wouldn’t be better not to say “of Cappa-Glyn.” ‘Tis gone away from us now for ever, and—and——’
‘What matter—it was yours once. Your ancestors owned it for hundreds and hundreds of years; and if you’re not there now, neither is he himself where he ought to be.’
The explanation seemed conclusive, and he went on:
‘"County Kildare, Ireland. Ay! May it please your illustrious Royal Highness—The only sister of Grace Géraldine, now in glory with the saints, implores your royal favour for the orphan boy that survives her. Come from a long way off, in great distress of mind and body, she has no friend but your highness and the Virgin Mary—that was well known never deserted nor forsook them that stood true to your royal cause—and being in want, and having no shelter or refuge, and seeing that Gerald himself, with the blood in his veins that he has, and worthy of being what your Royal Highness knows he is—”
‘That’s mighty delicately expressed, ye see, not to give offence,’ said the friar, with a most complacent smile at his dexterity—
‘”——hasn’t as much as a rag of clothes under his student’s gown, nor a pair of shoes, barring the boots that the sub-rector lent him; without a shirt to his back, or a cross in his pocket; may at a minute’s warning be sent away from the college by reason of his great distress—having no home to go to, nor any way to live, but to starve and die in nakedness, bringing everlasting disgrace on your royal house, and more misery to her who subscribes herself in every humility and contrite submission, your Royal Highness’s most dutiful, devoted, and till death release her from sorrows, ever attached servant, Mary Fitzgerald.”
‘I didn’t put any address,’ said the Fra, ‘for, you see, this isn’t one of the genteelest quarters of the town. Here they are, Mrs. Mary—here they are!’ cried he suddenly, and while he spoke, the hasty tramp of many feet and the discordant voices of many people talking noisily was heard from without.