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Updated: June 12, 2025
"I have never told the story, never not even to Pere Corraine. But I know, I have it here" he put his hand to his forehead, as did Pierre "that you will be silent." Pierre nodded. "She was fine to see. Her eyes were black as beads; and when she laugh it was all music. I was so happy! We lived on the island of the Aux Coudres, far up there at Quebec. It was a wild place.
Get on your knees to Father Corraine, not to Captain Halby, Jimmy Throng." Pierre spoke in a half-sinister, ironical way, for between him and Captain Halby's Riders of the Plains there was no good feeling. More than once he had come into conflict with them, more than once had they laid their hands on him and taken them off again in due time.
"The wife and child, Bagot?" he asked, looking round. "Ah, the boy!" he added, and going toward the bed, continued, presently, in a low voice: "Dominique is ill?" Bagot nodded, and then answered: "A wildcat and then fever, Father Corraine." The priest felt the boy's pulse softly, then with a close personal look he spoke hardly above his breath, yet distinctly, too: "Your wife, Bagot?"
He put his arm round the other's shoulder, and supported him till he recovered himself. Then he set to work to bandage anew the wound, from which Pierre himself had not unskilfully extracted the bullet. While doing so, the outlaw said to him: "Father Corraine, I am hunted like a coyote for a crime I did not commit. But if I am arrested they will no doubt charge me with other things ancient things.
Get on your knees to Father Corraine, not to Captain Halby, Jimmy Throng." Pierre spoke in a half-sinister, ironical way, for between him and Captain Halby's Riders of the Plains there was no good feeling. More than once he had come into conflict with them, more than once had they laid their hands on him and taken them off again in due time.
Father Corraine rose and sat beside the table, his book of offices open before him.
Here the priest interposed: "What is the name of the man in Pipi Valley to whom you are going?" And the girl replied: "Ah, father, have I not told you? It is Shon McGann of Farcalladen Rise." At this, Father Corraine seemed suddenly troubled, and he looked strangely and sadly at her.
Father Corraine rose and sat beside the table, his book of offices open before him.
The veins were beating like live cords in the man's throat and at his temples. "'Twas just the same as Father Corraine bein' here, when mother had Sunday, wasn't it?" The man made no reply, but a gloom drew down his forehead, and his lips doubled in as if he endured physical pain. He got to his feet and paced the floor.
Mary Callen's tears flowed afresh at first; but soon after the voice ceased she closed her eyes and her sobs stopped, and Father Corraine sat down and became lost in thought as he watched the candle.
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