"We are not alone, my daughter," said the priest, with a glance towards Phœbe, who stood scowling her darkest upon him.
"It matters not. I confess what all the world may hear: A deadly, soul-destroying crime,—a sin that has blasted my happiness, and will eat as a canker in my heart so long as I exist on earth. I have yet to learn whether it can be forgiven in heaven."
"Doubt it not, daughter. All power is committed to us, the ministers of pardon and condemnation, and when convinced of your penitence, it will be my pleasure and duty to absolve you from this sin, be it what it may."
"It is this," she replied, solemnly, her eyes gazing into vacancy, and her hands clasped convulsively: "I turned from a religion of purity and truth, and peace and freedom, to a system of lies and treachery, of slavish degradation and spiritual thraldom. I did it as if there were no difference; I did it for the love of a fellow sinner. I cared nothing for God and His word; and now I am reaping as I sowed. Nay, patience, sir, you must hear how penitent I am. From this hour I renounce the Church of Rome, and abhor and defy her as the foul enemy of God's truth, and the hinderer of human peace and salvation; and her ministers as the serpents who creep into their victims' confidence, under plea of divine authority, to sting and destroy. Oh, what penance is too heavy for the soul that has yielded to her blasphemy?"
"Silence, Madam!" exclaimed the astonished priest, for the moment off his guard. But quickly resuming his official bearing, he added calmly,—
"There are holy refuges within the Church for raving ones like thee, and there thou shalt learn submission and humility."
But the effort had been too great for the failing strength of his victim, and as he quitted the room with angry step, she lay again unconscious on her couch, tended by the faithful nurse, and ignorant of the threat his ominous words implied.
Certain decided proclamations and measures on the part of the Government at last satisfied Guy Falconer of the propriety of leaving Rome, and having, with Pierre's faithful help, made all the needful arrangements, he sought a farewell interview with the Countess.
"Poor missy, she fail bery fast," said Phœbe, sorrowfully, in answer to his inquiries. "She done eberyting, but all no use. Dey got fast hold, and dey keep it. De priest him come to see her, but she faint away dead, and know noting. Him try ole Phœbe, and she 'bliged hold her tongue, fear him drive her away. Him tink to convert heathen! Sooner Phœbe lay her ole bones under car ob Juggernaut dan take up with his 'refuge ob lies.'"
"Right, Phœbe," said Guy. "But you must carry that resolve out of hearing of Rome, it seems."