The lady lifted her eyes to the face of the inquirer, and slowly replied:
"My daughter, how should I know? Have I not said that, until this day, when I have seen him in the flesh standing in this room, I had believed him to have been in purgatory for twenty-five years or more?"
"True! true!" sighed Salome.
The abbess folded her hands, cast down her eyes, and resumed her meditations or prayers.
"You heard that he was killed in a duel, you say?" persevered Salome.
"Yes; the news of his treachery, and the news of his death at the hands of the Duke of Hereward reached me at the same moment in this convent, where I was then passing the first year of mourning for my parents. It was that news which decided me to take the vail and devote my life and fortune to the service of the Lord," said the lady, reverently bending her head.
Salome sat staring stonily as one petrified. She was absolutely speechless and motionless from amazement for the space of a minute or more. Then suddenly recovering her powers, she exclaimed:
"Mother! Mother Genevieve! For Heaven's sake! Did I understand you? From whose hand did you hear Count Waldemar received his death in a duel?"
"From the hand of the deeply injured husband, of course."
"But—who was he? Who? You mentioned a name!" wildly exclaimed Salome.