“I would not persecute a stranger, God forbid!” replied the verger, “if he was, as you say, inoffensive.”
“And if he was not only inoffensive, but ready to do every service in his power to those who are in want of his assistance, we should not return evil for good, should we?”
“That would be uncharitable, to be sure; and, moreover, a scandal,” said the verger.
“Then,” said Mr. Marshal, “will you walk with me as far as the Widow Smith’s, the poor woman whose house was burnt last winter? This haymaker, who lodged near her, can show us the way to her present abode.”
During his examination of Paddy M’Cormack, who would tell his whole history, as he called it, out of the face, Mr. Marshal heard several instances of the humanity and goodness of O’Neill, which Paddy related to excuse himself for that warmth of attachment to his cause that had been manifested so injudiciously by pulling down the rick of bark in revenge for the rest. Amongst other things, Paddy mentioned his countryman’s goodness to the Widow Smith. Mr. Marshal was determined, therefore, to see whether he had, in this instance, spoken the truth; and he took Hill with him, in hopes of being able to show him the favourable side of O’Neill’s character.
Things turned out just as Mr. Marshal expected. The poor widow and her family, in the most simple and affecting manner, described the distress from which they had been relieved by the good gentleman; and lady—the lady was Phœbe Hill; and the praises that were bestowed upon Phœbe were delightful to her father’s ear, whose angry passions had now all subsided.
The benevolent Mr. Marshal seized the moment when he saw Mr. Hill’s heart was touched, and exclaimed, “I must be acquainted with this Mr. O’Neill. I am sure we people of Hereford ought to show some hospitality to a stranger who has so much humanity. Mr. Hill, will you dine with him to-morrow at my house?”
Mr. Hill was just going to accept of this invitation, when the recollection of all he had said to his club about the hole under the cathedral came across him, and, drawing Mr. Marshal aside, he whispered, “But, sir, sir, that affair of the hole under the cathedral has not been cleared up yet.”
At this instant the Widow Smith exclaimed, “Oh! here comes my little Mary” (one of her children, who came running in); “this is the little girl, sir, to whom the lady has been so good. Make your curtsey, child. Where have you been all this while?”
“Mammy,” said the child, “I’ve been showing the lady my rat.”