While he was talking there came a man to the door who beckoned him out. He went out, and was gone for some time. He came back at last, looking very serious.
"I've just got a missage from thim," said he.
"A message," exclaimed Ethel, "from them? What, from Girasole?"
"Yis. They want a praste, and they've sint for me."
"A priest?"
"Yis; an' they want a maid-servant to wait on the young leedies; and they want thim immajitly; an' I'll have to start off soon. There's a man dead among thim that wants to be put undherground to-night, for the rist av thim are goin' off in the mornin'; an' accordin' to all I hear, I wouldn't wondher but what I'd be wanted for somethin' else afore mornin'."
"Oh, my God!" cried Ethel; "they're going to kill him, then!"
"Kill him! Kill who? Sure an' it's not killin' they want me for. It's the other—it's marryin'."
"Marrying?" cried Ethel. "Poor, darling Minnie! Oh, you can not—you will not marry them?"
"Sure an' I don't know but it's the best thing I can do—as things are," said the priest.