The young man was silent.
"You are afraid to tell? Now what is it? There's something uncanny about it?"
He fumbled with his vest, and looked sullenly into the darkening night.
"Then, as you won't answer, I'll take it with me," said the priest, folding the rope into a coil, and preparing to put it in his pocket.
There was a sullen smile around the young man's mouth.
"The owner will be looking for it," said he.
"Tell the owner that Father Letheby has it, and she can come to me for it," said the priest. He put the rope in his pocket and moved to the door.
"Don't! don't! Father dear," said the old woman. "It isn't good. Give it back, and Ned will give it to the good 'oman to-morrow."
"No! I shall give it myself," said the priest, "and a bit of my mind with it."
The young man moved to the door, and stood beside the priest.