Chapter 10 Chapter Seven (Part 2)

Special Handling of Inheritance: Patrick Cleary, shall inherit everything in my house at Drogheda Airport. Eunice Smith, my housekeeper, shall keep the good salary she wishes, and, besides, pay her £5,000 immediately; and a fair and reasonable pension upon her retirement. Minnani Olwain and Catherine Donnelly were to keep their salaries as they wished, and, in addition, an immediate payment of £1,000 each; and a fair and reasonable pension when they retired. Father Ralph de Bricassart, as long as he lived, was paid £10,000 a year for his personal immunity from investigation. This document is duly signed, dated and corroborated by witnesses.

His room faces west.The sun is about to sink.Every summer, the dust curtain floats everywhere in the quiet air, the sun shines through the fine dust, and everything in the world seems to turn golden and purple.The ever-changing clouds are trimmed with dazzling bright edges, and the clouds are steaming and glowing, passing the bloody fireballs that press on the treetops and distant pastures. "Brilliant!" he said. "I admit, Mary, you've got me out. A brilliant shot. I'm the fool, not you." Tears blurred his vision, he couldn't read the words on the paper, and he removed them before they hit the paper.Thirteen million pounds.Thirteen million pounds!It was what he had been chasing in the days before Meggie came.And with her coming he gave up the idea, for he could not ruthlessly engage in such a rivalry and undo her inheritance.But what if he had known the value of the old spider's property?So what happens?He didn't even think about a tenth of this fortune.Thirteen million pounds!

For seven years Paddy and his family lived in the foreman's house and worked feverishly for Mary Carson.What are they for?Just for the pitiful salary she paid?Father Ralph had never heard Paddy complain about such little treatment.He had no doubt that, after his sister's death, since he managed the property on a common stockman's wages while his sons worked as stockmen's on handymen's wages, they would be richly rewarded.He got on with it, growing to love Drogheda as if it were his, and to assume it would be his. "Wonderful, Mary!" said Father Ralph again, and for the first time since his boyhood the tears fell on the backs of his hands, but not on the paper.

Thirteen million pounds, this is also the chance to become Cardinal de Bricassart.It wasn't good for Paddy, his wife, his sons -- and Meggie.She sees through him like a devil!She stripped Paddy of everything.It was clear what he was going to do: he could throw the will on the kitchen stove and stab it into the hearth without a moment's hesitation.But she had made up her mind that Paddy was safe from delusions, that after her death he would be much more comfortable on Drogheda than in her life, and it was almost impossible for Drogheda to be taken from him.Yes, it is a matter of interest and entitlement, but the land itself is not acquired.No, he will not be the owner of that incredible thirteen million pounds.However, he will be well respected and will receive a decent amount of alimony.Meggie wasn't going to starve, or wander the world barefoot.She would not be Miss Meggie, nor be on an equal footing with Miss Carmichael and her equals.They will be respected and recognized by society, but they will not enter the top class of society.You will never be able to enter the top class of society.

Thirteen million pounds.It was his chance to escape Gillambow and a lifetime of obscurity; his chance to win a place in the Church's executive hierarchy, guaranteeing his reward and his ascension to the top.Now he is young enough to make up for the ground he lost.Mary Carson vindictively made Killambo the center of the bishop's legate; the shock would go all the way to Rome.Although the church is very rich, thirteen million pounds is thirteen million pounds.Even the church cannot take it lightly.Moreover, it was his personal strength that had earned the money, and Mary Carson had acknowledged his strength in writing.He knew that Paddy would never be able to dispute the will, and Mary Carson could never, God punish her.Oh, of course, Paddy would fly into a rage and never want to see him or speak to him again, but his resentment wouldn't lead to a lawsuit.

Has he made up his mind?Did he already know what he was going to do the moment he read her will?The tears had dried, and Ralph stood up with his old grace, and after making sure that there were no creases in the whole hem of his clothes, he went to the door.He had to go to Kiri to get a surplice and vestments.But first, he wanted to take another look at Mary Carson. Although the windows were open, the room was filled with a foul, dull stench; there was not a breath of wind, and the listless curtains were motionless.He walked steadily to the bed and stood there looking down.In every wet spot on her face, fly eggs had begun to hatch and maggots had begun to hatch, her swollen arms had turned into green lumps, and the skin had been torn.oh god.You disgusting old spider.You have won, but what a victory it is.It was the triumph of one caricature on the brink of dung over another.You can't beat my Meggie, and you can't take from her what you'll never have.I may be burning in hell beside you, but I know what hell has in store for you: you'll see I don't care when you insist we rot together for eternity...

