"I despair of finding her," said the butler.
"Despair is sinful, my son," replied the friar; "misfortunes are sent to try us, and we ought to bear them with resignation, and without uttering a single murmur."
"But I thought you were even now complaining of being hungry, father?" said Abelard with the utmost simplicity.
"True, true!" replied the priest, a little disconcerted by this remark; "but—but—"
"It is one thing to preach, and another to practise," resumed the butler, smiling; "is it not, father? However, I certainly heard a noise; and if any one finds us here, we shall be ruined."
"Och! never mind that," said Father Murphy; "for that we are already, ye know."
"Who have we here?" cried some soldiers, who now descended into the cave; and who as before-mentioned, were particularly alert in performing their duty in examining all strangers.
"And is it me ye are asking that?" demanded Father Murphy—"for if it is, it's of no manner of use; for if I were to set about telling you, it's a hundred to one if ever ye got to the bottom of it."
"Is it possible?" cried one of the soldiers; "surely my ears deceive me, or that is the voice of Father Murphy!"
"Sure and it is!" said the reverend father; "and whose should it be but my own? D'ye think I'd use that of another person?"