"Ave Maria! for to thee, Whom G.o.d was pleased to choose The mother of his Son to be, No prayer will he refuse.

"Ave Maria! then implore One only grace for me-- This heart to give forevermore To G.o.d alone and thee."

"To bed, children, with you all," said the good lady, covering her face with her handkerchief, for the tears started from their source in her n.o.ble soul on hearing this delightful hymn sung by the poor orphans, whose countenances looked like those of angels' while chanting it. "G.o.d forgive those," she said to herself, in a half-audible tone, "that would rob these poor children of that divine religion that teaches her children such heavenly hymns."

This incident recalled to her mind vividly the days of her girlhood, when, in the "sunny south," she heard Catholic hymns sung and Catholic devotion practised in the convent where she, though a Protestant, received her education. And probably her conscience, too, reproached her for the neglect of the good resolutions she formed while there.

CHAPTER X.

A RAY OF HOPE.

Many times during what we shall call his captivity within the gates of the strangers Paul had contrived to write letters to Father O'Shane in the city of T----, as well as to his uncle in Ireland; but from some cause or other, to his innocent mind inexplicable, the letters never reached their destination, nor were they ever after heard of. The postmaster of S----, not generally supposed to be a very exact man, particularly when remitting money in letters for farmers' boys to their Irish friends in eastern or western parts, was ever ready to oblige, and with hearty good will entered into the views of, Parson Gulmore, when he called on him, according to the advice of Amanda, "to have Paul's letters seen to." And never mind they were "seen to" and secured.

This disgraceful proceeding, so disreputable to all concerned, and so characteristic of the fidelity with which the business of "Uncle Sam" is managed, was not confined to the detention and destruction of the poor orphan's letters, but to the piracy of their contents too.

There is no department of the public service in the United States so badly managed as the post-office department. Not only do robber postmasters continue in office after their exposure and their plunder of money letters, but they can be bribed to convey the epistles of individuals to interested parties, who would come at their secrets; and thus the most sacred and secret concerns of life are liable to exposure, and to be sold for gain. We knew a postmaster who for years continued to rob with impunity the letters that were deposited in his "den of thieves;" and when he was exposed and disgraced through the instrumentality of the writer of this tale, whole bushels of letters, directed to Ireland by poor emigrants to their fathers, wives, and sons, were found thrown aside in a nook of his office; the sole motive for this scandalous robbery being the plunder of the twenty-four cents paid on the letters to free them to Europe.

Sadly did the mysterious miscarriage of his letters puzzle the ingenuous heart of poor Paul; though he had reason to suspect, from certain hints thrown out by Amanda, that she, somehow or other, was in possession of their contents. On a certain day, however, a circ.u.mstance convinced Paul that he could not now expect an answer from his letters to Father O'Shane; for Miss Amanda had just pointed out to him a paragraph in the newspaper stating that the Catholic priest of T---- had died of ship fever, taken by him in the discharge of his duties among the sick of his flock.

"G.o.d rest his soul," said Paul, raising his eyes to heaven; "he was a good friend to us in our hour of need."

"What's that you say, Paul?" said Amanda, with a frown. "Did I not tell you repeatedly, Paul, that it was useless to pray for the dead?"

"I know _you told_ me that often, 'Mandy; but am I bound to believe you, when I know the church teaches me the contrary? In fact, the Bible says it is 'a holy and a wholesome thought to pray for the dead, that they may be loosed from their sins.'" (Mac. xii. 42.)

"Don't you call me 'Mandy, Paul," said the vain old maid; "my name is Miss A-man-day."

"A-man-a-day," said Paul, with a sarcastic smile. "I beg pardon," said he, "miss; I must guard against that blunder in future, and say _A-man-a-day_."

"Ah, you naughty boy!" she said, catching him by the hand. "Come here to me till I teach you the knowledge of G.o.d's word. Now, Paul, that pa.s.sage you quoted I do not find in my Bible."

"No," said Paul, "for your Bible is no other than an imperfect, mutilated Bible, corrupted by the men who made your religion. The Catholic church, from which the Protestants stole their piecemeal Bible, always regarded the book of Machabeus as the inspired word of G.o.d."

"But, Paul, it is so foolish, this 'half-way house.'"