Paddy was waiting for him downstairs in the hall, pale and bewildered. "Ah, Father!" he said, stepping forward. "Isn't it dreadful? What a shock! I never expected her to go like this; she was so well last night! Dear God, what shall I do?" "Have you seen her?" "God bless, I've seen it!" "Then you know what has to be done. I've never seen a corpse decompose so quickly. If you don't put her in some sort of container with dignity within a few hours, you'll have to put her Dumped into the petrol tank. First thing in the morning, she has to be buried. No need to waste time making her a pretty coffin and covering it with roses from the garden or something. But hurry up , man! I'm going to Gilly to get my vestments."

"Come back soon, Father!" Paddy pleaded. But Father Ralph's visit took much longer than the visit to the rectory alone.Before he turned the car in the direction of the priest's house.First drove the car to the more prosperous side street of Gillanbo, and came to a rather tacky apartment located in the garden. Harry Goff had just sat down to eat, but when the maid told him who his visitor was, he went into the drawing-room. "Father, would you like to have some with us? Corned beef, cabbage, boiled potatoes, and parsley sauce. The beef isn't too salty this time."

"No, Harry, I can't stay. I'm just here to tell you that Mary Carson died this morning." "Holy Jesus! I was there last night! How well she looks, Father!" "I know. She was all right when I helped her upstairs about three o'clock. But she must have died just after bedtime. Mrs. Smith found her dead at six o'clock this evening. Yes. She'd been dead for a long time by then, and she'd been in a bad shape. The room was closed like an incubator, stuffed with heat all day long. God, if I If only I could forget seeing her that way! It's just unspeakable, Harry, it's horrible."

"Is she buried tomorrow?" "Must be buried." "When? Ten o'clock? In this heat we have to eat as late as the Spaniards. But don't worry, it's too late to call people anyway. Would you like me to do this for you All right, Father?" "Thank you, it's very kind of you. I'm only in Gilly to get my vestments. I didn't even think about doing a memorial service until I left. I have to get back to Drogheda as soon as possible. They need me. Tomorrow morning at 9 Mass begins at one o'clock." "Tell Paddy that I will go with her will. That way I can deal with the matter directly after the funeral. Father, you are also a beneficiary, so you stay and read the will, I I will really appreciate."

"Harry, I'm afraid we still have a little problem. You know, Mary made a separate will. After she left the party last night, she gave me a sealed envelope promising to see her dead body before my own eyes. when I opened it. When I did, I found a new will in it." "Mary made a new will? Didn't pass me?" "Obviously. It's something she's thought about for a long time, I suppose. But why she needs to choose to keep it a secret is beyond me. "Have you brought it now, Father?" "Here we are." The priest reached into his skirt and took out several small folded papers.The lawyer read it over immediately and impassively.When he had finished, he looked up; Father Ralph did not expect to see in his eyes a complex of expressions: envy, anger, a certain look of contempt. "Well, Father, congratulations! You've finally got the property." He wasn't a Catholic, so he could say that. "Believe me, Harry, I was more surprised than you when I saw it." "Is this the only one?" "As far as I know, yes." "And she didn't give it to you until last night?" "yes" "Then why don't you destroy it to ensure poor old Paddy gets what he is fully entitled to? The Church has no right to Mary Carson's estate at all." The priest's beautiful eyes were unmoved. "Ah, but it's settled now, Harry, isn't it? It's Mary's property, and she can do with it as she likes." "I'm going to suggest that Paddy sue." "I thought, you'd do that." At this point they broke up.By the time everyone rushed to see Mary Carson's funeral in the morning, all of Killambo and all the surrounding area would know to whom the money belonged.The dead are long gone.Nothing can be undone. It was four o'clock in the morning when Father Ralph entered the enclosure through the