THESISTERS
Therewasnohopeforhimthistime:
itwasthe
harmadik
thirdstroke.NightafternightIhadpassedthehouse(itwasvacationtime)andstudiedthelightedsquareof
ablak
window:andnightafternightIhadfounditlightedinthesameway,faintlyandevenly.
Ifhewasdead,Ithought,IwouldseethereflectionofcandlesonthedarkenedblindforIknewthattwocandlesmustbesetattheheadofacorpse.
Hehad
gyakran
oftensaidtome:“Iamnotlongforthisworld,”andIhadthoughthiswordsidle.
NowIknewtheyweretrue.
EverynightasIgazedupatthewindowIsaidsoftlytomyselfthewordparalysis.
Ithadalwayssoundedstrangelyinmyears,likethewordgnomonintheEuclidandthewordsimonyintheCatechism.
Butnowitsoundedtomelikethenameofsomemaleficentandsinfulbeing.
Itfilledmewithfear,andyetIlongedtobenearertoitandtolookuponitsdeadlywork.
OldCotterwassittingatthefire,
dohányzott
smoking,whenIcamedownstairstosupper.Whilemyauntwasladlingoutmystirabouthesaid,asifreturningtosomeformerremarkofhis:.
“No,Iwouldn’tsayhewasexactly...
buttherewassomethingqueer...
therewassomethinguncannyabouthim.
I’lltellyoumyopinion....”
Hebegantopuffathispipe,nodoubtarranginghisopinioninhismind.
Tiresomeoldfool!
Whenweknewhimfirstheusedtoberather
érdekes
interesting,talkingoffaintsandworms;butIsoongrewtiredofhimandhisendlessstoriesaboutthedistillery.
“Ihavemyowntheoryaboutit,”hesaid.
“Ithinkitwasoneofthose...
peculiarcases....
Butit’shardtosay....”
Hebegantopuffagainathispipewithoutgivingushistheory.
Myunclesawmestaringandsaidtome:.
“Well,soyouroldfriendisgone,you’llbesorrytohear.”
“Who?”
saidI.
“FatherFlynn.”
“Ishedead?”
“MrCotterherehasjusttoldus.
Hewaspassingbythehouse.”
IknewthatIwasunderobservationsoIcontinuedeatingasifthenewshadnotinterestedme.
MyuncleexplainedtooldCotter.
“Theyoungsterandheweregreatfriends.
Theoldchaptaughthimagreatdeal,mindyou;
andtheysayhehadagreatwishforhim.”
“Godhavemercyonhissoul,”saidmyauntpiously.
OldCotterlookedatmeforawhile.
IfeltthathislittlebeadyblackeyeswereexaminingmebutIwouldnotsatisfyhimbylookingupfrommyplate.
Hereturnedtohispipeand
végül
finallyspatrudelyintothegrate.“Iwouldn’tlikechildrenofmine,”hesaid,“tohavetoomuchtosaytoamanlikethat.”
“Howdoyoumean,MrCotter?”
askedmyaunt.
“WhatImeanis,”saidoldCotter,“it’sbadforchildren.
Myideais:
letayoungladrunaboutandplaywithyoungladsofhisownageandnotbe....
AmIright,Jack?”
“That’smyprinciple,too,”saidmyuncle.
“Lethimlearntoboxhiscorner.
That’swhatI’malwayssayingtothatRosicrucianthere:
takeexercise.
Why,whenIwasanippereverymorningofmylifeIhadacoldbath,winterand
nyáron
summer.Andthat’swhatstandstomenow.
Educationisallveryfineand
nagy
large....MrCottermighttakeapickofthatlegmutton,”headdedtomyaunt.
“No,no,notforme,”saidoldCotter.
Myauntbroughtthedishfromthesafeandputitonthetable.
“Butwhydoyouthinkit’snotgoodforchildren,MrCotter?”
sheasked.
“It’sbadforchildren,”saidoldCotter,“becausetheirmindsaresoimpressionable.
Whenchildrenseethingslikethat,youknow,ithasaneffect....”
IcrammedmymouthwithstiraboutforfearImightgiveutterancetomyanger.
Tiresomeoldred-nosedimbecile!
ItwaslatewhenIfellasleep.
