“As a matter of fact, Tom” – Bat flushed and raised his voice – “I’m bringing him one of the litter I promised him. And I may say, I couldn’t think of a better man to bring a dog to.”

“Oh, there’s no better man,” said Father Conroy soothingly, “but all I need now is a rub of embrocation.”

“Then why didn’t you say so before? Sure, I have the very thing out in the car. I use it on the dogs when they’re going to the track. It’s great stuff. You can see it soften up the muscles like melted butter. I’ll try a little on you now, if you like.”

“Ah, no, don’t bother.”

“Tom, I’m going to get it for you right now. What harm can it do you, anyway?”

Before Father Conroy could protest further, the jar of ointment was fetched in from the car. In a few moments his coat was off and his shirt sleeves rolled up. He resigned first his right, then his left arm to be rubbed with the tacky gray stuff. Under the warmth of Bat’s hands it seemed to him that the pain began to fade.

“Now, then, how’s that?”

He bent his arm carefully. “It’s better, I think.”

Bat screwed the lid on the jar and stood up. “Keep that stuff by you, and give yourself a good rub with it, morning and evening.”

“Thanks, Bat. I’ll face anything now.”

Bat shook his head reprovingly as he took up his cup of tea. “Ah, but don’t forget, Tom!”

“What?”

Bat bent nearer to murmur, “The rosary!” and smiled over the steaming cup.

I know Bat, thought Father Conroy, smiling too. And Bat knows me; yes, he does. I’m part of his world, like the seven dogs. I’ll stay part of him, whatever happens.

Surprised, unnerved, he looked across at the chapel woman to see if she had guessed what was in his mind. She looked up at him calmly, only barely aware of him, and slowly turned a page.

I’m part of her too, he thought. Like Alyoshin, or whatever his name was, and all the other characters she reads about. I’ll live on in her.

And as he looked from her back to Bat, still smiling over the cup, yet another phrase flew in from the past: “It seemed that to be known is to have life and continuance in other men’s keeping.”

Now, who the blazes had said that?

Chapter 10

He thought again of Tomás that evening. Even if he never got the address, it would be a relief to know what had happened to the boy. Surely the Canon couldn’t begrudge him that bit of information? Besides, damn it, maybe Tomás would like him to know. If so, what right had the Canon, or Bat, to come between them?