last door; for he was in no hurry to drive back.Along the way, he wished his mind would go blank, he didn't want to let himself think.Not Paddy or Fee or Meggie, nor the stinking, bloated thing they'd put in the coffin (he hoped devoutly) already.Instead, he let his eyes and his mind see and think about the night.The dead tree, standing alone in the shimmering grass, shone ghostly and silvery.He wanted to see and think about the black shadows cast by the piles of timber.And that ethereal full moon floating in the sky.At one point, he stopped the car and walked out to a section of wire fence where he leaned against the taut wire and breathed in the intoxicating aroma of eucalyptus and wildflowers.So beautiful is this land, so pure, so indifferent to the fate of those who presumptuously control it.They may have seized it, but it had held them for ages.Unless they can command the wind and the rain, it is the earth that rules them. He parked the car some distance behind the house and walked slowly towards the house.The first windows were all brightly lit, and in the housekeeper's room he heard faintly Mrs. Smith directing the two maids in the rose garden.A figure was walking in the dark shadow of the wisteria trellis; he stopped suddenly, his hair standing on end involuntarily.The old spider stalked him in a different way.However, that was just Meggie, waiting patiently for his return.She looked lively in breeches and boots. "You startled me," he said sharply. "I'm sorry, Father, I didn't mean that. But I don't want to be in there with Daddy and the boys. Mama's home with the baby. I think I should be with Mrs. Smith and Minnie and Kate Pray, but I don't want to pray for her. It's a sin, isn't it?" He had no emotional recall of Mary Carson. "I don't think it's a sin, Meggie, it's hypocrisy, and I don't want to pray for her. She's not... a very nice person." A smile flickered across his face. "So, if you think it's sinful to say that, I'm guilty, too, and worse. I'm supposed to love everyone, and you don't have that burden." "Are you all right, Father?" "Yes, I'm fine." He looked up at the house and sighed. "I don't want to be in here, that's all. I don't want to be in the place where she was until there is no light and the dark demon is driven out. If I get on my horse, will you be with me?" Do I ride till dawn?" Her hand touched his black sleeve and put it down again. "I don't want to go in there either." "Wait, I'll put the vestments in the car." "I'm going to the stables." For the first time she tried to meet him from his standpoint, his grown-up standpoint; he felt this change in her as clearly as he smelled Mary Carson's beautiful garden. Like the scent of roses.Roses.Pale roses.Roses, roses, roses everywhere.Petals on the prairie, summer roses, red, white, and yellow.The fragrance of roses floats sweetly in the night sky.A pink rose, washed pale by the deep moonlight.O pale rose, pale rose.My Meggie, I have abandoned you.But don't you see that you have become a threat?Therefore I have crushed yours under the heels of my ambition, and you are to me but a crushed rose on the prairie.The aroma of roses.Mary.The smell of Carson, roses and pale, pale roses. "Pale rose," he said, rolling off his horse. "Let us be as far away from the scent of roses as the moon. Tomorrow this house will be filled with the scent of roses." He gave the sorrel mare a kick and got ahead of Meggie, trotting down the path to the creek.He wanted to cry, before he smelled the scent of Mary Carson's further decorated coffin, which as an impending fact did not actually hit his bewildered mind.He will be gone soon.Thinking is like a tide, and emotion is as surging and unstoppable as a tide.After learning of the terms of that incredible will, he could not get out of this state in Gilly, and the flood of thoughts made him want to go to Sydney at once.immediately!He wanted to escape this torture, as if he had never known such a thing, but.The pain was in pursuit; there was nothing he could do.It wasn't an event that couldn't be said when it would happen, but it was so imminent that he could almost bring it to Paddy's face: full of disgust, turned away.He would not be welcome on Drogheda after that, and he would never see Meggie