Philip meantime marched up and down outside in much annoyance, until the priest and his brother came out, when the first thing he heard the good Colombeau say was, ‘I would have called upon you before, my son, but that I feared you were a Huguenot.’
‘I am an English Protestant,’ said Berenger; ‘but, ah! sir, I needed comfort too much to stay away from prayer.’
Pere Colombeau looked at him in perplexity, thinking perhaps that here might be a promising convert, if there were only time to work on him; but Berenger quitted the subject at once, asking the distance to Lucon.
‘A full day’s journey,’ answered Pere Colombeau, and added, ‘I am sorry you are indeed a Huguenot. It was what I feared last night, but I feared to add to your grief. The nuns are not permitted to deliver up children to Huguenot relations.’
‘I am her father!’ exclaimed Berenger, indignantly.
‘That goes for nothing, according to the rules of the Church,’ said the priest. ‘The Church cannot yield her children to heresy.’
‘But we in England and not Calvinists,’ cried Berenger. ‘We are not like your Huguenots.’
‘The Church would make no difference,’ said the priest. ‘Stay, sir,’ as Berenger stuck his own forehead, and was about to utter a fierce invective. ‘Remember that if your child lives, it is owing to the pity of the good nuns. You seem not far from the bosom of the Church. Did you but return—-’
‘It is vain to speak of that,’ said Berenger, quickly. ‘Say, sir, would an order from the King avail to open these doors?’
‘Of course it would, if you have the influence to obtain one.’