"But who tells thee thou shalt find it?" asked Dighton.
"God's word," replied Kate, "and a good priest of the holy church, both tell me that, if, sincerely repenting, I do my best to make up for all that I have done amiss--if, without fear and favour, I labour to defend the innocent even at the expense of the guilty, I shall surely obtain mercy myself in another world, though I wring my own heart in this."
"Did a priest say so?" demanded Dighton, looking up, with a ray of hope breaking across his face--"send for that priest, good girl!--send for that priest!--quick! He may give me comfort!"
Kate paused for a moment, without reply, gazing down upon the ground, and then said, "'Twould be hard to keep thee from the only hope of forgiveness, yet----"
"Yet what?" exclaimed he, impatiently. "In God's name, woman, I adjure thee----"
"Wilt thou do what the priest bids thee do?" demanded Kate.
"Yes--yes!" cried he--"I will do all sorts of penance!"
"Even if he tells thee," continued Kate, "to make such a confession----"
"Ay, ay," said the man, "that's what I want--I want to confess."
"Nay, but," replied Kate Greenly, "not a mere confession to the ear of the priest, buried for ever under his vow, but such a confession as may save the innocent--as may bring the guilty to justice--as may declare who was the murderer, and who instigated the murder?"