again. Then, the punishment began.The sound of hooves makes people feel like flying.This is better, this is better, this is better.Gallop, gallop yes, safe and secure in a small room in the Archbishop's mansion, so the emotional shock must be less and less until the mental pain finally passes.This is better.It was better than staying in Gilly and watching her grow into a big girl and marry some unknown man someday.Out of sight, out of sight, out of mind. What could he and her do there?The boxwood and rubber grove beyond the creek?He couldn't seem to think why; it just hurt.This is not the pain of betrayal, there is no room for it anymore.He was in agony just because he was about to leave her. "Father! Father! I can't keep up with you! Slow down, Father, please!" The cry awakened his sense of responsibility and brought him back to reality.Like a man with a sluggish posture, he reined in the horse's head sharply.The mare spun around in circles, and he didn't let go of the rein until she had done an excited hop.Waiting for Meggie to catch up to him was exactly what was agonizing.Meggie was running after him. not far from them.A drilling machine is rumbling.Here was a large, steaming pond, smelling of sulfur, and from its depths a pipe like a steamship's draft pipe drilled boiling water.The sides of the steaming pool were like the spokes of a wheel.The water sprayed by the drilling machine trickled over the buried, hairy, emerald-like grass.The banks of the pond are almost all gray mud, and in the mud there is a kind of freshwater crayfish called "yabis". Father Ralph laughed. "It smells like hell, Meggie, doesn't it? It's on her property, in her back yard, with brimstone and brimstone. When she adorns roses to go to hell, she should smell the kind of Tasteful, isn't it? Oh, Meggie..." These horses are trained to stand still without pulling the reins.There are no fences nearby, and no trees within half a mile.That is, there is a log not far from the drilling machine by the edge of the pond, where the water is cooler. This is a seat for winter bathers when they wipe their feet. Father Ralph sat down, and Meggie sat a little away from him, turning to look at him. "What's the matter, Father?" It was a question she often asked him, but this time it sounded a little special.He smiled. "I sold you, my Meggie, for thirteen hundred silver pieces." "Sell me?" "That's an exaggeration. Don't be afraid, come and sit near me. Maybe we'll never have a chance to talk together again." "During my aunt's mourning, you mean?" She squirmed on the log and sat down beside him. "Is there any difference in mourning?" "That's not what I meant, Meggie." "You mean. When I grow up, people gossip about us behind our backs?" "Not exactly. I mean, I'm leaving." Meeting will only increase troubles, and another bitter pill will be swallowed.She didn't cry, she didn't sob, and she didn't object violently.It was just a slight twitch of the body, as if being pushed aside by a load, the uneven load prevented her from bearing it properly.She exhaled, but it didn't sound like a sigh. "when are we leaving?" "Just a few days." "Oh, Father! This is more bearable than Frank going!" "For me, it was more unbearable than anything. I have no consolation, and you at least have your family." "You have your God!" "Well said, Meggie! You've grown up!" But, being a stubborn woman, her mind turned again to the question she had buried deep in her heart and had no chance to ask.He was leaving, and it would be hard to live without him, but the question itself was important. "Father, in the stables you spoke of pale roses. Do you mean the color of my dress?" "In a sense, maybe. But I think I actually mean something else." "what?" "You'll never understand, my Meggie. The idea is dead. It has no right to be born, let alone nurtured to grow." "Everything in the world has the right to be born, not even an idea." He turned and looked at her. "You understand what I'm saying, don't you?" "I think so." "Not everything born is good, Meggie." "Yes. However, if it has been born, it actually exists." You argue like a Jesuit.How old are you? " "Seventeen in a month, Father." "You've worked hard for seventeen years. Oh, hard work makes us mature. Meggie, what do you think about when