The priests walked on again, and Father Oliver fell to thinking now what might be the end of this adventure. He could see there was no hope of persuading Father Moran from the bottle of whisky.
'What time do you be making it, Gogarty?'
'It isn't ten o'clock yet.'
'Then I'll walk up and down till the stroke of twelve ... I'll keep my promise to you.'
'But they'll all be in bed by twelve. What will you do then?'
Father Moran didn't give Father Gogarty an answer, but started off again, and this time he was walking very fast; and when they got as far as Regan's public-house Father Oliver took his friend by the arm, reminding him again of his promise.
'You promised not to disgrace the parish.'
'I said that.... Well, if it's walking your heart is set upon, you shall have your bellyful of it.'
And he was off again like a man walking for a wager. But Father Oliver, who wouldn't be out-walked, kept pace with him, and they went striding along, walking without speaking.
Full of ruts and broken stones, the road straggled through the hills, and Father Oliver wondered what would happen when they got to the top of the hill. For the sea lay beyond the hill. The road bent round a shoulder of the hill, and when Father Oliver saw the long road before him his heart began to fail him, and a cry of despair rose to his lips; but at that moment Moran stopped.