The record-union., 1897-10-03
A FREE PARDON.
PART I.


the aims boxes, 81 pound, II shillings,
2 pence and he laid down the money
ina little heap on the sacristy table
Thank you" said Father Urquhart,
as he entered in his book, Il pound, il
Ehillings, 2 pence"
Altar and candle offerings 9 shill-
ings"
Mine shfllings," repeated the priest
gloomily
Then came MASSES for the Depart
ed" Peters Pence" etc, each with a
mere tale of shillings, and then Father
Urquhart closed the book, and said in
a tone of quiet despair, THANK you,
gentlemen and the two gentlemen
who acted as collectors, having rem
dered up the money, left the sacristy
wondering, as for some time they had
wondered at the marked falling on
In the offertory. Once week they
ernptied the various compartments OF
the aims box and carried the oner1ngs
of the congregation to the priest but
now there were only shillings to carry,
where once there had been pounds.
What can have made such a d1f-
ference?" exclaimed Mr. Vickers. 1
can see that Father Urquhart is as
much surprised as we are, only ne
blames himself, and is unhappy"
IT know-I know" said Mr.. Blencowe.
''T1is face makes me miserable. can't
for the life of me understand what can
have made every one turn so niggard-
ly. It seems to me that here in Stag
borough the very source of benevolence
is dried up"
yes, and things seem to be going
from bad to worse"
They are worse even this week than
you are aware of, Vickers. 1 mean
there was one sovereign to-day in the
poor box, though there was no gold
anywhere else; but am afraid that l
myself put that sovereign in because
Father Urquhart looks so wretched
when, week after week, we appear with
no money to speak Of"
Mr.. Vickers could scarcely conceal
his amazement. You put it imp he
exclaimed.
Eyes, on Sunday. was only going
to give ) shillings, as usual, but l
thought I would make it a pound to
help cheer him"
But, my dear Blencowe, I had ex-
actly the same thought, and I put that
sovereign into the box myself this af-
ternoon when we came into the
church"
my dear fellow, I assure you put
it in on Sunday"
'I assure you I put it in this after
noonl"
''You thought you did, but you got
hold of a shilling by mistake"
cor you did?"
"Impossiblel Mine was given in
broad daylight"
Each was convinced that he had
made no mistake, but recognized that
he had no means of proving it; nor did
either particularly care to prove it,
each seeing that his intention had in
any case been fulfilled.
well" observed Mr.. Blencowe with
n smile, zone of us must have made
q mistake, so we had better both give
double next time to make the balance
true"
but you forget that next time we
shall have to give four or five times
as much. Every one will give hand
somely after the Candlemas sermon
even if they do not want to do it, the
Bishops eloquence viii make them.
Good evening, Blencowe," and so say
ing, Mr. Vickers darted up the steps
to his own door.
"I am afraid the Bishop will not set
poor dear Father Urquhart's mind at
rest" thought Mr.. Blencowe sadly, for
he tenderly loved the man. Three years
ago he had come to Slagborough as the
successor of a dear friend of the Blen-
cowes, For months they had assured
themselves that no one could ever re-
ho
and then they had discovered that
Father Urquhart had more than done
so. Slagborough was a rough and not
particularly prosperous north
town, and his flock was principally
composed Of poor Irish people with
quick tempers and quicker methods of
showing them. He had, Of course, not
been able to prevent the poker playing
an important part in the family coun-
ellis of some of these. his parishioners,
but he had done much toward keeping
it in its proper place; and by his un-
failing kindness and sympathy and
many generous acts of devotion he had
won much love.
And yet there was something that the
Slagborough people did not at all like
about Father Urquhart. and it was this
he came from down South,' and Of
ten had to ask for an explanation of
some of their North-country words and
phrases; nor was he himself always
'understanded of the people," and the
said people held that it was ''nobbut
foolishness of any priest, no matter
who nor what he was, for to come and
sattle down in amang a lot of folks who
couldn't never max ne sense out of
nought that he said to them" Think
ing of these and other things of the like
kind, Mr.. Blencowe walked on for some
time, but his heart ached at the recol-
lection of the priests patient and pa
thetic face, and he turned back to see
If he could not persuade Father UrQu-
hart to so home and dine with him.
The church looked strangely vast and
desolate when Mr.. Blencowe re-entered
IT. So far as he could see, no one was
there, but without close inspection it
was impossible TO say how many black
robed, half-crouching, alf-kneeling fig
ures might not be lurking in out-of-the
way corners. Passing by long rows of
pillars, which seemed to loom forth
from the obscurity with a whiteness
that was scarcely natural he made his
way to the chill and desolate sacristy.
Father Urquhart was still there, stand
ing poring over a paper with long col
umns of figures on it. His profile stood
out in sharp relief from the dark panel
ling of the presses and walls. What a
beautiful face it was Bleach all the
color out OF it," Mr.. Blencowe had Of
ten said, "and it would be just like that
of fine Greek statue; but now, when