"Have you not heard, my good father?" asked the baronet. "I had understood that the rumour had reached Brandon."
"I have heard much," replied the priest; "but what I wish to hear is, what it is that has so much affected you. My son," he continued, rising, and gazing gravely upon Sir Arthur's face, "if you would have comfort, consolation, and advice from one who is your old and long-tried friend, as well as your spiritual guide, you must have confidence in him. Now, in that confidence you have been wanting lately. You have told me half, and I have known the whole. You have avoided rather sought my counsel; and I have not forced it upon you, although I knew you to be engaged in enterprises dangerous to yourself and others, and knew also the inducements which forced you forwards, and from which I could have relieved you, if you would but have been guided by me. The only thing of which I was unaware, was that the rash attempt was to be made to-night. I see by your face, by your dress, by your manner, that it has been so; and I now ask you the result, not from any idle curiosity, but for the purpose of delivering you from the difficulties which your own want of confidence has brought upon you. Speak; and every word that you say shall be held as sacred as if uttered under the seal of confession."
"The result, my best friend," replied Sir Arthur, "is more disastrous than can be conceived." And he went on to give his own version of all that had occurred, dwelling particularly upon Dudley's appearance amongst the rioters, and the words which he had used. Filmer suffered him to proceed to an end without a single question. He did not even embarrass him by a look, but having resumed his seat, kept his eyes fixed thoughtfully upon the table, and his head slightly bent, in listening attention.
"And now what am I to do?" asked Sir Arthur. "I will be guided entirely by your advice. There is the French brig which has been hired by some of these men, through the Société Democratique, now lying off the coast. A boat will carry me on board in half an hour, and I shall be safe in France, as fugitives accused of mere political offences cannot be claimed."
"Would you ruin yourself for ever?" asked Father Filmer; "would you put a brand upon your name which can never be effaced? Think not of it; merely answer me one or two questions. Are you sure that Norries is dead?"
"I saw him fall with my own eyes," answered the baronet; "and I think that one of the cannon passed over him, for the horses took fright at the firing."
"Norries would not betray you, I think," said Mr. Filmer, thoughtfully; and then repeated, "he would not betray you, even if he were living, I do believe."
"But he has betrayed me to this young Dudley already," answered Sir Arthur Adelon, sharply. "His words clearly showed that he is informed of all that passed six years ago. He, the son of my greatest enemy, has me now entirely in his power: it is that which makes it so necessary to fly; he saw me, spoke to me, can swear to my presence there."
"But he, you think, is the only one?" said the priest, in a tone of inquiry.
"Assuredly," replied Sir Arthur. "I have been at only two of their meetings; and at the last I strongly dissuaded them from the attempt, and said that I would take no part in it, which was the cause of Norries' threatening visit here. All my other communications have been carried on with him."