"Then, miss, you must blame G.o.d, who created it, for the folly of his not consulting with some Protestant philosopher before he created such a 'half way.' For most certainly there was always, since the dawn of creation, a third place; as, for example, the place where the souls of the just were confined before Christ, who was the first to ascend into heaven, as himself says in his gospel. Now, the Bible does not say that this half way was 'foolish,' or abolished either. Besides, it is but reasonable that there should be a place to purify the frail and imperfect soul before admitting her to G.o.d's holy presence."

"Where the tree falleth, there it lieth," said she.

"Yes, fallen," said Paul, "it lieth there till it is taken away to another place. Where the soul falleth,--that is, whether in a state of grace or in sin,--there it will lie forever; but those who go to purgatory die in a state of grace, and so their eternal destiny is heaven--like those just souls who died before Christ; yet they are not fit for heaven immediately, for 'nothing defiled can enter therein.'"

"You wrote to the priest, didn't you, to say ma.s.ses for your mother's soul in purgatory? How do you know she is there?" said Amanda, unguardedly.

"I hope she is in no worse place," said Paul, the fire kindling in his dark Celtic eye; "and whether in heaven or in h.e.l.l,--which G.o.d forbid!--the ma.s.s can do no harm, but tend to the honor and glory of G.o.d, and I hope procure me and the celebrant merit. But, Amanda, how do you know that I wrote any such request to the priest? I know you are above reading my letters, though I should leave them open under your eye; but I am afraid that hypocritical-looking postmaster may have kept my letters, and given them to somebody. In Ireland, that crime deserved hanging as a punishment; and I do not know what I would do to any body I would detect in opening my letters, and pilfering my secrets," said he, raising himself up.

"O, my dear Paul," said the old maid, perceiving her imprudence, "I only guessed at the contents of your letters. We Yankees are great at guessing, you know. Be silent; shut up, my good fellow," she added, going over to the window. "What crowd is that there below on the road?"

An unusual sight in that part of the country now presented itself to view. Slowly moving along the road was a crowd of men and women--the men, as they came up, taking off their hats, and the women courtesying, in that way that only Catholics can courtesy, to a young gentleman, who, seated in a one-horse carriage, the top lowered down, seemed to be engaged, as he was, in earnest conversation about some subject of an absorbing interest to those around him. In truth, any body, even Amanda, who never saw one, could have guessed that this personage, surrounded by so many of the Irish railroad laborers lately settled in the vicinity, was no other than the Catholic priest. Paul's eye, so lately kindled into pa.s.sion from the hints dropped by Amanda about the foul play regarding his letters, became immediately subdued into composure, and, taking out a small miniature reliquary and silver crucifix which he ever wore on his breast, he pressed them to his lips, saying to himself, "Glory be to G.o.d; and Mary, his virgin mother, be ever blessed. I see the priest, if he is alive." And instantly he was over the fence and on the road.

"There is one of 'em," said Mrs. Murphy, "your reverence; and it would be a charity to do something for the poor children, for they were well reared."

Paul could not, owing to the tears that rushed on him in floods, dare for some time to join the crowd to offer his respects to the representative of religion; and it was a full quarter of an hour before he could say, "Welcome to these parts, your reverence."

"Thank you, my child," said the priest, reaching him his hand.

"Forgive me, sir," said the poor youth; "I can't but weep, 'tis so long since I saw a priest or heard ma.s.s."

There was not a dry eye in the crowd as the young lad clung to the priest's hand, embracing it, and crying aloud, "O my uncle! my uncle!"

"Take him into the shanty and calm him a little," said the stalwart missionary. "Poor little fellow! poor child! poor child!"

"O, G.o.d help the orphan!" said Mrs. Murphy again, fearing she had not touched his reverence's heart. "It would be the charity of G.o.d to do something for them. The men would be all willing to subscribe."

"We will do all we can," said his reverence. "G.o.d will provide for them, if they be what you represent. Meet me here to-morrow, at six o'clock.

We will have ma.s.s and confessions here in the shanty, as we could procure no better place. Give word around through the entire neighborhood. Good by for the present," said he, moving along towards the village of S----.

"G.o.d speed your reverence," answered a hundred voices, as they returned the adieu.

This was the first night since the death of his beloved mother, and that was over two years, that the slightest ray of hope penetrated the burdened but confiding soul of Paul. For himself he did not much care.

