THESISTERS
Therewasnohopeforhimthistime:
itwasthe
derde
thirdstroke.NightafternightIhadpassedthehouse(itwasvacationtime)and
bestudeerde
studiedthelightedsquareofraam
window:andnightafternightIhadfounditlightedinthesameway,faintlyandevenly.
Ifhewasdead,Ithought,Iwouldseethereflectionofcandlesonthedarkened
blind
blindforIknewthattwocandlesmustbesetattheheadofacorpse.Hehad
vaak
oftensaidtome:“Iamnotlongforthisworld,”andIhadthoughthiswordsidle.
NowIknewtheyweretrue.
EverynightasIgazedupatthe
raam
windowIsaidsoftlytomyselfthewordparalysis.Ithadalwayssoundedstrangelyinmyears,likethewordgnomonintheEuclidandthewordsimonyintheCatechism.
Butnowitsoundedtomelikethenameofsomemaleficentandsinfulbeing.
Itfilledmewith
angst
fear,andyetIlongedtobenearertoitandtolookuponitsdeadlywork.OldCotterwassittingatthefire,
roken
smoking,whenIcamedownstairstosupper.Whilemy
tante
auntwasladlingoutmystirabouthesaid,asifreturningtosomeformerremarkofhis:.“No,Iwouldn’tsayhewasexactly...
buttherewassomethingqueer...
therewassomethinguncannyabouthim.
I’lltellyoumyopinion....”
He
begon
begantopuffathispipe,nodoubtarranginghisopinioninhismind.Tiresomeoldfool!
Whenweknewhimfirstheusedtobe
nogal
ratherinteresting,talkingoffaintsandworms;butIsoongrew
moe
tiredofhimandhisendlessstoriesaboutthedistillery.“Ihavemyowntheoryaboutit,”hesaid.
“Ithinkitwasoneofthose...
peculiarcases....
Butit’shardtosay....”
He
begon
begantopuffagainathispipewithoutgivingushistheory.Myunclesawmestaringandsaidtome:.
“Well,soyouroldfriendisgone,you’llbesorrytohear.”
“Who?”
saidI.
“FatherFlynn.”
“Ishedead?”
“MrCotterherehasjusttoldus.
Hewaspassingbythehouse.”
IknewthatIwasunderobservationsoI
bleef
continuedeatingasifthenewshadnotgeïnteresseerd
interestedme.MyuncleexplainedtooldCotter.
“Theyoungsterandheweregreatfriends.
Theoldchap
leerde
taughthimagreatdeal,mindyou;andtheysayhehadagreatwishforhim.”
“Godhavemercyonhissoul,”saidmy
tante
auntpiously.OldCotterlookedatmeforawhile.
IfeltthathislittlebeadyblackeyeswereexaminingmebutIwouldnotsatisfyhimbylookingupfrommyplate.
Hereturnedtohispipeandfinallyspatrudelyintothegrate.
“Iwouldn’tlikechildrenofmine,”hesaid,“tohavetoomuchtosaytoamanlikethat.”
“Howdoyoumean,MrCotter?”
askedmy
tante
aunt.“WhatImeanis,”saidoldCotter,“it’sbadforchildren.
Myideais:
letayoungladrunaboutandplaywithyoungladsofhisown
leeftijd
ageandnotbe....AmIright,Jack?”
“That’smyprinciple,too,”saidmyuncle.
“Lethim
leren
learntoboxhiscorner.That’swhatI’malwayssayingtothatRosicrucianthere:
takeexercise.
Why,whenIwasanippereverymorningofmylifeIhadacoldbath,winterand
zomer
summer.Andthat’swhatstandstomenow.
Educationisallveryfineand
groot
large....MrCottermighttakeapickofthatlegmutton,”headdedtomy
tante
aunt.“No,no,notforme,”saidoldCotter.
My
tante
auntbroughtthedishfromthesafeandputitonthetafel
table.“Butwhydoyouthinkit’snotgoodforchildren,MrCotter?”
sheasked.
“It’sbadforchildren,”saidoldCotter,“becausetheirmindsaresoimpressionable.
Whenchildrenseethingslikethat,youknow,ithasaneffect....”
Icrammedmy
mond
mouthwithstiraboutforfearImightgiveutterancetomyanger.Tiresomeoldred-nosedimbecile!
ItwaslatewhenIfellasleep.
