As the surgeon crossed the patio, it was entered by a priest. In this stout personage, swathed in long black robe with rosary and crucifix dependent; with plump, dark, close-shaven face, and tonsured head from which the huge flapped hat was now removed, Lucius recognized the priest who had touched him on the shoulder on the previous evening.
There was no word spoken between the two men; the family confessor needed no guide to the room of Alcala. But the eyes of the Spaniard and the Englishman met, and each read in the glance of the other, "I shall find an opponent in you."
From motives of delicacy, Lucius did not follow the priest into Alcala's apartment, but remained waiting in the lofty corridor. He would not by his presence disturb the visit of a spiritual director. The door was closed between them; no ordinary conversation could therefore be heard by one standing outside, who had no wish or intention to listen. The priest, however, probably purposely, spoke loudly enough in the chamber of sickness for a word or two occasionally to reach the ear of Lucius.
"Not at confession for the last year,—bad influence—heretic—Protestant," such were the words which the raised tone in which they were spoken rendered audible,—though an indistinct murmur was all that was otherwise heard of the voice of the ecclesiastic through the closed door.
"Would that I had better deserved the priest's suspicions!" thought Lucius, with some self-reproach.
When the priest left Alcala's apartment he was followed by Inez and Teresa, though the former went but a few steps beyond the door. Her hands were clasped; a look of entreaty was on her pale face.
"You will not refuse my brother the last rites of the Church?" she said faintly.
"I will come again to-morrow, and hear his confession, if Don Alcala be then able and willing to confess," was the sternly uttered reply. "I hope that I shall find him a true son of the Church;" the hope was expressed in a tone that was more suggestive of doubt. Inez bowed low with submissive reverence, and returned to her post.
As Father Bonifacio—such was the name of the priest—passed Lucius, again his eyes rested on the young Englishman with an expression of dislike and suspicion. The glance was calmly returned.
Teresa accompanied the priest to the outer arch, while Lucius went back to the room of his friend.