"There it hangs," replied father Walter with a smile: "make it all sure. But, remember, that there is another key in the hands of the church, which may lock the door of heaven against you, if you do not repent."
The man Martin, however, tried the door which led out through the walls into the country; and, finding it locked, he took the key from a hook above, and ascertained that it fitted. Then, putting it into his pocket, he turned to the priest, saying, "I am very sorry to do this, father; but it is not with my will, and I must obey my orders. They shall bring you some food and wine; and there is a lamp. At noon to-morrow you shall be free."
Father Walter bent his head gravely; and the three men withdrew, locking the sacristy door after them, and taking the key. The moment they were gone, he rose from the seat in which he had placed himself, and laughed with a bitter mocking tone.
"The fools!" he cried; "do they think I leave myself so unprovided? I must be quick! Can she have discovered Helen?--impossible--impossible!--I heard her lock the door! I must be quick!--Yet, no! he spoke of sending food and wine. I will let them return. They will come, if it be but to see that their prisoner is safe. Perhaps, too, they may linger in the chapel," and he resumed his seat; and, taking up a book of prayer, continued to read for several minutes.
"Would they would come," he murmured at length. "Helen said, Estoc would return for her at three, and it cannot be far short of that hour."
But the tumultuous feelings which had been lately busy in his bosom, had filled the last hour with so many thoughts, that time had lost all power of measuring them; and the clock struck two, as the words were on his lips. The next moment, the door leading to the chapel opened suddenly, and the man Martin entered with a salver, bearing some food and wine. His eye instantly glanced to the priest; but the quiet attitude in which he sat, with the book upon his knee, satisfied the servant that all was secure; and, placing the provisions on a table, he was about to retire, when father Walter stopped him, saying, "Pray, do you know--and, if so, may you tell me--what is the cause of this conduct of Madame de Chazeul? I would be glad to think that, either through some error, or at the instigation of some malevolent person, she has committed this outrage, and not from mere caprice and wanton passion."
"Oh, no, father!" replied the man: "but it seems you sent one of our people to Chazeul for a book, in her name. I know not much about it: but, I believe, Pierre went and told her what he had heard--so one of the girls said."
"A mighty offence!" observed the priest gravely: "and a reasonable cause for an act which she will repent to the last day of life. Heaven grant she may not regret it even longer:" and, thus saying, he commenced reading the book again.
"Why," rejoined the man, willing to justify his mistress, and, through her, himself; "she feared, I fancy, that you were inclined to meddle with some of her plans, and she is not fond of seeing them marred."
"God will mar them, if they be evil," replied the priest; "and no one can mar them, if it be His will they should succeed. But, 'tis well, my son, 'tis well: good night!"