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diff --git a/20336-h/20336-h.htm b/20336-h/20336-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5f26e13 --- /dev/null +++ b/20336-h/20336-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1781 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Miraculous Revenge (Little Blue Book No. 215), by Bernard Shaw. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: .8em; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Miraculous Revenge, by Bernard Shaw + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Miraculous Revenge + Little Blue Book #215 + +Author: Bernard Shaw + +Editor: E. Haldeman-Julius + +Release Date: January 11, 2007 [EBook #20336] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MIRACULOUS REVENGE *** + + + + +Produced by Ted Garvin, Diane Monico, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net. + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + + +<h3>LITTLE BLUE BOOK NO. 215</h3> + +<h4>Edited by E. Haldeman-Julius<br /><br /><br /></h4> + + +<h1>The Miraculous<br /> +Revenge</h1> + +<h2>Bernard Shaw<br /><br /><br /><br /></h2> + +<h4>HALDEMAN-JULIUS COMPANY<br /> +GIRARD, KANSAS</h4> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="center">PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE MIRACULOUS REVENGE</h2> + +<p class="figcenter" style="width: 440px;"> +<img src="images/image001.jpg" width="440" height="600" alt="Bernard Shaw" title="Bernard Shaw" /> +<span class="caption">Bernard Shaw</span> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE MIRACULOUS REVENGE</h2> + + +<p>I arrived in Dublin on the evening of the fifth +of August, and drove to the residence of my +uncle, the Cardinal Archbishop. He is like +most of my family, deficient in feeling, and +consequently averse to me personally. He lives +in a dingy house, with a side-long view of the +portico of his cathedral from the front windows, +and of a monster national school from +the back. My uncle maintains no retinue. The +people believe that he is waited upon by angels. +When I knocked at the door, an old woman, +his only servant, opened it, and informed me +that her master was then officiating at the +cathedral, and that he had directed her to prepare +dinner for me in his absence. An unpleasant +smell of salt fish made me ask her what +the dinner consisted of. She assured me that +she had cooked all that could be permitted in +his Holiness's house on Friday. On my asking +her further why on Friday, she replied that +Friday was a fast day. I bade her tell His +Holiness that I had hoped to have the pleasure +of calling on him shortly, and drove to the +hotel in Sackville-street, where I engaged +apartments and dined.</p> + +<p>After dinner I resumed my eternal search—I +know not for what: it drives me to and fro +like another Cain. I sought in the streets without +success. I went to the theatre. The music +was execrable, the scenery poor. I had seen +the play a month before in London with the +same beautiful artist in the chief part. Two +years had passed since, seeing her for the first +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span>time, I had hoped that she, perhaps, might be +the long-sought mystery. It had proved otherwise. +On this night I looked at her and listened +to her for the sake of that bygone hope, and +applauded her generously when the curtain +fell. But I went out lonely still. When I had +supped at a restaurant, I returned to my hotel, +and tried to read. In vain. The sound of feet +in the corridors as the other occupants of the +hotel went to bed distracted my attention from +my book. Suddenly it occurred to to me that I +had never quite understood my uncle's character. +He, father to a great flock of poor and +ignorant Irish; an austere and saintly man, +to whom livers of hopeless lives daily appealed +for help heavenward; who was reputed never +to have sent away a troubled peasant without +relieving him of his burden by sharing it; +whose knees were worn less by the altar steps +than by the tears and embraces of the guilty +and wretched: he refused to humor my light +extravagances, or to find time to talk with me +of books, flowers, and music. Had I not been +mad to expect it? Now that I needed sympathy +myself, I did him justice. I desired to be with +a true-hearted man, and mingle my tears with +his.</p> + +<p>I looked at my watch. It was nearly an hour +past midnight. In the corridor the lights were +out, except one jet at the end. I threw a cloak +upon my shoulders, put on a Spanish hat and +left my apartment, listening to the echoes of +my measured steps retreating through the +deserted passages. A strange sight arrested me +on the landing of the grand staircase. Through +an open door I saw the moonlight shining +through the windows of a saloon in which +some entertainment had recently taken place. +I looked at my watch again: it was but one +o'clock; and yet the guests had departed. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> +entered the room, my boots ringing loudly on +the waxed boards. On a chair lay a child's cloak +and a broken toy. The entertainment had been +a children's party. I stood for a time looking +at the shadow of my cloaked figure on the +floor, and at the disordered decorations, ghostly +in the white light. Then I saw there was a +grand piano still open in the middle of the +room. My fingers throbbed as I sat down before +it and expressed all I felt in a grand +hymn which seemed to thrill the cold stillness +of the shadows into a deep hum of approbation, +and to people the radiance of the moon +with angels. Soon there was a stir without +too, as if the rapture were spreading abroad. +I took up the chant triumphantly with my +voice, and the empty saloon resounded as +though to the thunder of an orchestra.</p> + +<p>"Hallo sir!" "Confound you, sir—" "Do you +suppose that this—" "What the deuce—?"</p> + +<p>I turned; and silence followed. Six men, +partially dressed, with disheveled hair, stood +regarding me angrily. They all carried candles. +One of them had a bootjack, which he +held like a truncheon. Another, the foremost, +had a pistol. The night porter was behind +trembling.</p> + +<p>"Sir," said the man with the revolver, coarsely, +"may I ask whether you are mad, that you +disturb people at this hour with such unearthly +noise?"</p> + +<p>"Is it possible that you dislike it?" I replied +courteously.