ThoughIwas
boos
angrywitholdCotterforalludingtomeasachild,Ipuzzledmyheadtoextractmeaningfromhisunfinishedsentences.Inthe
donker
darkofmyroomIstelde
imaginedthatIsawagainthezware
heavygreyfaceoftheparalytic.Idrewtheblanketsovermyheadandtriedtothinkof
Kerstmis
Christmas.Butthegreyfacestillfollowedme.
Itmurmured;
andIunderstoodthatitdesiredtoconfesssomething.
Ifeltmy
ziel
soulrecedingintosomepleasantandviciousregion;andthereagainIfounditwaitingforme.
It
begon
begantoconfesstomeinamurmuringstem
voiceandIwonderedwhyitglimlachte
smiledcontinuallyandwhythelipsweresomoistwithspittle.ButthenIrememberedthatithaddiedofparalysisandIfeltthatItoowas
glimlachte
smilingfeeblyasiftoabsolvethesimoniacofhissin.Thenextmorningafter
ontbijt
breakfastIwentdowntolookatthelittlehouseinGreatBritainStreet.Itwasanunassuming
winkel
shop,registeredunderthevaguenameofDrapery.Thedraperyconsistedmainlyofchildren’sbooteesandumbrellas;
andonordinarydaysanoticeusedtohanginthe
raam
window,saying:UmbrellasRe-covered.
No
bericht
noticewasvisiblenowfortheshutterswereup.Acrapebouquetwastiedtothedoor-knockerwithribbon.
Twopoorwomenandatelegramboywerereadingthe
kaart
cardpinnedonthecrape.Ialsoapproachedandread:.
July1st,1895TheRev.JamesFlynn(formerlyofS.Catherine’sChurch,MeathStreet),agedsixty-fiveyears.R.I.P.
Thereadingofthe
kaart
cardpersuadedmethathewasdeadandIwasdisturbedtofindmyselfatcheck.HadhenotbeendeadIwouldhavegoneintothelittle
donkere
darkroombehindtheshoptofindhimsittinginhisarm-chairbythefire,nearlysmotheredinhisgreat-coat.Perhapsmy
tante
auntwouldhavegivenmeapacketofHighToastforhimandthispresentwouldhaverousedhimfromhisstupefieddoze.ItwasalwaysIwhoemptiedthepacketintohisblacksnuff-boxforhishandstrembledtoomuchto
laten
allowhimtodothiswithoutspillinghalfthesnuffaboutthevloer
floor.Evenasheraisedhis
grote
largetremblinghandtohisneus
noselittlecloudsofsmokedribbledthroughhisfingersoverthefrontofhiscoat.Itmayhavebeentheseconstantshowersofsnuffwhichgavehisancientpriestlygarmentstheir
groene
greenfadedlookfortheredhandkerchief,blackened,asitalwayswas,withthesnuff-stainsofaweek,withwhichhetriedtobrushawaythefallengrains,wasquiteinefficacious.IwishedtogoinandlookathimbutIhadnotthecourageto
kloppen
knock.Iwalkedawayslowlyalongthesunnysideofthestreet,readingallthetheatricaladvertisementsintheshop-windowsasIwent.
