And he jotted down the name, I presume phonetically, in his note-book. Now, mind, that man has not had a scandal in his parish for fourteen years; and he is up to his neck in securities for half the farmers of the district. All this time, shrinking into an obscure corner of the hall, was my Curé d'Ars, as I call him. He now came forward to say good night, his thin face wreathed in smiles, and his two hands stretched out in thankfulness. "Good night, Father Dan, and a thousand thanks. I never spent a pleasanter evening. What fine young fellows! So clever, so jolly, and so edifying! Won't it be a satisfaction for us when we are going to leave behind us such splendid safeguards of the faith?" His curate was waiting respectfully. He now got the little man into his great-coat, and buttoned it from collar to boot, the latter murmuring his thanks all the time:-- "Dear me! dear me! what a trouble I am! Many thanks! Many thanks! There, now I am all right!" Then his muffler was wrapped carefully around his neck by this big grenadier, and his gloves were drawn over his hands. "Dear me! dear me! how good! how kind! I'm a regular mummy! a real Egyptian mummy, Father Dan! Good night! good night! Dear me, what a pleasant gathering!" And the stalwart curate lifted him on his car, as if he were an infant. * * * * * A few days later we had a long chat over many things, I and my curate. When he was going he said:-- "That was a real jolly evening, Father Dan! I never enjoyed anything so much!" "Yes," I said, "and you had a splendid audience for that noble song!" "Yes, indeed; they were very kind." "Oh, I don't mean _in foro interno_," I said, "but _in foro externo_. There was a good crowd outside the window!" "My God!" he cried, quite shocked. "What a scandal!" "Not a bit of it," I said; "you've gone up a hundred per cent in the estimation of the villagers. There was a real fight for the window-sill. But your friend, Jem Deady, captured it." He looked dreadfully annoyed. "Jem says that he kept awake all night trying to remember the notes; and if you'd give him the words of the song and whistle it--" "What!" said Father Letheby, like a pistol-shot. "And if you'd give him two or three audiences--I suppose he means rehearsals on the piano--he is quite sure--" ! !! !!! Dear me! how some people despise popularity! CHAPTER XVIII THE KAMPANER THAL