</p> + +<p>"Dislike it!" said he, stamping with rage. +"Why—damn everything—do you suppose we +were enjoying it?"</p> + +<p>"Take care: he's mad," whispered the man +with the bootjack.</p> + +<p>I began to laugh. Evidently they did think<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +me mad. Unaccustomed to my habits, and ignorant +of the music as they probably were, +the mistake, however absurd, was not unnatural. +I rose. They came closer to one another; +and the night porter ran away.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," I said, "I am sorry for you. +Had you lain still and listened, we should all +have been the better and happier. But what +you have done, you cannot undo. Kindly inform +the night porter that I am gone to visit +my uncle, the Cardinal Archbishop. Adieu!"</p> + +<p>I strode past them, and left them whispering +among themselves. Some minutes later I +knocked at the door of the Cardinal's house. +Presently a window opened and the moonbeams +fell on a grey head, with a black cap that +seemed ashy pale against the unfathomable +gloom of the shadow beneath the stone sill.</p> + +<p>"Who are you?"</p> + +<p>"I am Zeno Legge."</p> + +<p>"What do you want at this hour?"</p> + +<p>The question wounded me. "My dear uncle," +I exclaimed, "I know you do not intend it, but +you make me feel unwelcome. Come down +and let me in, I beg."</p> + +<p>"Go to your hotel," he said sternly. "I will +see you in the morning. Goodnight." He disappeared +and closed the window.</p> + +<p>I felt that if I let this rebuff pass, I should +not feel kindly towards my uncle in the morning, +nor indeed at any future time. I therefore +plied the knocker with my right hand, +and kept the bell ringing with my left until +I heard the door chain rattle within. The Cardinal's +expression was grave nearly to moroseness +as he confronted me on the threshold.</p> + +<p>"Uncle," I cried, grasping his hand, "do not +reproach me. Your door is never shut against<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> +the wretched. Let us sit up all night and +talk."</p> + +<p>"You may thank my position and my charity +for your admission, Zeno," he said. "For the +sake of the neighbors, I had rather you played +the fool in my study than upon my doorstep +at this hour. Walk upstairs quietly if you +please. My housekeeper is a hard-working +woman: the little sleep she allows herself +must not be disturbed."</p> + +<p>"You have a noble heart, uncle. I shall creep +like a mouse."</p> + +<p>"This is my study," he said as we entered +an ill-furnished den on the second floor. "The +only refreshment I can offer you, if you desire +any, is a bunch of raisins. The doctors have +forbidden you to touch stimulants, I believe."</p> + +<p>"By heaven——!" He raised his finger. "Pardon +me: I was wrong to swear. But I had +totally forgotten the doctors. At dinner I had a +bottle of Grave."</p> + +<p>"Humph! You have no business to be traveling +alone. Your mother promised that Bushy +should come over here with you."</p> + +<p>"Pshaw! Bushy is not a man of feeling. Besides, +he is a coward. He refused to come with +me because I purchased a revolver."</p> + +<p>"He should have taken the revolver from +you, and kept to his post."</p> + +<p>"Why will you persist in treating me like a +child, uncle? I am very impressionable, I grant +you; but I have gone around the world alone, +and do not need to be dry-nursed through a +tour in Ireland."</p> + +<p>"What do you intend to do during your stay +here?"</p> + +<p>I had no plans and instead of answering I +shrugged my shoulders and looked round the +apartment. There was a <a name="statue" id="statue"></a>statue of the Virgin<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> +upon my uncle's desk. I looked at its face, as +he was wont to look in the midst of his labor. +I saw there eternal peace. The air became +luminous with an infinite net-work of the +jeweled rings of Paradise descending in roseate +clouds upon us.</p> + +<p>"Uncle," I said, bursting into the sweetest +tears I had ever shed, "my wanderings are +over. I will enter the Church, if you will help +me. Let us read together the third part of +Faust; for I understand it at last."</p> + +<p>"Hush, man," he said, half rising with an +expression of alarm. "Control yourself."</p> + +<p>"Do not let tears mislead you. I am calm +and strong. Quick, let us have Goethe:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Das Unbeschreibliche,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Hier ist gethan;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Das Ewig-Weibliche,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Zieht uns hinan."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"Come, come. Dry your eyes and be quiet. +I have no library here."</p> + +<p>"But I have—in my portmanteau at the hotel," +I said, rising. "Let me go for it. I will +return in fifteen minutes."</p> + +<p>"The devil is in you, I believe. Cannot——"</p> + +<p>I interrupted him with a shout of laughter.</p> + +<p>"Cardinal," I said noisily, "you have become +profane; and a profane priest is always the +best of good fellows. Let us have some wine; +and I will sing you a German beer song."</p> + +<p>"Heaven forgive me if I do you wrong," he +said; "but I believe God has laid the expiation +of some sin on your unhappy head. Will you +favor me with your attention for awhile? I +have something to say to you, and I have also +to get some sleep before my hour of rising, +which is half-past five."</p> + +<p>"My usual hour for retiring—when I retire at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> +all. But proceed. My fault is not inattention, +but over-susceptibility."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, I want you to go to Wicklow. +My reasons——"</p> + +<p>"No matter what they may be," said I, rising +again. "It is enough that you desire me to +go. I shall start forthwith."</p> + +<p>"Zeno! will you sit down and listen to me?"</p> + +<p>I sank upon my chair reluctantly. "Ardor +is a crime in your eyes, even when it is shewn +in your service," I said. "May I turn down the +light?"</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"To bring on my sombre mood, in which I +am able to listen with tireless patience."</p> + +<p>"I will turn it down myself. Will that do?"