"But they had reckoned without their host, for the next moment the dead man strode through the arched door, and deliberately glided towards his accustomed seat. In speechless horror the people, with one accord, arose and rushed to the altar for protection, while many rushed out through the rear entrances, to carry the terrible news far and wide.
"Pale, but resolute, attended by two trembling altar boys with bell and censer, Father Mulcahy advanced in front of the astonished cause of this unwonted disturbance.
"'In the name of the Blessed Thrinity, I command you to retire from this blissid an' sacred church to the place from whence you came.'
"'An' why wud I go back, your riverince? Shure, the body's buried, an' I've no call there now.'
"'Why, then, can you find no rest in the grave?'
"This last question 'broke the camel's back.'
"'H---- to my--There, the Lord forgive me for cursin', and in this blessed an' howly place. But are all the people mad--prastes and clarks, payrents and childher? Or am I losin' my sinses, or enchanted by the fairies?'
"'Matthew,' said the priest, solemnly, 'are you alive an' well?'
"'Yis, your riverence, if I know meself I am.'
"'Will you go to the font an' thrink a taste of the holy wather?'
"'Yes, your riverince, an it's plasin' to ye.'
"It was with much doubt that Father Mulcahy awaited the result of his test; but Matthew drank about a pint of the consecrated water, and a short conversation made all plain to the priest, and to poor Matthew, to whom the various events were far from being a matter of mirth.
"Accompanied by the priest, he went home, to the unutterable horror of the newly-married pair, which was little lessened when they found that their unwelcome visitor was not from another world.
"'I am dead to you, Katty,' said he, with a gentle sadness, so different from the burst of passion which the priest had feared, that he knew that his heart was broken. 'All the happiness I had was in your love, and that was false. Go with your new love where I may see you no more.'
"Matthew died years after, a soured and misanthropic man; but few legends are better known in his native district than the story of Matthew Collins's ghost."
As the story ended, Risk thanked the narrator in behalf of the auditory, adding, "The storm will probably change to a thaw before morning, and if it does we must be on hand bright and early, for it will bring the main body of 'the first flight.'"