They walked into the front room. It was really decent now. The home as well as the occupants had undergone a change.
"Mr. and Mrs. Daly," began the priest, "I want to congratulate you. You have a boy to be proud of. You have someone to live for. Willie is a hero. He has just saved two lives at a fire."
At the word fire, and at not seeing their boy along with the priest, a certain apprehension seized them both. Neither spoke for a moment, and then Daly said, "And where is the boy?"
"He is all right," answered the priest. "He got a few scratches and bruises, but it is nothing much. He is a real hero, and all the boys are talking about him. I just thought I'd be the first to bring you the news."
"Tell us about it, Father dear," exclaimed Mrs. Daly.
The priest now felt that the worst part of his task was over. In a reassuring tone he narrated all that had happened. He made up his mind to tell everything just as it was, because he felt it was better for them to get it from him and with him near, than in any other way.
When he got to the fall from the ladder, the mother screamed and fell back in her chair. The priest was not unprepared for this. He dashed cold water into her face, and soon she came to, moaning and uttering pious ejaculations for her son. By the time the priest was ready to leave, both father and mother were composed and resigned.
"You should thank God, both of you," said Father Boone to them, "that He has left you your boy. It is a lesson to all of us to live in such a way as to be always ready to meet God whenever He calls us out of life. Now you, Michael, no matter what happens, don't you ever think that the liquor will drown your sorrow. I'd rather see Willie a corpse than to see you drunk again."
"And so would I myself, so help me!" exclaimed Michael.
The priest nodded, satisfied that now Michael was out of the pit. He gave them the hospital address, and advised them not to go before the next day, unless they received a message. No news, he assured them, was good news.