"I confess that it was."
"Why then, Master, I too will confess—I that came to you to denounce the practice. Of what this letter hints Bonaday is innocent as—as you are. He approved of the Petition and was on the point of signing it; but he desired your good leave to make a home for his child. Between parent and Protestant my friend was torn, and moreover between conscience and loyalty. He could not sue for this favour from you, his soul weighted with an intention to go straightway and do what must offend you."
Master Blanchminster faced Brother Copas squarely, standing of a sudden erect. It seemed to add inches to his stature.
"Had he so poor a trust in me, after these years?"
"No, Master." Brother Copas bent his head. "That is where I come in. All this is but preparatory.… I am a fraud—as little Protestant as Catholic. I found my friend in straits, and made a bargain with those who were pressing him—"
"Do I understand, Brother Copas, that this Petition—of which all the strength lies in its scholarship and wording—is yours, and that on these terms only you have given me so much pain?"
"You may put it so, Master, and I can say no more than 'yes'—though I might yet plead that something is wrong with St. Hospital, and—"
"Something is very wrong with St. Hospital," interrupted the Master gravely. "This letter—if it come from within our walls—But I after all, as its Master, am ultimately to blame." He paused for a moment and looked up with a sudden winning smile. "We have both confessed some sins. Shall we say a prayer together, Brother?"
The two old men knelt by the hearth there. Together in silence they bowed their heads.