North, South and Over the Sea

by M. E. Francis

The explanation that the McEvoys' goat, which had been tethered on the hill, had broken loose and clambered up the ruined wall did not seem to him to have any bearing on the case. It was his belief that the "Ould Boy" had somewhat prematurely appeared to claim him; and his most anxious endeavour was to cheat him of his due. So Peter accomplished deeds which, under other circumstances, would have been impossible to him. He made his will to begin with, leaving a good deal of money in charity, and the bulk of his fortune to Roseen; he left directions that the Clancys were to be reinstated in their cabin and emphatically announced that he forgave Mike. When this last item, by the way, was reported to Pat, the old man's indignation knew no bounds.

Peter's last hours were not, however, disturbed by any hint as to the Clancys' attitude, and it was with the most peaceful and resigned disposition that he, at last, betook himself to another world, with the full assurance that it would prove a better one.

When Roseen had in some measure recovered from the shock of her grandfather's death, her thoughts turned at once to the Clancys. One of the family indeed had never been absent from them, and it was with surprise and indignation that she learnt that old Peter's forgiveness would in no manner affect Mike's actual position. The crime of which he was accused was so serious in character that he would have to await his trial at the approaching Sessions.

For his parents, however, something could be done, and Roseen, now finding herself mistress of Monavoe and all who dwelt there, proceeded to give orders right and left with an assurance which surprised those who had formerly known her. Injunctions were issued that the Clancys' cottage should be re-roofed and made habitable without delay, and, meanwhile, she announced her intention of taking the old couple to live with her at Monavoe. Many were the jokes and comments made upon this act of hers; a few people of what had now become her own standing in the neighbourhood offered her sage pieces of advice; some of her former cronies laughed and inquired if she were going to set up a home for incurables, as what between ould Judy that had no sense to speak of, an' Pat Clancy with ne'er a sound limb in his body, and his wife, God help her! hardly able to crawl with rheumatics, she would have her hands full up there. Roseen thanked her advisers kindly and laughed with the jokers, and went her own way.

One fine morning, her smart outside car drove up to the hospitable cabin which had sheltered the Clancys, and Pat and his wife were with some difficulty hoisted on to it. Some twenty or thirty neighbours kindly escorted them, "to hould them on for fear they might fall, the craturs!" With a deal of shouting and huzzahing, the little procession halted at length at Monavoe, where Roseen's health was drunk in due form, and then Mike's, and then Pat's, and then Mrs. Clancy's, and then Roseen's again; and at last the escort went reluctantly homewards, and Roseen conveyed her charges to the apartment she destined for them. It was a comfortable room on the ground floor, larger than the whole of the Clancys' former dwelling, which, nevertheless, it resembled oddly in many particulars. For, lo and behold! there in the corner stood their own venerable four-poster, and drawn up by the hearth was Pat's particular elbow-chair; all their possessions were there in fact, Roseen having carefully collected them previous to installing their owners—not even the little creepy-stool was absent.

Pat Clancy, who had maintained a certain dignified reserve all day, not quite liking the notion of being regarded as Roseen's pensioner, and not being certain whether this new move did not involve a sacrifice of independence, was now fairly overcome. "God bless you, me child!" he said brokenly, "ye were always the good little girl, Roseen. Herself and me will be quite at home here."

"Ah then, musha, look at me pot," cried Mrs. Clancy, who had been troubled by no scruples and whose tongue had been wagging freely during the course of their transit to Monavoe. "Look at me own i-dentical pot that has biled for me ever since we got married! I declare I could very near kiss it! I could never fancy any stir-about the same as what come out o' that pot! And there's the dresser an' all me cups and saucers widout so much as a crack on them. Well now, who'd ever fancy anybody that thoughtful? Sure we'll be in clover here—if only we had poor Mike out o' gaol!"

"He'll be out soon, never fear," cried Roseen. "We'll get a grand clever lawyer from Dublin to come an' spake for him, see if we don't. But rest yourself now, Mr. Clancy, ye'll be tired afther the drive. Maybe Mrs. Clancy would like to wet a grain o' tay for ye. Ye'll find plenty there, ma'am, in the little caddy, an' I'll send up Judy with a bit o' griddle cake."

"God bless ye, alanna!" said Mrs. Clancy, with shining eyes; "I'll set on me own little kettle this minute; it's a grand little wan to bile in a hurry, an' I'll make himself a cup of tay in no time."

Roseen withdrew with a bright nod, her innate delicacy prompting her to leave the couple to themselves for a time. Mrs. Clancy's own particular little rusty kettle was soon singing merrily on the hob, and Judy presently appeared with the griddle cake and a roll of butter of Roseen's own making.