“Well,” said Shawn Ruadh, “I would like of all things to see the Pope of Rome, for two of our priests are disputing as to who is to get the parish, and I want Father M’Grath to have it, for I have a great opinion of him, and if I ask his Holiness he’ll settle it all in no time and for ever.”
“Come then,” said the black horseman; “it is a long way to Rome, certainly, but I think we’ll manage it in the two hours, and be back before twelve o’clock.”
So away they rode like the wind, and in no time Shawn found himself before the great palace of the Pope; and all the grand servants with gold sticks in their hands stared at him, and asked him what he wanted.
“Just go in,” said he, “and tell his Holiness that Shawn Ruadh, all the way from Ireland, is here and wants to see him very particularly.”
But the servants laughed, and struck him with their gold sticks and hunted him away from the gate. Now the Pope hearing the rout looked out of the window, and seeing Shawn Ruadh he came down and asked him what he wanted.
“Just this, your Holiness,” answered Shawn, “I want a letter on behalf of Father M’Grath bidding the Bishop give him the parish, and I’ll wait till your Holiness writes it; and meanwhile let me have a little supper, for it’s hungry I am after my long ride.”
Then the Pope laughed, and told the servants to drive the fellow away, for he was evidently out of his wits.
So Shawn grew angry, and flung down the stone on the floor, and instantly all the palace seemed on fire, and the Pope ordered the grand servants to go for water; and they had to run about like mad getting pails and jugs of water, whatever they could lay hands on; and all their fine clothes were spoiled, and the beautiful gold sticks were flung away in their fright, while they took the jugs and splashed and dashed the water over each other.
Now it was Shawn’s turn to laugh till his sides ached, but his Holiness looked very grave.
“Well,” said Shawn, “if I put out the fire what will you do for me? Will you write that letter?”