you have time to think?" "Oh, thinking of Jens and Patsy and the other boys and Pa and Ma and Hal and Aunt Mary. Sometimes that pair of babies growing up. I love thinking about that. And riding horses and sheep Groups, all the things the men talk about, the weather, the rain, the vegetable garden, the hens and what I'm going to do the next day. "Have you imagined having a husband?" "No, unless I want to have a baby, I guess I'll have a husband. It's not good to have a baby without a father." He smiled despite the pain in his heart, she was such a strange mixture of ignorance and virtue.Then he turned sideways, resting her chin in one hand, and stared down at her.what should I do?How did you do it before? "Meggie, I realized something a while back that I should have known. You weren't quite telling the truth when you told me what you had been thinking, were you?" "I..." She was about to say, but was speechless again. "You didn't say you mentioned me, did you? If you weren't guilty, you should have mentioned my name when you mentioned your father's name. I think it might be a good thing I'm leaving, you don't think so huh? I'm a little older than those schoolgirl crushes, but you're not as old as an almost 17-year-old, are you? I like that you don't have that worldly wit. But, I know How painful is the love of schoolgirls, you have had enough of their infatuation." She seemed to want to say something, but she finally closed her teary eyes and shook her head vigorously. "Hey, Meggie, it's just a stage, a sign of what you're going to be a woman. When you're a woman, you meet a man who's destined to be your husband, and your life changes. Busy, you won't think of me any more than as an old friend who helped you through the dreaded formative years. You must never think of me in a romantic reverie. I must never think of you Wish I could be your husband. I don't think of you in that light at all, Meggie, do you know what I mean? When I say I love you, I don't mean I love you like a man .I am a priest, not a man. So don't let your mind be filled with dreams about me. I am leaving, and I very much doubt that I will ever have the chance of returning, even for a visit." Her shoulders slumped, as if the burden was too heavy.But her head was raised, looking straight into his eyes. "I'm not going to fill my head with dreams about you, don't worry. I know you're a priest." "I don't think I chose my calling wrongly. It fills me with a need that no human being, not even you, can have." "I know. I felt it when I sent you to Mass. You have a power. I think you must have a feeling like our God." "When I was in church, I could always feel the breath from heaven, Meggie! As each day passed, I died, but every morning when I said Mass, I was resurrected. Is it because I Was it God's chosen priest, or was it because I sensed the reverence of that man, and knew that my power was greater than that of every man present?" "Does it matter? That's the way it should be." "It may not matter to you, but it matters to me." She turned the conversation to something that concerned her. "Father, I don't know how I'm going to live without you. First Frank, and now you. Howl is something else after all. I know, he's dead. Never coming back. But You and Frank are alive! I will always worry about what we are doing, if you are all right, if there is anything I can do to help you. I will even worry about whether you are still alive, right? ?" "I feel the same way, Meggie, and I'm sure Frank will too." "No. Frank has forgotten us...and you will too." "I'll never forget, Meggie. I won't forget as long as I live. If I live long, this will be my punishment." He stood up and pulled her up, gently and affectionately. put his arms around her. "That's the farewell, I think, Meggie. We can't be alone any longer." "Father, if you were not a priest, would you marry me?" "That's an unpleasant title, don't keep calling me that. My name is Ralph," answered the question. Although he put his arms around her, he had no intention of helping her.Her face upturned towards him was barely visible, for the moon had set and it was dark.He could feel her small, protruding breasts against his chest, an inexplicable, disturbing sensation.What was even more disturbing was that