"
"How could he have thought he was married unless he was drunk, and
that cannot be put forward as an excuse. No, my dear uncle, you
are inclined for subtleties this morning."
"He may have thought he was married. Moreover, he intended to be
married, and if through forgetfulness--"
"Forgetfulness!" cried Father Maguire. "A pretty large measure of
forgetfulness!"
"I shouldn't say that a mortal sin has been committed; a venial
one .... If he intended to be married--"
"Oh, my dear uncle, we shall be late, we shall be late!"
Father Stafford repressed the smile that gathered in the corner of
his lips, and he remembered how Father Tom had kept him out of bed
till two o'clock in the morning, talking to him about St. Thomas
Aquinas.
"If they're to be married to-day we must be getting on." And
Father Maguire's stride grew more impatient. "I'll walk on in
front."
At last he spied a woman in a field, and she told him that the
married couple had gone towards the Peak. Most of them had gone
for a walk, but Pat Connex was in bed, and the doctor had to be
sent for.
"I've heard," said Father Tom, "of last night's drunkenness. Half
a barrel of porter; there's what remains," he said, pointing to
some stains on the roadway. "They were too drunk to turn off the
tap."
"I heard your reverence wouldn't marry them," the woman said.
"I am going to bring them down to the church at once."
"Well, if you do," said the woman, "you won't be a penny the
poorer; you will have your money at the end of the week.
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