Lower sank his voice, more solemn, more thrilling grew his tone as he spoke to them of the second coming of that Lord and Master who had risen from his tomb more than fourteen hundred years before, and he seemed so to realize in his own mind the fact that at any moment, even that very day, the angel's trumpet might call priest and people to the judgment, that his eloquence fell with irresistible force on even his most careless or ignorant hearers; and when at last he descended the pulpit-steps, his last words were ringing like a death-knell in many a trembling heart, for they were spoken for the first time in their own tongue:
"Be ye also ready, for in such an hour as ye think not the Son of Man cometh. What I say unto you, I say unto all, Watch!"
Mother Beatrice met her confessor in the convent parlor soon after the sermon. She stood more in awe of him than of any one else with whom she came in contact. Perhaps it was because she could not understand him: we are generally afraid of characters whose depths we cannot fathom, unless we are exceedingly ignorant or conceited--then we despise them. But however this was, she feared and reverenced him, and these feelings were not likely to be lessened by the new expression of his countenance.
"Well, Father, how have you found our prisoners? I have strong hopes for the younger; he is but a child, and not yet hardened in iniquity, perhaps. Think you he is yet convinced of his folly? I heard such tales of Lollard wiles and witchcraft, that it behooved me to put them in safe keeping."
Only yesterday had Father Paul talked with those children. Could it be possible that between one sunset and the succeeding one, so fearful a conflict could have been fought, so glorious a victory won?
"Daughter," he replied, as soon as he could arrange his thoughts, "no bolts or bars can keep that younger child with us. There is a Deliverer approaching before whom we must all bow."
"How, Father?" said the startled lady; "who is it will take them from my guardianship? Has the archbishop sent----"
"Nay, daughter," said the priest solemnly; "the deliverer I spoke of is greater than he, and will pass through yonder dungeon walls without asking our favor. The lad is dying."
"Dying!" Mother Beatrice appeared really shocked. "I meant not that; I may have kept them over strictly; they are but children."
It may have been the kindly influences of Eastertide, it may have been the result of thoughts stirred up by the sermon she had just heard--whatever it was, the abbess was strangely softened. Father Paul saw this, and took advantage of it.