</p> + +<p>I thanked him and composed myself to listen +in the shadow. My eyes, I felt, glittered. I +was like Poe's raven.</p> + +<p>"Now for my reasons for sending you to +Wicklow. First, for your own sake. If you +stay in town, or in any place where excitement +can be obtained by any means, you will be in +Swift's Hospital in a week. You must live in +the country, under the eye of one upon whom +I can depend. And you must have something +to do to keep you out of mischief and away +from your music and painting and poetry, +which, Sir John Richard writes to me, are <a name="dangerous" id="dangerous"></a>dangerous +for you in your present morbid state. +Second, because I can entrust you with a task +which, in the hands of a sensible man might +bring discredit on the Church. In short, I +want you to investigate a miracle."</p> + +<p>He looked attentively at me. I sat like a +statue.</p> + +<p>"You understand me?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Nevermore," I replied, hoarsely. "Pardon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +me," I added, amused at the trick my imagination +had played me, "I understand you perfectly. +Proceed."</p> + +<p>"I hope you do. Well, four miles distant from +the town of Wicklow is a village called Four +Mile Water. The resident priest is Father +Hickey. You have heard of the miracles at +Knock?"</p> + +<p>I winked.</p> + +<p>"I did not ask you what you think of them +but whether you have heard of them. I see +you have. I need not tell you that even a +miracle may do more harm than good to the +Church in this country, unless it can be proved +so thoroughly that her powerful and jealous +enemies are silenced by the testimony of followers +of their heresy. Therefore, when I saw +in a Wexford newspaper last week a description +of a strange manifestation of the Divine +Power which was said to have taken place at +Four Mile Water, I was troubled in my mind +about it. So I wrote to Father Hickey, bidding +him give me an account of the matter if it +were true, and, if it were not, to denounce from +the altar the author of the report, and contradict +it in the paper at once. This is his reply. +He says, well, the first part is about Church +matters: I need not trouble you with it. He +goes on to say——"</p> + +<p>"One moment. Is this his own hand-writing? +It does not look like a man's."</p> + +<p>"He suffers from rheumatism in the fingers +of his right hand; and his niece, who is an +orphan, and lives with him, acts as his +amanuensis. Well——"</p> + +<p>"Stay. What is her name?"</p> + +<p>"Her name? Kate Hickey."</p> + +<p>"How old is she?"</p> + +<p>"Tush, man, she is only a little girl. If she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> +were old enough to concern you, I should not +send you into her way. Have you any more +questions to ask about her?"</p> + +<p>"I fancy her in a white veil at the rite of +confirmation, a type of innocence. Enough of +her. What says Reverend Hickey of the apparitions?"</p> + +<p>"They are not apparitions. I will read you +what he says. Ahem! 'In reply to your inquiries +concerning the late miraculous event in this +parish, I have to inform you that I can vouch +for its truth, and that I can be confirmed not +only by the inhabitants of the place, who are +all Catholics, but by every persons acquainted +with the former situation of the graveyard +referred to, including the Protestant Archdeacon +of Baltinglas, who spends six weeks annually +in the neighborhood. The newspaper account +is incomplete and inaccurate. The following +are the facts: About four years ago, a +man named Wolfe Tone Fitzgerald settled in +this village as a farrier. His antecedents did +not transpire, and he had no family. He lived +by himself; was very careless of his person; +and when in his cups as he often was, regarded +the honor neither of God nor man in his conversation. +Indeed if it were not speaking ill of +the dead, one might say that he was a dirty, +drunken, blasphemous blackguard. Worse +again, he was, I fear, an atheist; for he never +attended Mass, and gave His Holiness worse +language even than he gave the Queen. I +should have mentioned that he was a bitter +rebel, and boasted that his grandfather had +been out in '98, and his father with Smith +O'Brien. At last he went by the name of Brimstone +Billy, and was held up in the village as +the type of all wickedness.</p> + +<p>"'You are aware that our graveyard, situate<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> +on the north side of the water, is famous +throughout the country as the burial-place of +the nuns of St. Ursula, the hermit of Four Mile +Water, and many other holy people. No Protestant +has ever ventured to enforce his legal +right of interment there, though two have died +in the parish within my own recollection. Three +weeks ago, this Fitzgerald died in a fit brought +on by drink; and a great hullabaloo was raised +in the village when it became known that he +would be buried in the graveyard. The body +had to be watched to prevent its being stolen +and buried at the crossroads. My people were +greatly disappointed when they were told I +could do nothing to stop the burial, particularly +as I of course refused to read any service +on the occasion. However, I bade them not +interfere; and the interment was effected on +the 14th of July, late in the evening, and long +after the legal hour. There was no disturbance. +Next morning, the graveyard was found moved +to the south side of the water, with the one +newly-filled grave left behind on the north +side; and thus they both remain. The departed +saints would not lie with the reprobate. I can +testify to it on the oath of a Christian priest; +and if this will not satisfy those outside the +Church, everyone, as I said before, who remembers +where the graveyard was two months +ago, can confirm me.</p> + +<p>"'I respectfully suggest that a thorough investigation +into the truth of this miracle be +proposed to a committee of Protestant gentlemen. +They shall not be asked to accept a +single fact on hearsay from my people. The +ordnance maps shew where the graveyard was; +and anyone can see for himself where it is. +I need not tell your Eminence what a rebuke +this would be to those enemies of the holy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +Church that have sought to put a stain on her +by discrediting the late wonderful manifestations +at Knock Chapel. If they come to Four +Mile Water, they need cross-examine no one. +They will be asked to believe nothing but their +own senses.