ThoughIwas
dühös
angrywitholdCotterforalludingtomeasachild,Ipuzzledmyheadtoextractmeaningfromhisunfinishedsentences.InthedarkofmyroomIimaginedthatIsawagainthe
nehéz
heavygreyfaceoftheparalytic.IdrewtheblanketsovermyheadandtriedtothinkofChristmas.
Butthegreyfacestillfollowedme.
Itmurmured;
andIunderstoodthatitdesiredtoconfesssomething.
Ifeltmysoulrecedingintosomepleasantandviciousregion;
andthereagainIfounditwaitingforme.
Itbegantoconfesstomeinamurmuring
hangon
voiceandIwonderedwhyitmosolygott
smiledcontinuallyandwhythelipsweresomoistwithspittle.ButthenIrememberedthatithaddiedofparalysisandIfeltthatItoowassmilingfeeblyasiftoabsolvethesimoniacofhissin.
Thenextmorningafter
reggeli
breakfastIwentdowntolookatthelittlehouseinGreatBritainStreet.Itwasanunassuming
bolt
shop,registeredunderthevaguenameofDrapery.Thedraperyconsistedmainlyofchildren’sbooteesandumbrellas;
andonordinarydaysanoticeusedtohanginthewindow,saying:
UmbrellasRe-covered.
Nonoticewasvisiblenowfortheshutterswereup.
Acrapebouquetwastiedtothedoor-knockerwithribbon.
Twopoorwomenandatelegramboywerereadingthecardpinnedonthecrape.
Ialsoapproachedandread:.
July1st,1895TheRev.JamesFlynn(formerlyofS.Catherine’sChurch,MeathStreet),agedsixty-fiveyears.R.I.P.
Thereadingofthe
kártya
cardpersuadedmethathewasdeadandIwasdisturbedtofindmyselfatcheck.HadhenotbeendeadIwouldhavegoneintothelittle
sötét
darkroombehindtheshoptofindhimsittinginhisarm-chairbythefire,nearlysmotheredinhisgreat-coat.PerhapsmyauntwouldhavegivenmeapacketofHighToastforhimandthispresentwouldhaverousedhimfromhisstupefieddoze.
ItwasalwaysIwhoemptiedthepacketintohisblacksnuff-boxforhishandstrembledtoomuchtoallowhimtodothiswithoutspillinghalfthesnuffaboutthefloor.
Evenasheraisedhis
nagy
largetremblinghandtohisnoselittlecloudsofsmokedribbledthroughhisfingersoverthefrontofhiscoat.Itmayhavebeentheseconstantshowersofsnuffwhichgavehisancientpriestlygarmentstheir
zöld
greenfadedlookfortheredhandkerchief,blackened,asitalwayswas,withthesnuff-stainsofaweek,withwhichhetriedtobrushawaythefallengrains,wasquiteinefficacious.IwishedtogoinandlookathimbutIhadnotthecouragetoknock.
Iwalkedawayslowlyalongthesunnysideofthestreet,readingallthetheatricaladvertisementsintheshop-windowsasIwent.
Ifoundit
furcsa
strangethatneitherInorthedaytűntünk
seemedinamourningmoodandIfeltevenannoyedatdiscoveringinmyselfasensationoffreedomasifIhadbeenfreedfromsomethingbyhisdeath.Iwonderedatthisfor,asmyunclehadsaidthenightbefore,hehadtaughtmeagreatdeal.
HehadstudiedintheIrishcollegeinRomeandhehadtaughtmetopronounceLatinproperly.
HehadtoldmestoriesaboutthecatacombsandaboutNapoleonBonaparte,andhehadexplainedtomethemeaningofthedifferentceremoniesoftheMassandofthedifferentvestmentswornbythepriest.
Sometimeshehadamusedhimselfbyputting
nehéz
difficultquestionstome,askingmewhatoneshoulddoinbizonyos
certaincircumstancesorwhethersuchandsuchsinsweremortalorvenialoronlyimperfections.Hisquestionsshowedmehowcomplexandmysteriouswere
bizonyos
certaininstitutionsoftheChurchwhichIhadalwaysregardedasthesimplestacts.ThedutiesofthepriesttowardstheEucharistandtowardsthesecrecyoftheconfessional
tűntek
seemedsogravetomethatIwonderedhowanybodyhadeverfoundinhimselfthecouragetoundertakethem;andIwasnotsurprisedwhenhetoldmethatthefathersoftheChurchhadwrittenbooksasthickasthePostOfficeDirectoryandascloselyprintedasthelawnoticesinthenewspaper,elucidatingalltheseintricatequestions.