Ifoundit
vreemd
strangethatneitherInorthedayleken
seemedinamourningmoodandIfeltevenannoyedatdiscoveringinmyselfasensationoffreedomasifIhadbeenfreedfromsomethingbyhisdeath.Iwonderedatthisfor,asmyunclehadsaidthenightbefore,hehad
geleerd
taughtmeagreatdeal.Hehad
gestudeerd
studiedintheIrishcollegeinRomeandhehadgeleerd
taughtmetopronounceLatinproperly.HehadtoldmestoriesaboutthecatacombsandaboutNapoleonBonaparte,andhehad
uitgelegd
explainedtomethemeaningofthedifferentceremoniesoftheMassandofthedifferentvestmentsdroeg
wornbythepriest.Sometimeshehadamusedhimselfbyputtingdifficultquestionstome,askingmewhatoneshoulddoin
bepaalde
certaincircumstancesorwhethersuchandsuchsinsweremortalorvenialoronlyimperfections.Hisquestionsshowedmehowcomplexandmysteriouswere
bepaalde
certaininstitutionsoftheChurchwhichIhadalwaysregardedasthesimplestacts.ThedutiesofthepriesttowardstheEucharistandtowardsthesecrecyoftheconfessional
leken
seemedsogravetomethatIwonderedhowanybodyhadeverfoundinhimselfthecouragetoundertakethem;andIwasnot
verbaasd
surprisedwhenhetoldmethatthefathersoftheChurchhadwrittenbooksasthickasthePostOfficeDirectoryandascloselyprintedasthelawnoticesinthenewspaper,elucidatingalltheseintricatequestions.Vaak
OftenwhenIthoughtofthisIcouldmakenoansweroronlyaveryfoolishandhaltingoneuponwhichheusedtoglimlachte
smileandnodhisheadtwiceorthrice.SometimesheusedtoputmethroughtheresponsesoftheMasswhichhehadmademe
leren
learnbyheart;and,asIpattered,heusedto
glimlachte
smilepensivelyandnodhishead,nowandthenduwde
pushinghugepinchesofsnuffupeachnostrilalternately.Whenhe
glimlachte
smiledheusedtouncoverhisbigdiscolouredteethandlethistonguelieuponhislowerlip—ahabitwhichhadmademefeeluneasyinthebegin
beginningofouracquaintancebeforeIknewhimwell.AsIwalkedalonginthe
zon
sunIrememberedoldCotter’swordsandtriedtorememberwhathadhappenedafterwardsinthedream.IrememberedthatIhad
opgemerkt
noticedlongvelvetcurtainsandaswinginglampofantiquefashion.IfeltthatIhadbeenveryfaraway,insome
land
landwherethecustomswerestrange—inPersia,Ithought....ButIcouldnotremembertheendofthedream.
Inthe
's avonds
eveningmyaunttookmewithhertobezoeken
visitthehouseofmourning.Itwasaftersunset;
butthewindow-panesofthehousesthatlookedtothe
westen
westreflectedthetawnygoldofagreatbank
bankofclouds.Nanniereceivedusinthehall;
and,asitwouldhavebeenunseemlytohaveshoutedather,my
tante
auntshookhandswithherforall.Theoldwomanpointedupwardsinterrogativelyand,onmyaunt’snodding,proceededtotoilupthenarrowstaircasebeforeus,herbowedheadbeingscarcely
boven
abovethelevelofthebanister-rail.Atthefirstlandingshestoppedandbeckonedus
naar voren
forwardencouraginglytowardstheopendoorofthedead-room.My
tante
auntwentinandtheoldwoman,seeingthatIhesitatedtoenter,begon
begantobeckontomeagainrepeatedlywithherhand.Iwentinontiptoe.
Theroomthroughthelaceendofthe
blind
blindwassuffusedwithduskygoldenlightamidwhichthecandleslookedlikepalethinflames.Hehadbeencoffined.
Nanniegavethe
leiding
leadandwethreekneltdownatthevoet
footofthebed.Ipretendedto
bidden
praybutIcouldnotgathermythoughtsbecausetheoldwoman’smutteringsdistractedme.Inoticedhowclumsilyherskirtwashookedatthebackandhowtheheelsofherclothbootsweretroddendownalltooneside.
Thefancycametomethattheoldpriestwas
glimlachte
smilingashelaythereinhiscoffin.Butno.WhenweroseandwentuptotheheadofthebedIsawthathewasnot
glimlachte
smiling.Therehelay,solemnandcopious,vestedasforthealtar,his
grote
largehandslooselyretainingachalice.Hisfacewasverytruculent,greyandmassive,withblackcavernousnostrilsandcircledbyascantywhitefur.
Therewasa
zware
heavyodourintheroom—theflowers.Weblessedourselvesandcameaway.
InthelittleroomdownstairswefoundElizaseatedinhisarm-chairin
staat
state.IgropedmywaytowardsmyusualchairinthecornerwhileNanniewenttothesideboardandbroughtoutadecanterofsherryandsomewine-glasses.
Shesettheseonthe
tafel
tableandinvitedustotakealittleglas
glassofwine.Then,athersister’sbidding,shefilledoutthesherryintotheglassesandpassedthemtous.
ShepressedmetotakesomecreamcrackersalsobutIdeclinedbecauseIthoughtIwouldmaketoomuchnoiseeatingthem.
She
leek
seemedtobesomewhatdisappointedatmyrefusalandwentoverquietlytothesofawhereshesatdownbehindhersister.Noonespoke:
weallgazedatthe
lege
emptyfireplace.MyauntwaiteduntilElizasighedandthensaid:.