</p> + +<p>"'Awaiting your Eminence's counsel to guide +me further in the matter,</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 8em;">"'I am, etc.'</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"Well, Zeno," said my uncle: "what do you +think of Father Hickey now?"</p> + +<p>"Uncle: do not ask me. Beneath this roof I +desire to believe everything. The Reverend +Hickey has appealed strongly to my love of +legend. Let us admire the poetry of his narrative +and ignore the balance of probability +between a Christian priest telling a lie on his +own oath and a graveyard swimming across a +river in the middle of the night and forgetting +to return."</p> + +<p>"Tom Hickey is not telling a lie, you may +take my word on that. But he may be mistaken."</p> + +<p>"Such a mistake amounts to insanity. It is +true that I myself, awakening suddenly in the +depth of night have found myself convinced +that the position of my bed had been reversed. +But on opening my eyes the illusion ceased. I +fear Mr. Hickey is mad. Your best course is +this. Send down to Four Mile Water a perfectly +sane investigator; an acute observer; +one whose perceptive faculties, at once healthy +and subtle, are absolutely unclouded by religious +prejudice. In a word, send me. I will +report to you the true state of affairs in a +few days; and you can then make arrangements +for transferring Hickey from the altar +to the asylum."</p> + +<p>"Yes I had intended to send you. You are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> +wonderfully sharp; and you would make a +capital detective if you could only keep your +mind to one point. But your chief qualifications +for this business is that you are too +crazy to excite the suspicion of those whom +you have to watch. For the affair may be a +trick. If so, I hope and believe that Hickey +has no hand in it. Still, it is my duty to take +every precaution."</p> + +<p>"Cardinal: may I ask whether traces of insanity +have ever appeared in our family?"</p> + +<p>"Except in you and in my grandmother, no. +She was a Pole; and you resemble her personally. +Why do you ask?"</p> + +<p>"Because it has often occurred to me that +you are perhaps a little cracked. Excuse my +candor; but a man who has devoted his life +to the pursuit of a red hat; who accuses everyone +else beside himself of being mad; and is +disposed to listen seriously to a tale of a +peripatetic graveyard, can hardly be quite sane. +Depend upon it, uncle, you want rest and +change. The blood of your Polish grandmother +is in your veins."</p> + +<p>"I hope I may not be committing a sin in +sending a ribald on the church's affairs," he +replied, fervently. "However, we must use the +instruments put into our hands. Is it agreed +that you go?"</p> + +<p>"Had you not delayed me with the story, +which I might as well have learned on the +spot, I should have been there already."</p> + +<p>"There is no occasion for impatience, Zeno. +I must send to Hickey and find a place for +you. I shall tell him you are going to recover +your health, as, in fact, you are. And, Zeno, in +Heaven's name be discreet. Try to act like a +man of sense. Do not dispute with Hickey on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +matters of religion. Since you are my nephew, +you had better not disgrace me."</p> + +<p>"I shall become an ardent Catholic, and do +you infinite credit, uncle."</p> + +<p>"I wish you would, although you would hardly +be an acquisition to the Church. And now +I must turn you out. It is nearly three o'clock; +and I need some sleep. Do you know your +way back to your hotel?"</p> + +<p>"I need not stir. I can sleep in this chair. +Go to bed, and never mind me."</p> + +<p>"I shall not close my eyes until you are +safely out of the house. Come, rouse yourself +and say good-night."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The following is a copy of my first report to +the Cardinal:—</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">"Four Mile Water, County Wicklow,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">10th August.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"My Dear Uncle,</p> + +<p>"The miracle is genuine. I have affected perfect +credulity in order to throw the Hickeys +and countryfolk off their guard with me. I have +listened to their method of convincing the sceptical +strangers. I have examined the ordnance +maps, and cross-examined the neighboring +Protestant gentlefolk. I have spent a day upon +the ground on each side of the water, and +have visited it at midnight. I have considered +the upheaval theories, subsidence theories, volcanic +theories, and tidal wave theories which +the provincial savants have suggested. They +are all untenable. There is only one scoffer in +the district, an Orangeman; and he admits the +removal of the cemetery, but says it was dug +up and transplanted in the night by a body of +men under the command of Father Tom. This +is also out of the question. The interment of +Brimstone Billy was the first which had taken<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +place for four years; and his is the only grave +which bears the trace of recent digging. It is +alone on the north bank; and the inhabitants +shun it after night fall. As each passer-by +during the day throws a stone upon it, it will +soon be marked by a large cairn. The graveyard, +with a ruined stone chapel still standing +in its midst, is on the south side. You may +send down a committee to investigate the matter +as soon as you please. There can be no +doubt as to the miracle having actually taken +place, as recorded by Hickey. As for me, I +have grown so accustomed to it that if the +county Wicklow were to waltz off with me to +Middlesex, I should be quite impatient of any +expression of surprise from my friends in +London.