Gyakran
OftenwhenIthoughtofthisIcouldmakenoansweroronlyaveryfoolishandhaltingoneuponwhichheusedtosmileandnodhisheadkétszer
twiceorthrice.SometimesheusedtoputmethroughtheresponsesoftheMasswhichhehadmademelearnbyheart;
and,asIpattered,heusedto
mosolygott
smilepensivelyandnodhishead,nowandthenpushinghatalmas
hugepinchesofsnuffupeachnostrilalternately.Whenhe
mosolygott
smiledheusedtouncoverhisbigdiscolouredteethandlethistonguelieuponhislowerlip—ahabitwhichhadmademefeeluneasyintheelején
beginningofouracquaintancebeforeIknewhimwell.AsIwalkedalonginthesunIrememberedoldCotter’swordsandtriedtorememberwhathadhappenedafterwardsinthedream.
IrememberedthatIhadnoticedlongvelvetcurtainsandaswinginglampofantiquefashion.
IfeltthatIhadbeenveryfaraway,insomelandwherethecustomswerestrange—inPersia,Ithought....
ButIcouldnotremembertheendofthedream.
Inthe
esténként
eveningmyaunttookmewithhertovisitthehouseofmourning.Itwasaftersunset;
butthewindow-panesofthehousesthatlookedtothewestreflectedthetawny
arany
goldofagreatbankofclouds.Nanniereceivedusinthehall;
and,asitwouldhavebeenunseemlytohaveshoutedather,myauntshookhandswithherforall.
Theoldwomanpointedupwardsinterrogativelyand,onmyaunt’snodding,proceededtotoilupthenarrowstaircasebeforeus,herbowedheadbeingscarcely
felett
abovethelevelofthebanister-rail.Atthefirstlandingshestoppedandbeckonedus
előre
forwardencouraginglytowardstheopendoorofthedead-room.Myauntwentinandtheoldwoman,seeingthatIhesitatedtoenter,begantobeckontomeagainrepeatedlywithherhand.
Iwentinontiptoe.
Theroomthroughthelaceendofthe
vak
blindwassuffusedwithduskygoldenlightamidwhichthecandleslookedlikepalethinflames.Hehadbeencoffined.
Nanniegavetheleadandwethreekneltdownatthefootofthebed.
IpretendedtopraybutIcouldnotgathermythoughtsbecausetheoldwoman’smutteringsdistractedme.
Inoticedhowclumsilyherskirtwashookedatthebackandhowtheheelsofherclothbootsweretroddendownalltooneside.
Thefancycametomethattheoldpriestwas
mosolyog
smilingashelaythereinhiscoffin.Butno.WhenweroseandwentuptotheheadofthebedIsawthathewasnot
mosolygott
smiling.Therehelay,solemnandcopious,vestedasforthealtar,his
nagy
largehandslooselyretainingachalice.Hisfacewasverytruculent,greyandmassive,withblackcavernousnostrilsandcircledbyascantywhitefur.
Therewasa
súlyos
heavyodourintheroom—theflowers.Weblessedourselvesandcameaway.
InthelittleroomdownstairswefoundElizaseatedinhisarm-chairinstate.
IgropedmywaytowardsmyusualchairinthecornerwhileNanniewenttothesideboardandbroughtoutadecanterofsherryandsomewine-glasses.
Shesettheseonthetableandinvitedustotakealittle
pohár
glassofwine.Then,athersister’sbidding,shefilledoutthesherryintotheglassesandpassedthemtous.
ShepressedmetotakesomecreamcrackersalsobutIdeclinedbecauseIthoughtIwouldmaketoomuchnoiseeatingthem.
Sheseemedtobesomewhatdisappointedatmyrefusalandwentoverquietlytothesofawhereshesatdownbehindhersister.
Noonespoke:
weallgazedatthe
üres
emptyfireplace.MyauntwaiteduntilElizasighedandthensaid:.
