The priests turned back, walking very slowly.

’I feel no more wish to drink whisky than I do to drink bog-water.  But I’m a bit hot, and I think I’d like a drink, and a drink of water will do me first-rate.  Now look here, Gogarty:  a miracle has happened, and we should thank God for it.  Shall we kneel down?’

The road was very wet, and they thought it would do as well if they leant over the little wall and said some prayers together.

’I’ve conquered the devil; I know it.  But I’ve been through a terrible time, Gogarty.  It’s all lifted from me now.  I’m sorry I’ve brought you out for such a walk as this.’

’Never mind the walk, Moran, so long as the temptation has passed from you—­that’s the principal thing.’

To speak of ordinary things was impossible, for they believed in the miracle, and, thanking God for this act of grace, they walked on until they reached Father Oliver’s gate.

’I believe you’re right, Moran; I believe that a miracle has happened.  You’ll go home straight, won’t you?’

Father Moran grasped Father Oliver’s hand.

‘Indeed I will.’

And Father Oliver stood by his gate looking down the road, and he didn’t open it and go through until Father Moran had passed out of sight.  Pushing it open, he walked up the gravel path, saying to himself, ’A miracle, without doubt.  Moran called it a miracle and it seems like one, but will it last?  Moran believes himself cured, that is certain;’ and Father Oliver thought how his curate had gripped his hand, and felt sure that the grip meant, ’You’ve done me a great service, one I can never repay.’

It was a pleasure to think that Moran would always think well of him.  ‘Yes, Moran will always think well of me,’ he repeated as he groped his way into the dark and lonely house in search of a box of matches.  When his lamp was lighted he threw himself into his armchair so that he might ponder better on what had happened.  ’I’ve been a good friend to him, and it’s a great support to a man to think that he’s been a good friend to another, that he kept him in the straight path, saved him from himself.  Saved himself from himself,’ he repeated;’ can anybody be saved from himself?’ and he began to wonder if Moran would conquer in the end and take pride in his conquest over himself.

There was no sound, only an occasional spit of the lamp, and in the silence Father Oliver asked if it were the end of man’s life to trample upon self or to encourage self.  ‘Nora,’ he said, ’would answer that self is all we have, and to destroy it and put in its place conventions and prejudices is to put man’s work above God’s.  But Nora would not answer in these words till she had spoken with Mr. Walter Poole.’  The name brought a tightening about his heart, and when Father Oliver stumbled to his feet—­he had walked many miles, and was tired—­he began to think he must tell Nora of the miracle that had happened