</p> + +<p>"Is not the above a businesslike statement? +Away, then, with this stale miracle. If you +would see for yourself a miracle which can +never pall, a vision of youth and health to be +crowned with garlands for ever, come down +and see Kate Hickey, whom you suppose to be +a little girl. Illusion, my lord cardinal, illusion! +She is seventeen, with a bloom and a +brogue that would lay your asceticism in ashes +at a flash. To her I am an object of wonder, +a strange man bred in wicked cities. She is +courted by six feet of farming material, chopped +off a spare length of coarse humanity by +the Almighty, and flung into Wicklow to plough +the fields. His name is Phil Langan; and he +hates me. I have to consort with him for the +sake of Father Tom, whom I entertain vastly +by stories of your wild oats sown at Salamanca. +I exhausted my authentic anecdotes +the first day; and now I invent gallant escapades +with Spanish donnas, in which you figure +as a youth of unstable morals. This <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>delights +Father Tom infinitely. I feel that I have +done you a service by thus casting on the cold +sacerdotal abstraction which formerly represented +you in Kate's imagination a ray of vivifying +passion.</p> + +<p>"What a country this is! A Hesperidean +garden: such skies! Adieu, uncle.</p> + +<p><span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">"Zeno Legge."</span></p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Behold me, at Four Mile Water, in love. I +had been in love frequently; but not oftener +than once a year had I encountered a woman +who affected me so seriously as Kate Hickey. +She was so shrewd, and yet so flippant! When +I spoke of art she yawned. When I deplored +the sordidness of the world she laughed, and +called me "poor fellow!" When I told her what +a treasure of beauty and freshness she had she +ridiculed me. When I reproached her with her +brutality she became angry, and sneered at +me for being what she called a fine gentleman. +One sunny afternoon we were standing at the +gate of her uncle's house, she looking down the +dusty road for the detestable Langan, I watching +the spotless azure sky, when she said:</p> + +<p>"How soon are you going back to London?"</p> + +<p>"I am not going back to London. Miss Hickey. +I am not yet tired of Four Mile Water."</p> + +<p>"I am sure that Four Mile Water ought to be +proud of your approbation."</p> + +<p>"You disapprove of my liking it, then? Or +is it that you grudge me the happiness I +have found here? I think Irish ladies grudge +a man a moment's peace."</p> + +<p>"I wonder you have ever prevailed on yourself +to associate with Irish ladies, since they +are so far beneath you."</p> + +<p>"Did I say they were beneath me, Miss +Hickey? I feel that I have made a deep impression +on you."</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> +<p>"Indeed! Yes, you're quite right. I assure +you I can't sleep at night for thinking of you, +Mr. Legge. It's the best a Christian can do, +seeing you think so mightly little of yourself."</p> + +<p>"You are triply wrong, Miss Hickey: wrong +to be sarcastic with me, wrong to discourage +the candor with which you think of me sometimes, +and wrong to discourage the candor with +which I always avow that I think constantly +of myself."</p> + +<p>"Then you had better not speak to me, since +I have no manners."</p> + +<p>"Again! Did I say you had no manners? +The warmest expressions of regard from my +mouth seem to reach your ears transformed +into insults. Were I to repeat the Litany of +the Blessed Virgin, you would retort as though +I had been reproaching you. This is because +you hate me. You never misunderstand Langan, +whom you love."</p> + +<p>"I don't know what London manners are, +Mr. Legge; but in Ireland gentlemen are expected +to mind their own business. How dare +you say I love Mr. Langan?"</p> + +<p>"Then you do not love him?"</p> + +<p>"It is nothing to you whether I love him or +not."</p> + +<p>"Nothing to me that you hate me and love +another?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't say I hated you. You're not so very +clever yourself at understanding what people +say, though you make such a fuss because they +don't understand you." Here, as she glanced +down the road she suddenly looked glad.</p> + +<p>"Aha!" I said.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by 'Aha!'"</p> + +<p>"No matter. I will now show you what a +man's sympathy is. As you perceived just +then, Langan—who is too tall for his age, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>by-the-by—is +coming to pay you a visit. Well, instead +of staying with you, as a jealous woman +would, I will withdraw."</p> + +<p>"I don't care whether you go or stay, I'm +sure. I wonder what you would give to be +as fine a man as Mr. Langan?"</p> + +<p>"All I possess: I swear it! But solely because +you admire tall men more than broad +views. Mr. Langan may be defined geometrically +as length without breadth; altitude +without position; a line on the landscape, not +a point in it."</p> + +<p>"How very clever you are!"</p> + +<p>"You don't understand me, I see. Here +comes your lover, stepping over the wall like +a camel. And here go I out through the gate +like a Christian. Good afternoon, Mr. Langan. +I am going because Miss Hickey has something +to say to you about me which she would rather +not say in my presence. You will excuse me?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'll excuse you," he said boorishly. I +smiled, and went out. Before I was out of +hearing, Kate whispered vehemently to him, "I +hate that fellow."</p> + +<p>I smiled again; but I had scarcely done so +when my spirits fell. I walked hastily away +with a coarse threatening sound in my ears +like that of the clarionets whose sustained low +notes darken the woodland in "Der Frieschutz." +I found myself presently at the graveyard. It +was a barren place, enclosed by a mud wall +with a gate to admit funerals, and numerous +gaps to admit peasantry, who made short cuts +across it as they went to and fro between Four +Mile Water and the market town. The graves +were mounds overgrown with grass: there was +no keeper; nor were there flowers, railings, or +any other conventionalities that make an English +graveyard repulsive. A great thornbush,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> +near what was called the grave of the holy +sisters, was covered with scraps of cloth and +flannel, attached by peasant women who had +prayed before it. There were three kneeling +there as I enterd; for the reputation of the +place had been revived of late by the miracle; +and a ferry had been established close by, to +conduct visitors over the route taken by the +graveyard. From where I stood I could see on +the opposite bank the heap of stones, perceptibly +increased since my last visit, marking the +deserted grave of Brimstone Billy. I strained +my eyes broodingly at it for some minutes, and +then descended the river bank and entered the +boat.