her arms were wrapped around his neck, holding him tightly, as if she had been in a man's arms every day in her life. He had never kissed anyone as a lover, and he didn't want to now, not even Meiji.Facing her departing priest, all she wanted was a kiss on the cheek and a hug.She is sensitive and proud.Her feelings must have been deeply hurt when he broke her precious dream and made it cool objectivity.Needless to say, she was as anxious as he was to end it all with a goodbye.Would she be relieved to know that his pain was greater than hers?She stood on tiptoe as he bowed his head to her cheek, and her lips happened to touch his, not so much as a way.As if he had tasted the venom of a spider, he jerked his head back.Then, he bent his head forward again, reluctant to push her away.He tried to say something to that tender, shut mouth while she waited, opening hers.Her body seemed to be crisp, limp and paralyzed, like a mass of warm and soft darkness.One of his arms was wrapped around her waist, and the other arm was around her back, holding the back of her head, inserting his fingers into her hair, and lifting her face to his, as if he was afraid of him Before he had time to hug her tightly, before he had time to take a closer look at the person named Meggie in front of him, she seemed to disappear from his side.She was both Meggie and not Meggie, so incompatible with the one he knew; because his Meggie wasn't a woman, he didn't feel like she was, and to him she would never be, just As if he wasn't a man to her. This thought allowed him to overcome the feeling that was obsessing him.He jerked her arms away from his neck and pushed her away, trying to see her face clearly in the dark.However, her head was lowered, not looking at him. "Time to go, Meggie," he said. Without a word she turned to her horse, mounted it, and waited for him; he usually waited for her. Father Ralph was right.Drogheda is full of roses this time of year, so the house is filled with the scent of flowers.But at eight o'clock that morning, there were hardly any roses in bloom in the garden.Soon after the last rose was plucked from the bush, the first mourners arrived.Breakfast is casual, with coffee and freshly baked brioche in the small dining room.After Mary Carson was laid in the grave, there would be a more lavish banquet in the Great Dining Room to feed the mourners on their long journey home.The news has already spread to the surrounding areas, and there is no need to doubt the efficiency of the gossip in the Kiri area, which is as fast as electricity.While the upper and lower lips touch each other and say something clichéd, those eyes and the mind behind them speculate, judge, and smile slyly. "I hear we're losing you, Father," said Miss Carmichael maliciously. Never had he looked so cold, so impersonal, that morning, when he put on his laceless white gown and somber black cross with the silver cross, as if only his body were here and his soul It's gone.He looked down at Miss Carmichael nonchalantly, and managed to pull himself together into a smile. "Miss Carmichael, the secrets of God are unpredictable," he said, and went to talk to the others again. Something was going on in his head.Maybe anyone can guess.He was thinking of the upcoming confrontation with Paddy because of the will, and he was afraid to see Paddy's anger and needed Paddy's wrath and contempt. He turned to face his parishioners before saying memorial mass.The room was crowded, and the roses exuded a strong fragrance, which could not be dissipated even with all the windows open. "I'm not going to give a long tribute," he said in a clear, slightly Irish, rather Oxford accent. "You all know Mary Carson. She was a pillar of society, a pillar of the Church, and she loved the Church more than anyone else alive." At this point, some would have sworn that there was mockery in his eyes, while others stood motionless, belated by heartfelt and persistent sorrow. "She was a pillar of the Church, and she loved it more than any man alive," he repeated, more clearly, and he was not one to be afraid of a challenge. "In her dying hour, she was alone, but she was not alone. For in our dying hour, our Lord Jesus Christ was with us. He was with us and bore the agony in our