"I hope she is in no worse place," said Paul, the fire kindling in his
dark Celtic eye; "and whether in heaven or in hell,--which God
forbid!--the mass can do no harm, but tend to the honor and glory of
God, 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 passion 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