</p> + +<p>"Good evenin t'your honor," said the ferryman, +and set to work to draw the boat over +hand by a rope stretched across the water.</p> + +<p>"Good evening. Is your business beginning +to fall off yet?"</p> + +<p>"Faith, it never was as good as it might a +been. The people that comes from the south +side can see Billy's grave—Lord have mercy on +him!—across the wather; and they think bad +of payin a penny to put a stone over him. It's +them that lives towrst Dublin that makes the +journey. Your honor is the third I've brought +from the south to north this blessed day."</p> + +<p>"When do most people come? In the afternoon, +I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"All hours, sur, except afther dusk. There +isn't a sowl in the counthry ud come within +sight of the grave wanst the sun goes down."</p> + +<p>"And you! do you stay here all night by +yourself?"</p> + +<p>"The holy heavens forbid! Is it me stay +here all night? No, your honor: I tether the +boat at siven o'hlyock, and lave Brimstone<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +Billy—God forgimme!—to take care of it t'll +mornin."</p> + +<p>"It will be stolen some night, I'm afraid."</p> + +<p>"Arra, who'd dar come next or near it, let +alone stale it? Faith, I'd think twice before +lookin at it meself in the dark. God bless your +honor, an gran'che long life."</p> + +<p>I had given him sixpence. I went on to the +reprobate's grave and stood at the foot of it, +looking at the sky, gorgeous with the descent +of the sun. To my English eyes, accustomed +to giant trees, broad lawns, and stately mansions, +the landscape was wild and inhospitable. +The ferryman was already tugging at the rope +on his way back (I had told him that I did not +intend to return that way), and presently I +saw him make the painter fast to the south +bank; put on his coat; and trudge homeward. +I turned to the grave at my feet. Those who +had interred Brimstone Billy, working hastily +at an unlawful hour and in fear of molestation +by the people, had hardly dug a grave. They +had scooped out earth enough to hide their +burden, and no more. A stray goat had kicked +away the corner of the mound and exposed the +coffin. It occurred to me, as I took some of +the stones from the cairn, and heaped them to +repair the breach, that had the miracle been +the work of a body of men, they would have +moved the one grave instead of the many. +Even from a supernatural point of view, it +seemed strange that the sinner should have +banished the elect, when, by their superior +numbers, they might so much more easily have +banished him.</p> + +<p>It was almost dark when I left the spot. +After a walk of half a mile I recrossed the +water by a bridge and returned to the farm +house in which I lodged. Here, finding that I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +had enough of solitude, I only stayed to take +a cup of tea. Then I went to Father Hickey's +cottage.</p> + +<p>Kate was alone when I entered. She looked +up quickly as I opened the door, and turned +away disappointed when she recognized me.</p> + +<p>"Be generous for once," I said. "I have +walked about aimlessly for hours in order to +avoid spoiling the beautiful afternoon for you +by my presence. When the sun was up I +withdrew my shadow from your path. Now +that darkness has fallen, shed some light on +mine. May I stay half an hour?"</p> + +<p>"You may stay as long as you like, of course. +My uncle will soon be home. He is clever +enough to talk to you."</p> + +<p>"What! More sarcasm! Come, Miss Hickey, +help me to spend a pleasant evening. It will +only cost you a smile. I am somewhat cast +down. Four Mile Water is a paradise; but +without you it would be lonely."</p> + +<p>"It must be very lonely for you. I wonder +why you came here."</p> + +<p>"Because I heard that the women here were +all Zerlinas, like you, and the men Masettos, +like Mr. Phil—where are you going to?"</p> + +<p>"Let me pass, Mr. Legge, I had intended +never speaking to you again after the way you +went on about Mr. Langan today; and I +wouldn't either, only my uncle made me promise +not to take any notice of you, because you +were—no matter; but I won't listen to you any +more on the subject."</p> + +<p>"Don't go. I swear never to mention his +name again. I beg your pardon for what I said: +you shall have no further cause for complaint. +Will you forgive me?"</p> + +<p>She sat down evidently disappointed by my +submission. I took a chair, and placed myself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> +near her. She tapped the floor impatiently +with her foot. I saw that there was not a +movement that I could make, not a look, not a +tone of voice, which did not irritate her.</p> + +<p>"You were remarking," I said, "that your +uncle desired you take no notice of me because——"</p> + +<p>She closed her lips and did not answer.</p> + +<p>"I fear that I have offended you again by +my curiosity. But indeed, I had no idea that +he had forbidden you to tell me the reason."</p> + +<p>"He did not forbid me. Since you are so +determined to find out——"</p> + +<p>"No; excuse me. I do not wish to know, I am +sorry I asked."</p> + +<p>"Indeed! Perhaps you would be sorrier if you +were told I only made a secret of it out of consideration +for you."</p> + +<p>"Then your uncle has spoken ill of me behind +my back. If that be so there is no such thing +as a true man in Ireland, I would not have believed +it on the word of any woman alive save +yourself."</p> + +<p>"I never said my uncle was a backbiter. +Just to shew you what he thinks of you, I will +tell you, whether you want to know or not, that +he bid me not mind you because you were +only a poor mad creature, sent down here by +your family to be out of harm's way."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Miss Hickey!"</p> + +<p>"There now! you have got it out of me; +and I wish I had bit my tongue out first. I +sometimes think—that I mayn't sin!—that you +have a bad angel in you."