THE SECRET OF CASTLE KILDARE

     “Why has the treasure never been found? Is it real?”

     “Real missy?” he said in a huffy voice. “This is

Paddy O’Neill who’s talkin’, and Paddy always tells

the truth. Aye, by God’s Legs, it is real.”

     Wisely, I remained silent as Paddy contemplated

awhile and then started talking again,

     “Ye know, there is a small poem that’s a tad

obscure, since few know it; but it is supposed to give

veiled directions to the location of the treasure.”

     “Please tell us,” I begged.

     “Well, let me see if I can recollect it.” He stroked

his chin while he went into deep concentration, as if

conjuring the poem from some unfathomable depth.

We remained silent with great expectation. He visibly

brightened with the remembrance of it.

“Commit this to memory,” he commanded.

When the light of the moon doth fully flow

The eye of the beam will truly show,

When gray to silver hues the rock

The key ye find will strike the lock.

Four eyes are there to light the dark

To point the way, to find the mark,

To reveal the path to the treasure trove

When hand to stone fits like a glove.

Look not to the east, nor to the west

Both north and south, directionless,

When at the place of all alone

Hie thee to the bench of stone.

Know thee this, ye searchers clear

The treasure’s true and very near,

The prize belongs to the pure of heart,

The end is found right at the start.

     “Methinks there is yet another verse but I am

not mindful of it just now. I’ll dwell on it some. If

I remember, I will tell ye. Now, I don’t mind sayin’

that there have been a few that have tried to make

sense o’ that lyric, but none have, leastwise not so far.

Very rich indeed will be the one who does.”

     “How do you know all this, Paddy?” asked Mike.

     “Well now, young gentleman, ye might say that I

have made a study o’ some length on the matter. In

fact, ye might even say that I am the foremost expert

on it.”

     “Why have you never found the treasure?” Matt

asked.

     “Well now, young larrikin, I would have no use

for the treasure, for I have no desire for the riches

of this world. Mayhap it seems strange to you that

someone would not want the treasure, but that is

the way of Paddy. Me riches are in the good folks

who purchase me wares and the friends I meet along

the way, like yerselves. Me horse is me friend and

me wagon is me home and I have the sky during

the day and stars at night and the drum sound that

the rain makes when it beats on me wagon or hisses

in the forest. I have the light of the bright sky and

an endless array of cloud formations that sends the

imagination soaring. What treasure can top that?

     “Now we’ve had a fine time together, but there are

folks who would worry if ye are late. Since we’ve had

such a grand time and I have taken such a fancy to

ye, I have a little gift for ye to remember me by.”

     With that, he disappeared into the wagon,

leaving us wondering what he would have to give

us. We heard him rummaging around again before

he reappeared. To each of us, he presented a small

leather pouch on a long leather thong. The pouches

seemed old, since the leather was soft and a deep nut

brown.

     “These pouches are to go around yer neck, and

hang close to yer heart, where it will be out of sight

to any eyes but yer own. And this is what yer should

place in the pouch, and be most certain not to

lose it.”

     Into each of our hands, he placed a large marblelike

stone, the kind they called boulders. They were

flat on one side and smooth to the touch, but they

were not like any marble I had ever seen. This marble

was opaque, a milky sheen as if to mask hidden

mysteries. A band of light ran through it, and the

band followed the angle of the sun. It was very

strange, but beautiful.

     “Now these are special and Paddy has been

holding them a long time for young ones such as

yerselves. Guard them carefully, almost with your

very lives, as it were. Tell no one that ye have them.

They are much more valuable than they look.”

     “What are they?” I asked.

     “Moonstones, me fancy,” he answered, “As

mysterious and beautiful a gem as you’ll ever find

on the face of this earth. The gift will be our secret.

No one is to know that ye have them, but if they get

accidentally discovered, then tell no one where ye got

them, or who ye got them from.”

     We protested that this was far too great a gift, but

Paddy would hear nothing of it.

     “Be thinkin’ no more about it. Ye be doin’

Paddy a great favor by accepting them. Too many

possessions weigh a body down, as well I know.

Spend yer entire life worryin’ about keeping ‘em safe.

Afraid someone will steal what belongs to you. Now

be off with yer.”

     “Will we see you again Paddy?” I asked.

     “Well now, ye may and ye may not. Life be a

strange thing, and our paths may cross again. But

if they don’t, then we’ll always feel warmed by the

memory of our grand time together. I shall not forget

ye and it is likely that ye will not forget me.”

     With that, Paddy turned his back on us and went

to the wagon to hitch his horse. He climbed onto

the high seat and clucked his tongue. Then he lightly

tapped the reins on the back of the horse, and waved

as he drove off. The wagon twisted and turned as it

rattled down the track until it disappeared; Paddy

was whistling a chanty that ebbed as he disappeared

from sight.

     On a whim, we decided to follow him but

the track soon petered-out to nothing. It just

disappeared. We could find no trace of either Paddy

or his wagon. It seemed as if he had just disappeared

into thin air.