O Peter! this is a very sad business," continued
O'Brien, passing his hand across his eyes.
"Well, but, O'Brien, what is to become of the poor girl?"
"She is going home to be with my father and mother, hoping one day that
I shall come back and marry her. I have written to Father M'Grath, to
see what he can do."
"Have you then not undeceived her?"
"Father M'Grath must do that, I could not. It would have been the death
of her. It would have stabbed her to the heart, and it's not for me to
give that blow. I'd sooner have died--sooner have married her, than have
done it, Peter. Perhaps when I'm far away she'll bear it better. Father
M'Grath will manage it."
"O'Brien, I don't like that Father M'Grath."
"Well, Peter, you may be right; I don't exactly like all he says myself;
but what is a man to do?--either he is a Catholic, and believes as a
Catholic, or he is not one. Will I abandon my religion, now that it is
persecuted? Never, Peter: I hope not, without I find a much better, at
all events. Still I do not like to feel that this advice of my confessor
is at variance with my own conscience. Father M'Grath is a worldly man;
but that only proves that he is wrong, not that our religion is--and I
don't mind speaking to you on this subject. No one knows that I'm a
Catholic except yourself: and at the Admiralty they never asked me to
take that oath which I never would have taken, although Father M'Grath
says I may take any oath I please with what he calls heretics, and he
will grant me absolution.
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