I heard a low murmuring, then the voice replied: "Trouble not yourself, Roger Trevanion, there shall be light," and in a few seconds, as if by magic, a small lamp shone out in the darkness, revealing several objects, which at first I could not understand. As my eyes became accustomed to the darkness, I discovered a rude table on which stood a crucifix; on the walls too, rough and unplastered as they were, I saw pictures of a religious order. But my attention was drawn from other objects by a pallet bed which lay in the corner of the room, on which a human body lay.
"Uncle Anthony," I cried, not that I recognized him, but the name came involuntarily to my lips.
"Why are you here, Roger Trevanion?" asked a voice which I detected as Uncle Anthony's.
"Nay, rather, why are you here?" I cried; "and where is Mistress Nancy Molesworth?"
"She is where you will never reach her," he replied, bitterly I thought, and yet in a feeble tone of voice.
"What mean you?" I cried, and then I saw that his head was bandaged.
"I mean that through your faithlessness"—he hesitated as though he knew not how to proceed.
"The Killigrews!" I cried.
"Ay."