</p> + +<p>"I am glad you told me this," I said gently. +"Do not reproach yourself for having done so, +I beg. Your uncle has been misled by what he +has heard of my family, who are all more or +less insane. Far from being mad, I am actually<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +the only rational man named Legge in the +three kingdoms. I will prove this to you, and +at the same time keep your indiscretion in +countenance, by telling you something I ought +not to tell you. It is this. I am not here as +an invalid or a chance tourist. I am here to +investigate the miracle. The Cardinal, a +shrewd and somewhat erratic man, selected +mine from all the long heads at his disposal +to come down here, and find out the truth of +Father Hickey's story. Would he have entrusted +such a task to a madman, think you?"</p> + +<p>"The truth of—who dared to doubt my +uncle's word? And so you are a spy, a dirty +informer."</p> + +<p>I started. The adjective she had used, +though probably the commonest expression of +contempt in Ireland, is revolting to an Englishman.</p> + +<p>"Miss Hickey," I said: "there is in me, as +you have said, a bad angel. Do not shock my +good angel—who is a person of taste—quite +away from my heart, lest the other be left +undisputed monarch of it. Hark! The chapel +bell is ringing the angelus. Can you, with +that sound softening the darkness of the village +night, cherish a feeling of spite against +one who admires you?"</p> + +<p>"You come between me and my prayers" she +said hysterically, and began to sob. She had +scarcely done so when I heard voices without. +Then Langan and the priest entered.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Phil," she cried, running to him, "take +me away from him: I cant bear——" I turned +towards him, and shewed him my dog-tooth in +a false smile. He felled me at one stroke, as +he might have felled a poplar-tree.</p> + +<p>"Murdher!" exclaimed the priest. "What are +you doin, Phil?"</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p> +<p>"He's an informer," sobbed Kate. "He came +down here to spy on you, uncle, and to try and +show that the blessed miracle was a makeshift. +I knew it long before he told me, by his insulting +ways. He wanted to make love to me."</p> + +<p>I rose with difficulty from beneath the table +where I had lain motionless for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Sir," I said, "I am somewhat dazed by the +recent action of Mr. Langan, whom I beg, the +next time he converts himself into a fulling-mill, +to do so at the expense of a man more +nearly his equal in strength than I. What your +niece has told you is partly true. I am indeed +the Cardinal's spy; and I have already reported +to him that the miracle is a genuine +one. A committee of gentlemen will wait on +you tomorrow to verify it, at my suggestion. +I have thought that the proof might be regarded +by them as more complete if you were +taken by surprise. Miss Hickey: that I admire +all that is admirable in you is but to say that +I have a sense of the beautiful. To say that +I love you would be mere profanity. Mr. Langan: +I have in my pocket a loaded pistol which +I carry from a silly English prejudice against +your countrymen. Had I been the Hercules of +the ploughtail, and you in my place, I should +have been a dead man now. Do not redden: +you are safe as far as I am concerned."</p> + +<p>"Let me tell you before you leave my house +for good," said Father Hickey, who seemed to +have become unreasonably angry, "that you +should never have crossed my threshold if I +had known you were a spy: no, not if your +uncle were his Holiness the Pope himself."</p> + +<p>Here a frightful thing happened to me. I +felt giddy, and put my hand on my head. +Three warm drops trickled over it. I instantly +became murderous. My mouth filled with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> +blood; my eyes were blinded with it. My hand +went involuntarily to the pistol. It is my habit +to obey my impulses instantaneously. Fortunately +the impulse to kill vanished before a +sudden perception of how I might miraculously +humble the mad vanity in which these foolish +people had turned upon me. The blood receded +from my ears; and I again heard and saw +distinctly.</p> + +<p>"And let me tell you," Langan was saying, +"that if you think yourself handier with cold +lead than you are with your fists, I'll exchange +shots with you, and welcome, whenever you +please. Father Tom's credit is the same to +me as my own; and if you say a word against +it, you lie."</p> + +<p>"His credit is in my hands," I said, "I am +the Cardinal's witness. Do you defy me?"</p> + +<p>"There is the door," said the priest, holding +it open before me. "Until you can undo the +visible work of God's hand your testimony +can do no harm to me."</p> + +<p>"Father Hickey," I replied, "before the sun +rises again upon Four Mile Water, I will undo +the visible work of God's hand, and bring the +pointing finger of the scoffer upon your altar."</p> + +<p>I bowed to Kate, and walked out. It was so +dark that I could not at first see the garden +gate. Before I found it, I heard through the +window Father Hickey's voice, saying, "I +wouldn't for ten pounds that this had happened, +Phil. He's as mad as a march hare. The +Cardinal told me so."</p> + +<p>I returned to my lodging, and took a cold +bath to cleanse the blood from my neck and +shoulder. The effect of the blow I had received +was so severe, that even after the +bath and a light meal I felt giddy and languid. +There was an alarum-clock on the mantle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> +piece: I wound it; set the alarum for half-past +twelve; muffled it so that it should not disturb +the people in the adjoining room; and +went to bed, where I slept soundly for an hour +and a quarter. Then the alarum roused me, and +I sprang up before I was thoroughly awake. +Had I hesitated, the desire to relapse into perfect +sleep would have overpowered me. Although +the muscles of my neck were painfully +stiff, and my hands unsteady from my nervous +disturbance, produced by the interruption of +my first slumber, I dressed myself resolutely, +and, after taking a draught of cold water, stole +out of the house. It was exceedingly dark; +and I had some difficulty in finding the cow-house, +whence I borrowed a spade, and a truck +with wheels, ordinarily used for moving sacks +of potatoes. These I carried in my hands until +I was beyond earshot of the house, when +I put the spade on the truck, and wheeled it +along the road to the cemetery. When I approached +the