“Ah,well,he’sgonetoabetterworld.”
Elizasighedagainandbowedherheadinassent.
My
tante
auntfingeredthestemofherwine-glassbeforesippingalittle.“Didhe...
peacefully?”
sheasked.
“Oh,quitepeacefully,ma’am,”saidEliza.
“Youcouldn’ttellwhenthebreathwentoutofhim.
Hehadabeautifuldeath,Godbepraised.”
“Andeverything...?”
“FatherO’RourkewasinwithhimaTuesdayandanointedhimandpreparedhimandall.”
“Heknewthen?”
“Hewasquiteresigned.”
“Helooksquiteresigned,”saidmy
tante
aunt.“That’swhatthewomanwehadinto
wassen
washhimsaid.Shesaidhejustlookedasifhewasasleep,helookedthatpeacefulandresigned.
Noonewouldthinkhe’dmakesuchabeautifulcorpse.”
“Yes,indeed,”saidmy
tante
aunt.Shesippedalittlemorefromher
glas
glassandsaid:.“Well,MissFlynn,atanyrateitmustbeagreatcomfortforyoutoknowthatyoudidallyoucouldforhim.
Youwerebothverykindtohim,Imustsay.”
Elizasmoothedher
jurk
dressoverherknees.“Ah,poorJames!”
shesaid.
“Godknowswedoneallwecould,aspoorasweare—wewouldn’tseehimwantanythingwhilehewasinit.”
Nanniehadleanedherheadagainstthesofa-pillowand
leek
seemedabouttofallasleep.“There’spoorNannie,”saidEliza,lookingather,“she’sworeout.
Alltheworkwehad,sheandme,gettinginthewomanto
wassen
washhimandthenlayinghimoutandthenthecoffinandthenarrangingabouttheMassinthechapel.OnlyforFatherO’RourkeIdon’tknowwhatwe’dhavedoneatall.
Itwashimbroughtusallthemflowersandthemtwocandlesticksoutofthechapelandwroteoutthe
kennisgeving
noticefortheFreeman’sGeneralandtookchargeofallthepapersforthecemeteryandpoorJames’sinsurance.”“Wasn’tthatgoodofhim?”
saidmy
tante
aunt.Elizaclosedhereyesandshookherheadslowly.
“Ah,there’snofriendsliketheoldfriends,”shesaid,“whenallissaidanddone,nofriendsthatabodycantrust.”
“Indeed,that’strue,”saidmy
tante
aunt.“AndI’msurenowthathe’sgonetohiseternalrewardhewon’tforgetyouandallyourkindnesstohim.”
“Ah,poorJames!”
saidEliza.
“Hewasnogreattroubletous.
Youwouldn’thearhiminthehouseanymorethannow.
Still,Iknowhe’sgoneandalltothat....”
“It’swhenit’salloverthatyou’llmisshim,”saidmy
tante
aunt.“Iknowthat,”saidEliza.
“Iwon’tbebringinghiminhiscupofbeef-teaanymore,
noch
noryou,ma’am,sendinghimhissnuff.Ah,poorJames!”
Shestopped,asifshewerecommuningwiththepastandthensaidshrewdly:.
“Mindyou,I
opgemerkt
noticedtherewassomethingqueercomingoverhimlatterly.WheneverI’dbringinhissouptohimthereI’dfindhimwithhisbreviaryfallentothe
vloer
floor,lyingbackinthechairandhismond
mouthopen.”Shelaidafingeragainsther
neus
noseandfrowned:thenshecontinued:.
“Butstillandallhekeptonsayingthatbeforethe
zomer
summerwasoverhe’dgooutforadriveonefinedayjusttoseetheoldhouseagainwherewewereallgeboren
borndowninIrishtownandtakemeandNanniewithhim.Ifwecouldonlygetoneofthemnew-fangledcarriagesthatmakesnonoisethatFatherO’Rourketoldhimabout,themwiththerheumaticwheels,forthedaycheap—hesaid,atJohnnyRush’soverthewaythereanddriveoutthethreeofustogetherofaSundayevening.
Hehadhismindsetonthat....
PoorJames!”
“TheLordhavemercyonhissoul!”
saidmy
tante
aunt.Elizatookoutherhandkerchiefandwipedhereyeswithit.
Thensheputitbackagaininherpocketandgazedintothe
lege
emptygrateforsometimewithoutspeaking.