Guleesh dismounted, and took his hand; and then the little man said a couple of words he did not understand, and before he knew where he was he found himself in the room with the Pope.
The Pope was sitting up late that night reading a book that he liked. He was sitting on a big soft chair, and his two feet on the chimney-board. There was a fine fire in the grate, and a little table standing at his elbow, and a drop of ishka-baha (eau-de-vie) and sugar on the little tableeen; and he never felt till Guleesh came up behind him.
“Now Guleesh,” said the sheehogue, “tell him that unless he gives you the bull you’ll set the room on fire; and if he refuses it to you, I’ll spurt fire round about out of my mouth, till he thinks the place is really in a blaze, and I’ll go bail he’ll be ready enough then to give you the pardon.”
Guleesh went up to him and put his hand on his shoulder. The Pope turned round, and when he saw Guleesh standing behind him he frightened up.
“Don’t be afraid,” said Guleesh, “we have a parish priest at home, and some thief told your honour a lie about him, and he was broken; but he’s the decentest man ever your honour saw, and there’s not a man, woman, or child in Ballynatoothach but’s in love with him.”
“Hold your tongue, you bodach,” said the Pope. “Where are you from, or what brought you here? Haven’t I a lock on the door?”
“I came in on the keyhole,” says Guleesh, “and I’d be very much obliged to your honour if you’d do what I’m asking.”
The Pope cried out: “Where are all my people? Where are my servants? Shamus! Shawn! I’m killed; I’m robbed.”
Guleesh put his back to the door, the way he could not get out, and he was afraid to go near Guleesh, so he had no help for it, but had to listen to Guleesh’s story; and Guleesh could not tell it to him shortly and plainly, for he was slow and coarse in his speaking, and that angered the Pope; and when Guleesh finished his story, he vowed that he never would give the priest his pardon; and he threatened Guleesh himself that he would put him to death for his shamelessness in coming in upon him in the night; and he began again crying out for his servants. Whether the servants heard him or no, there was a lock on the inside of the door, so that they could not come in to him.
“Unless you give me a bull under your hand and seal, and the priest’s pardon in it,” said Guleesh; “I’ll burn your house with fire.”