Dubliners - James Joyce [49]
There was a knock at the door.
`Come in!' said Mr Henchy.
A person resembling a poor clergyman or a poor actor appeared in the doorway. His black clothes were tightly buttoned on his short body and it was impossible to say whether he wore a clergyman's collar or a layman's, because the collar of his shabby frock-coat, the uncovered buttons of which reflected the candle-light, was turned up about his neck. He wore a round hat of hard black felt. His face, shining with raindrops, had the appearance of damp yellow cheese save where two rosy spots indicated the cheek-bones. He opened his very long mouth suddenly to express disappointment and at the same time opened wide his very bright blue eyes to express pleasure and surprise.
`O, Father Keon!' said Mr Henchy, jumping up from his chair. `Is that you? Come in!'
`O, no, no, no,' said Father Keon quickly, pursing his lips as if he were addressing a child.
`Won't you come in and sit down?'
`No, no, no!' said Father Keon, speaking in a discreet, indulgent, velvety voice. `Don't let me disturb you now! I'm just looking for Mr Fanning... '
`He's round at the Black Eagle,' said Mr Henchy. `But won't you come in and sit down a minute?'
`No, no, thank you. It was just a little business matter, said Father Keon. `Thank you, indeed.'
He retreated from the doorway and Mr Henchy, seizing one of the candlesticks, went to the door to light him downstairs.
`O, don't trouble, I beg!'
`No, but the stairs is so dark.'
`No, no, I can see... Thank you, indeed.'
`Are you right now?'
`All right, thanks... Thanks.'
Mr Henchy returned with the candlestick and put it on the table. He sat down again at the fire. There was silence for a few moments.
`Tell me, John,'said Mr O'Connor, lighting his cigarette with another pasteboard card.
`Hm?'
`What is he exactly?'
`Ask me an easier one,' said Mr Henchy.
`Fanning and himself seem to me very thick. They're often in Kavanagh's together. Is he a priest at all?'
`Mmmyes, I believe so... I think he's what you call a black sheep. We haven't many of them, thank God! but we have a few... He's an unfortunate man of some kind... '
`And how does he knock it out?' asked Mr O'Connor.
`That's another mystery.'
`Is he attached to any chapel or church or institution or--'
`No,' said Mr Henchy, `I think he's travelling on his own account... God forgive me,' he added, `I thought he was the dozen of stout.'
`Is there any chance of a drink itself?' asked Mr O'Connor.
`I'm dry too,' said the old man.
`I asked that little shoeboy three times,' said Mr Henchy, would he send up a dozen of stout. I asked him again now, but he was leaning on the counter in his shirt-sleeves having a deep goster with Alderman Cowley.
`Why didn't you remind him?' said Mr O'Connor.
`Well, I wouldn't go over while he was talking to Alderman Cowley. I just waited till I caught his eye, and said: "About that little matter I was speaking to you about... " "That'll be all right, Mr H.," he said. Yerra, sure the little hop-o'-my-thumb has forgotten all about it.'
`There's some deal on in that quarter,' said Mr O'Connor thoughtfully. `I saw the three of them hard at it yesterday at Suffolk Street corner.'
`I think I know the little game they're at,' said Mr Henchy. `You must owe the City Fathers money nowadays if you want to be made Lord Mayor. Then they'll make you Lord Mayor. By God! I'm thinking seriously of becoming a City Father myself. What do you think? Would I do for the job?'
Mr O'Connor laughed.
`So far as owing money goes... '
`Driving out of the Mansion House,' said Mr Henchy, `in all my vermin, with Jack here standing up behind me in a powdered wig - eh?'
`And make me your private secretary, John.'
`Yes. And I `ll make Father Keon my private chaplain. We'll have a family party.'
`Faith, Mr Henchy,' said the old man, `you'd keep up better style than some of them. I was talking one day to old Keegan, the porter. "And how do you like your new master,