The youngster was right: that evening, a little before dark, he attended his commander on shore, the Enterprise lying to with a lantern at her peak.
“Once more, dearest Clara!” said Edward, as he threw off her long veil and pressed her in his arms.
“Yes, Edward, once more—but I am afraid only once more; for my maid, Inez, has been dangerously ill, and has confessed to Friar Ricardo. I fear much that, in her fright (for she thought that she was dying), she has told all. She is better now.”
“Why should you imagine so, Clara?”
“Oh, you know not what a frightened fool that Inez is when she is ill! Our religion is not like yours.”
“No, dear, it is not; but I will teach you a better.”
“Hush, Edward, you must not say that. Holy Virgin! if Friar Ricardo should hear you! I think that Inez must have told him, for he fixes his dark eyes upon me so earnestly. Yesterday he observed to me that I had not confessed.”
“Tell him to mind his own business.”
“That is his business, and I was obliged to confess to him last night. I told him a great many things, and then he asked if that was all. His eyes went through me. I trembled as I uttered an untruth, for I said it was.”
“I confess my sins but to my Maker, Clara! and I confess my love but to you. Follow my plan, dearest!”