He could have escaped any day, and repudiated the iniquitous contract by which the villanous poormaster had sold him and his brethren; but what was to become of his younger sister and brothers? He knew how to plough, mow, cradle, and farm it, as well as any body of his age. He knew how to read, count, write, and even defend his religion, against all opponents, as he did last winter at the Lyceum; but what was to become of Bridget, Patrick, and little Eugene, who had yet many years to serve? This was what puzzled him. But now the priest had come for the first time to this remote region, and _he_ knew what to do, and would not desert the orphan, for no priest ever had done so. He felt there was to be now a change, and he felt a.s.sured that it would be for his good. "Thank G.o.d,"

said he, "I saw the priest at last. I return thee thanks, my G.o.d, and thee, my mother in heaven, now my only mother, and I thank all the heavenly citizens and all heaven, for this dawn of hope that I feel in my soul. O Lord, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven."

Fervent and pious were the prayers offered to G.o.d on this night by Paul, as he thanked him for having seen one in whom he could confide as a friend, as well as because he was preparing to go to his religious duties on the morrow. Let it not be said that it was superst.i.tion in Paul to thank G.o.d so fervently for having permitted him once more to converse with his priest. What can be imagined a more worthy cause for thanksgiving than the meeting with a true friend? What better gift can we receive from G.o.d than a friend? And who ever, in need, has failed to find the good priest a friend in all emergencies?

CHAPTER XI.

VAN STINGEY AGAIN.--HOW HE GETS RICH AND ENDS.

After a year or two in office, our friend Van Stingey found Fortune rather adverse to him, a thing not unusual with the worshippers of that fickle G.o.ddess; for not only was he put out of office by the influence of the "furren" vote thrown against him, but his farther promotion even in the church became almost problematical. His was now a rather unpleasant situation. He was not only defeated at the ballot box by the "Irish element," according as Mrs. Doherty foretold, but he was in disgrace with many of his regular church-going brethren. This latter trial was caused by the well-known fact that a negro girl, who was put under this _religious_ man's care by the abolitionists, and who was now two years in his family, had just given birth to a young mulatto child in his house. Yes, and worse; the miserable yellow thing not only was born, and in health, under the roof of this _religious teacher_, but he was mortified to find that it had his very nose on its face, and could not by any possibility be fathered on any body else. Thus were the prospects of this pious gentleman blasted in one day. He got religion, but now it failed him. He was of the true nativist stamp in politics; but here again his defeat was signal and complete, and all through the suffrages of foreigners.

What was he to do for a living? He must give up religion and politics, and take to some other pursuit. Loafing or living on his neighbors was now impossible, as he was in disgrace with many; and besides, he had a wife and family to support. Peddling was so common, that nothing could now be made in that line; and besides, it took some capital to start with--a thing that was out of the question in our ex-official's case.

The only chance now open for him was the railroad, and to the railroads he said he would betake himself as soon as he could. On the railroad he saw men of little talent, of less honesty, and of no capital, ama.s.s not only a competency, but wealth, in a few years; and our official was very anxious to try his luck in that line of business. Accordingly, when the Northern Railroad was about to be let, Van Stingey, in company with four others, put in their estimate, which was the very lowest, and they thus succeeded in getting ten miles of the road. The partners of Van Stingey were one Purse, one Mr. Kitchins, one Timens, generally called Blind Bill, one Whinny, together with Mr. Lofin, an Irishman. They had the job now, but had neither horses, carts, shovels, nor any of the various implements necessary to carry on the work. A council was held among these five worthies to see what was to be done. They had neither money, nor means, nor credit to begin with, and how were they to fulfil their contract? Most of them were novices in this sort of business; but there was Mr. P. Lofin, whose experience was something, and who suggested a plan which could not but succeed, if his advice was followed. The plan was, that they should advertise for three thousand men and several hundred horses, and on the strength of their advertis.e.m.e.nts, and their certificate of having obtained such a respectable contract, try to borrow some provisions on three months' credit.

In a few days, the public places of the cities of T---- and A---- were posted up with large placards, and advertis.e.m.e.nts were inserted in all the daily papers, which read thus:--

WANTED.

Three thousand men to work on the Northern Railroad at one dollar a day of twelve hours. Men who wish to work extra time will receive extra wages.