“Ah,well,he’sgonetoabetterworld.”
Elizasighedagainandbowedherheadinassent.
Myauntfingeredthestemofherwine-glassbeforesippingalittle.
“Didhe...
peacefully?”
sheasked.
“Oh,quitepeacefully,ma’am,”saidEliza.
“Youcouldn’ttellwhenthebreathwentoutofhim.
Hehadabeautifuldeath,Godbepraised.”
“Andeverything...?”
“FatherO’RourkewasinwithhimaTuesdayandanointedhimandpreparedhimandall.”
“Heknewthen?”
“Hewasquiteresigned.”
“Helooksquiteresigned,”saidmyaunt.
“That’swhatthewomanwehadintowashhimsaid.
Shesaidhejustlookedasifhewasasleep,helookedthatpeacefulandresigned.
Noonewouldthinkhe’dmakesuchabeautifulcorpse.”
“Yes,indeed,”saidmyaunt.
Shesippedalittlemorefromherglassandsaid:.
“Well,MissFlynn,atanyrateitmustbeagreatcomfortforyoutoknowthatyoudidallyoucouldforhim.
Youwerebothverykindtohim,Imustsay.”
Elizasmoothedherdressoverherknees.
“Ah,poorJames!”
shesaid.
“Godknowswedoneallwecould,aspoorasweare—wewouldn’tseehimwantanythingwhilehewasinit.”
Nanniehadleanedherheadagainstthesofa-pillowandseemedabouttofallasleep.
“There’spoorNannie,”saidEliza,lookingather,“she’sworeout.
Alltheworkwehad,sheandme,gettinginthewomantowashhimandthenlayinghimoutandthenthecoffinandthenarrangingabouttheMassinthechapel.
OnlyforFatherO’RourkeIdon’tknowwhatwe’dhavedoneatall.
ItwashimbroughtusallthemflowersandthemtwocandlesticksoutofthechapelandwroteoutthenoticefortheFreeman’sGeneralandtookchargeofallthepapersforthecemeteryandpoorJames’sinsurance.”
“Wasn’tthatgoodofhim?”
saidmyaunt.
Elizaclosedhereyesandshookherheadslowly.
“Ah,there’snofriendsliketheoldfriends,”shesaid,“whenallissaidanddone,nofriendsthatabodycantrust.”
“Indeed,that’strue,”saidmyaunt.
“AndI’msurenowthathe’sgonetohiseternalrewardhewon’tforgetyouandallyourkindnesstohim.”
“Ah,poorJames!”
saidEliza.
“Hewasnogreattroubletous.
Youwouldn’thearhiminthehouseanymorethannow.
Still,Iknowhe’sgoneandalltothat....”
“It’swhenit’salloverthatyou’llmisshim,”saidmyaunt.
“Iknowthat,”saidEliza.
“Iwon’tbebringinghiminhiscupofbeef-teaanymore,
sem
noryou,ma’am,sendinghimhissnuff.Ah,poorJames!”
Shestopped,asifshewerecommuningwiththepastandthensaidshrewdly:.
“Mindyou,Inoticedtherewassomethingqueercomingoverhimlatterly.
WheneverI’dbringinhissouptohimthereI’dfindhimwithhisbreviaryfallentothe
földre
floor,lyingbackinthechairandhisszája
mouthopen.”Shelaidafingeragainsthernoseandfrowned:
thenshecontinued:.
“Butstillandallhekeptonsayingthatbeforethe
nyár
summerwasoverhe’dgooutforadriveonefinedayjusttoseetheoldhouseagainwherewewereallborndowninIrishtownandtakemeandNanniewithhim.Ifwecouldonlygetoneofthemnew-fangledcarriagesthatmakesnonoisethatFatherO’Rourketoldhimabout,themwiththerheumaticwheels,forthedaycheap—hesaid,atJohnnyRush’soverthewaythereanddriveoutthethreeofustogetherofaSunday
este
evening.Hehadhismindsetonthat....
PoorJames!”
“TheLordhavemercyonhissoul!”
saidmyaunt.
Elizatookoutherhandkerchiefandwipedhereyeswithit.
Thensheputitbackagaininherpocketandgazedintothe
üres
emptygrateforsometimewithoutspeaking.