Biddy, come here!"

The old woman came back as a dog comes to its master, joyful, and with
brightening eyes.

"Tell us what you saw last night."

"Well, your reverence, I was asleep, and there suddenly came a knocking
at the door, and I got up, and then I head a voice say, 'Open the
door.' There was a beautiful young man outside, his hair was yellow and
curly, and he was dressed in white. He came into the room first, and he
was followed by other saints, and they had harps in their hands, and
they sang for a long while; they sang beautiful music. Come to the
window and you will hear it for yourselves. Someone is always singing
it in the window, not always as clearly as they did last night."

"We'll go to see your window presently."

The old woman crept back to her place, and the priest and the young man
began to talk about the possibilities of miracles in modern times, and
they talked on until the sudden sight of Biddy gave them pause.

"Look at her," said the young man, "can you doubt that she sees Heaven,
quite plainly, and that the saints visited her just as she told us?"

"No doubt, no doubt. But she's a great trial to us at Mass .... The
Mass must not be interrupted."

"I suppose even miracles are inconvenient at times, Father Maguire. Be
patient with her, let her enjoy her happiness."

And the two men stood looking at her, trying vainly to imagine what her
happiness might be.

CHAPTER III

THE EXILE

I

Pat Phelan's bullocks were ready for the fair, and so were his pigs;
but the two fairs happened to come on the same day, and he thought he
would like to sell the pigs himself. His eldest son, James, was staying
at home to help Catherine Ford with her churning; Peter, his second
son, was not much of a hand at a bargain; it was Pat and James who
managed the farm, and when Peter had gone to bed they began to wonder
if Peter would be able to sell the bullocks. Pat said Peter had been
told the lowest price he could take, James said there was a good demand
for cattle, and at last they decided that Peter could not fail to sell
the beasts.

Pat was to meet Peter at the cross-roads about twelve o'clock in the
day. But he had sold his pigs early, and was half an hour in front of
him, and sitting on the stile waiting for his son, he thought if Peter
got thirteen pounds apiece for the bullocks he would say he had done
very well. A good jobber, he thought, would be able to get ten
shillings apiece more