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It was furnished with more than comfort, and its adornments plainly indicated a woman's discerning taste. An open door beyond revealed the blackness of an adjoining room's interior. The boy clutched both of Father Rogan's hands. "I'm so glad you came," he said; "but why did you come in the night? Did sister send you?" "Off wid ye!
"Well, what does this meant" inquired Bruce of Nipper. "Well, I guess they read Rogan's story in the Journal. He said we were going to have a test to-night, you know." "Then we're going to have a gallery of spectators! Oh, well, we don't mind, do we, boys?" "You bet we don't if the thing will only work," said Nipper.
If you climb to the top of Rogan's Seat, you have a huge panorama of desolate country spread out before you. The confused jumble of blue-grey mountains to the north-west is beyond the limits of Yorkshire at last, and in their strong embrace those stern Westmorland hills hold the charms of Lakeland. If one stays in this mountainous region, there are new and exciting walks available for every day.
"As I hoped," he said. "I thought you would trust me. Wait but a moment." He brought a long clay pipe, filled and lighted it. "Now, my son," he said. Lorison poured a twelve month's accumulated confidence into Father Rogan's ear. He told all; not sparing himself or omitting the facts of his past, the events of the night, or his disturbing conjectures and fears.
Afterward the priest spake briefly, as if by rote, of certain other civil and legal addenda that either might or should, at a later time, cap the ceremony. Lorison tendered a fee, which was declined, and before the door closed after the departing couple Father Rogan's book popped open again where his finger marked it. In the dark hall Norah whirled and clung to her companion, tearful.
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