Then for the first time in many hours I remembered that the patroon had spoken of a meeting that night in the neighborhood of Webber’s tavern.
“Your Excellency,” I cried, “it must have been of great importance from his manner. Let me set out at once. It may not be too late. Perchance the patroon was not well enough to go, and has put off the meeting till the morning. The man, whoever he is, may have remained all night at the tavern.”
A party of three horsemen was at once got ready, and Bellamont insisted on going with us himself. It was just daylight when we reached the inn.
“Yes,” answered the host, in reply to our questions. “There was a stranger here last night, and he had a great spell of impatience, but he would not stir from the room, and he stayed all night, and he is up stairs now asleep. Shall I call him, your Excellency?”
“No,” replied Bellamont. “Let us go up to his room.”
When we knocked the stranger refused to open the door. We made short work of that and soon the door was beaten down. We all stood agog at what we saw within. The man had not retired. He was fully dressed and the bed had not been slept in.
“Body of me!” exclaimed the host. “Look at his head. What is that he has in his hands?”
What we saw was a silver crucifix and a close shaven head. The man was a Jesuit priest.
“What are you doing here?” asked the Earl, as soon as his first astonishment had worn off a bit.
“Body of me,” cried the host; “you’ll be hanged. That is our law.”