place. The death of the greatest and the humblest is not solitary; death is a joy. We gather here to pray for her immortal soul, that she who was loved by us while alive will have a fair and eternal reward. Let's pray." The makeshift coffin was so tightly covered with roses that it could not be seen.It was on a cart on wheels which the boys had put together from some of the farm equipment.Even so, with the windows open, the scent of roses was thick, and they could smell her dead body in their filth; even the doctors said so. "By the time I got to Haida, Germany, she was so rotten that I couldn't help but turn my stomach," he told Martin King over the phone. "Never in my life have I felt more sorry for anyone than I felt for Paddy Cleary. Not only because he was tricked into going to Drogolda, but because he had to get that horrible mess of Stuff was stuffed into the coffin." "Then I don't want to be a pallbearer," said Martin, whose voice was so weak that the doctor had to make him repeat it three times because all the microphones were not sensitive enough. Thanks to the buggy, because no one wanted to carry Mary Carson's body across the lawn to the grave, and when the grave was over her and people could finally breathe I don't feel any regrets. While the mourners clustered in the great dining room to eat, or try to look like they were eating, Harry Goff led Paddy, his family, Father Ralph, Mrs. Smith, and the two maids into the drawing-room.None of the mourners intended to go home, so they all pretended to eat.They all wanted to get a closer look at how Paddy would look when he came out after the reading of the will.To do him and his family justice, no one moved during the funeral as if aware of their extraordinary status.Paddy was as good as ever, and cried for his sister, and Fee looked the same as always, as if she was always indifferent to what happened around her. "Paddy, I want you to prosecute," said Harry Gough, after he had finished reading the astonishing document in a harsh, angry voice. "The wretched old woman!" said Mrs. Smith.As much as she liked the priest, she preferred the Clearys.They brought a pair of babies and other children into her life. Paddy, however, shook his head. "No, Harry! I can't do that. The property is hers, isn't it? She has every right to do what she wants with it. If she wants the church to have it, let the church have it as she wants, I It's kind of disappointing, I don't deny; but, I'm just a little guy, so maybe it's for the best. I don't think I like the responsibility of owning an industry the size of Drogheda." "You don't understand, Paddy!" said the lawyer in a slow, clear voice, as if he were explaining to a child. "我所谈的不仅仅是德罗海达。请相信我，德罗海达不过是令姐遗产中微不足道的一部分。她在上百个第一流的公司中都是主要的股东。她拥有钢铁厂和金矿，拥有米查尔有限公司，在悉尼有一幢十层的办公楼。这些全都是属于她的。她比澳大利亚的任何一个人都有钱！真可笑，不到四个星期之前，她才刚刚让我与米查尔有限公司的经理们联系，查一查她财产的确切的规模。在她死的时候，她拥有的财产大概在一千三百万镑以上。" "一千三百万镑！"帕迪就象在谈论地球到太阳之间的距离似地说道；他感到十分茫然。"事情已经定下来了，哈里。我并不想为这种钱财承担责任。" "这没有什么责任，帕迪！你还不明白吗？钱财是会自己关照自己的！从根本用不着去下种或收割，只不过在上几百个人为你照管它就行了。对这份遗嘱起诉吧，帕迪，求求你！我会为你聘请国内最好的律师，必要的话，我会为你在枢密院奋斗到底的。" 帕迪突然想到，他的家人一定和他一样关心此事，他便转向了迷惑不角地坐在一条佛罗伦萨大理石凳子上的鲍勃和杰克。"孩子们，你们怎么看？你们想要追回玛丽姑妈的一千三百万镑吗？如果你们想的话，我就打官司，没啥可说的。" "可是，不管怎么样，咱们都可以住在德罗海达，遗嘱上不是这么说的吗？"鲍勃问道。 哈里答道："只要你父亲的孙子中有一个人抬着，谁也不能把你们从德罗海达赶走。" "咱们将住在这儿的大宅里，有史密斯太太和姑娘们照顾咱们，还能挣上一笔优厚的工钱，"帕迪说道，好象他宁愿相信坏运气，也很难相信好运气似的。 "哪咱们还求什么呢，杰克？"鲍勃问他的弟弟。"你不中意吗？" "我觉得挺中意。"杰克说道。 拉尔夫神父不停地走动着。他既没有站下来脱掉追思弥撒的法衣，也没有找把椅子坐一坐。他就象一个黑色而又英俊的术士，孤零零地站在屋子后部的阴影中。两手放在黑十字褡下面，脸上十分平静，他那双冷漠的蓝眼睛的深处，有一种恐惧的、令人震惊的怨恨。他所期待的那种暴怒与蔑视的惩罚根本就没发生，帕迪用友善的金盘子把一切都撒手相送了，并已感谢他为克利里家解除了一个负担。 "那菲和梅吉的意见呢？"教士严厉地追问着帕迪。"你还没有想到和你家里的女人们商量一下吧？" "菲？"帕迪焦急地问道。 "随你怎么决定吧，帕迪。我无所谓，"菲答道。 "梅吉呢？" "我才不想要她的一千三百万镑银币呢。"梅吉说道。她的眼睛紧紧地盯着拉尔夫神父。 帕迪向律师转过身去。"那就这样吧，哈里。我们不想对这份遗嘱起诉。让教会把玛丽的钱财拿去吧，欢迎拿去。" 哈里两手一击。"该死的，我讨厌看到我们被欺骗！" "我为我的命运而感谢玛丽，"帕迪漫和地说。"要不是她，我还在新西兰勉强混日子呢。" 当他们走出了会客室时，帕迪在那些群集在会客室门口的、着了迷的送葬者的睽睽众目下，叫住了拉尔夫神父，向他伸出手去。 "神父，别以为我们这方面有任何能以忍受的感情。玛丽一辈子也没让任何人支配过，不管是教士、兄弟、还是丈夫。你把财产从我这里拿走了，她做了她想做的事。你对她太好了，对我们也是，我们永远不会忘记的。" 这是问心有愧的。这是一种负担。拉尔夫神父几乎举不动步去握那只骨节嶙峋、锈色斑斑的手，但是，红衣主教的头脑占了上风：他热烈地抓住了那只手，脸上含笑，心里极为痛苦。 "谢谢你，帕迪。我会照顾你们，决不会让你们短吃缺用，这一点你尽可放心。" 就在那个星期里，他走了，没有再在德罗海达露面。这几天中，他都在收拾他那简单的行李，并且到这个地区每一个有天主教徒家庭的牧场走了一趟，除了德罗海达。 在拉尔夫·德·布里克萨特神父成为克卢尼·达克大主教私人秘书的同时，前任威尔士的教士沫特金·托马斯到任，担任基兰博区的教区教士。但是，拉尔夫神父的工作很轻松，他有两个副秘书。他的大部分时间都用于查看玛丽·卡森拥有些什么，数量有多大，并使之集中于教会利益的支配之下。