The confessor permitted more time for preparation than Phœbe expected, and of which she made diligent use, receiving in silence all his commands, and satisfying all his inquiries concerning his "dear daughter's" health with the information that she "wander a little in her mind, tinking she see de Count in him prison, and dat he got de Lord Jesus to take care of his soul," then that "she want sleep very much," and then that "she sleep," but he did not hear her add "in Jesus."
When next the reverend "Father," visited the object of his paternal solicitude, the weeping attendants silently marshalled him to the room where she lay on her couch, robed in white, a lily on her breast, and perfect peace written on her fair young face. But that was all: the spirit he had tortured "for the Church's interest" was not there, the victim of the confessional had escaped; and the Ayah and infant had disappeared, none there knew when, nor whither.
The Roman relatives of the Count were in time informed that he had died in prison, his crimes multiplied in the hands of his enemies, until confiscation of his property was all too light a punishment, and as for his anathematised soul, if his scandalised Church could give no verdict but "heresy," there might be hope that "through much tribulation, he had entered the kingdom of heaven."
[CHAPTER XIII.]
A MISSING LINK.
AS letters were few and far between in those days, when they did come, they were very warmly appreciated. Therefore the arrival of a letter from Master Guy was an event in which the whole population of the Falcon Range felt impelled to manifest singular personal interest. But not being favoured as a body with a survey of such letter, and its contents being issued in small details from divers independent authorities, it was not surprising that, by the time the news it conveyed had circulated from the drawing room to servants' hall, through stables and gardens, round the villages of Falcon Range and Pine-wood End, large farms and small cottages, the original statements were somewhat altered, and scarcely so recognisable as even the grey-bearded man who left the place of his birth a simple stripling.
It must have been with infinite amazement that the recipient of one particular letter heard some days afterwards that the Pope had laid violent hands upon her son, that he had narrowly escaped an auto-da-fé, was rescued by a regiment of black savages, and safely lodged in the land of Luther. The tale might be a predecessor of "The Three Black Crows," but certainly belonged to that family, and the crows had no reason to be ashamed of the relationship. It was an important letter, for after careful perusal thereof, the heads of the mansion solemnly started on an exploring expedition through the whole immediate premises, without communicating its special object to anyone.
From garret to cellar, through galleries and chambers, servants' offices and out-buildings, went the Squire and Mistress Hazelwood, followed by Mrs. Falconer, who seemed even less eager in the search than they.