water, knowing that no one would +dare come thereabout at such an hour I made +greater haste, no longer concerning myself +about the rattling of the wheels. Looking across +to the opposite bank, I could see a phosophorescent +glow, marking the lonely grave of Brimstone +Billy. This helped me to find the ferry +station, where, after wandering a little and +stumbling often, I found the boat, and embarked +with my implements. Guided by the +rope, I crossed the water without difficulty; +landed; made fast the boat; dragged the truck +up the bank; and sat down to rest on the +cairn at the grave. For nearly a quarter of +an hour I sat watching the patches of jack-o-lantern +fire, and collecting my strength for the +work before me. Then the distant bell of the +chapel clock tolled one. I arose; took the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +spade; and in about ten minutes uncovered the +coffin, which smelt horribly. Keeping to windward +of it, and using the spade as a lever, I +contrived with great labor to place it on the +truck. I wheeled it without accident to the +landing place, where, by placing the shafts of +the truck upon the stern of the boat and lifting +the foot by main strength, I succeeded in +embarking my load after twenty minutes' toil, +during which I got covered with clay and perspiration, +and several times all but upset the +boat. At the southern bank I had less difficulty +in getting the coffin ashore, dragging +it up to the graveyard.</p> + +<p>It was now past two o'clock, and the dawn +had begun; so that I had no further trouble +for want of light. I wheeled the coffin to a +patch of loamy soil which I had noticed in the +afternoon near the grave of the holy sisters. +I had warmed to my work; my neck no longer +pained me; and I began to dig vigorously, soon +making a shallow trench, deep enough to hide +the coffin with the addition of a mound. The +chill pearl-coloured morning had by this time +quite dissipated the darkness. I could see, and +was myself visible, for miles around. This +alarmed, and made me impatient to finish my +task. Nevertheless, I was forced to rest for a +moment before placing the coffin in the trench. +I wiped my brow and wrists, and again looked +about me. The tomb of the holy women, a massive +slab supported on four stone spheres, was +grey and wet with dew. Near it was the thornbush +covered with rags, the newest of which +were growing gaudy in the radiance which +was stretching up from the coast on the east. +It was time to finish my work. I seized the +truck; laid it alongside the grave; and gradually +pried the coffin off with the spade until<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> +it rolled over into the trench with a hollow +sound like a drunken remonstrance from the +sleeper within. I shovelled the earth round +and over it, working as fast as possible. In +less than a quarter of an hour it was buried. +Ten minutes more sufficed to make the mound +symmetrical, and to clear the adjacent ward. +Then I flung down the spade; threw up my +arms; and vented a sigh of relief and triumph. +But I recoiled as I saw that I was standing +on a barren common, covered with furze. No +product of man's handiwork was near me except +my truck and spade and the grave of +Brimstone Billy, now as lonely as before. I +turned towards the water. On the opposite +bank was the cemetery, with the tomb of the +holy women, the thornbush with its rags stirring +in the morning breeze, and the broken mud +wall. The ruined chapel was there, too, not +a stone shaken from its crumbling walls, not +a sign to shew that it and its precinct were +less rooted in their place than the eternal hills +around.</p> + +<p>I looked down at the grave with a pang of +compassion for the unfortunate Wolf Tone +Fitzgerald, with whom the blessed would not +rest. I was even astonished, though I had +worked expressly to this end. But the birds +were astir, and the cocks crowing. My landlord +was an early riser. I put the spade on the truck +again, and hastened back to the farm, where I +replaced them in the cow-house. Then I stole +into the house, and took a clean pair of boots, +an overcoat, and a silk hat. These with a +change of linen, were sufficient to make my +appearance respectable. I went out again, +bathed in Four Mile Water, took a last look<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> +at the cemetery, and walked to Wicklow, +whence I traveled by the first train to Dublin.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Some months later, at Cairo, I received a +packet of Irish newspapers, and a leading +article, cut from The Times, on the subject of +the miracle. Father Hickey had suffered the +meed of his inhospitable conduct. The committee, +arriving at Four Mile Water the day +after I left, had found the graveyard exactly +where it formerly stood. Father Hickey, taken +by surprise, had attempted to defend himself +by a confused statement, which led the committee +to declare finally that the miracle was +a gross imposture. The Times, commenting on +this after adducing a number of examples of +priestly craft, remarked, "We are glad to learn +that the Rev. Mr. Hickey has been permanently +relieved of his duties as the parish priest of +Four Mile Water by his ecclesiastical superior. +It is less gratifying to have to record +that it has been found possible to obtain two +hundred signatures to a memorial embodying +the absurd defence offered to the committee, +and expressing unabated confidence in the integrity +of Mr. Hickey."</p> + +<p>London, 1885.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="center">Transcriber's Notes:</p> + +<p>Pg. 8: statute changed to <a href="#statue">statue</a> (There was a statue of the Virgin)</p> + +<p>Pg. 10: dangenerous changed to <a href="#dangerous">dangerous</a> (are dangerous for you in +your present morbid state.)</p> + +<p>All other questionable or quaint spellings have been kept as in the +original book.</p> + + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Miraculous Revenge, by Bernard Shaw + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MIRACULOUS REVENGE *** + +***** This file should be named 20336-h.htm or 20336-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/3/3/20336/ + +Produced by Ted Garvin, Diane Monico, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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