Anne did not deny it. She sunk her head still lower, but said not a word.
"You have, then, done the mischief already," said Jack. "When did you see the priest?"
"It does not become you to question me or to speak to me thus," said Anne, striving to assume her usual tone. "I have but done that which was right, and my duty. No man is bound to keep faith with heretics. You speak of acting according to your conscience. Why should I not act according to mine?"
"You know that you have not done so," said Jack, fixing a penetrating look on his sister's face. "You have belied your own conscience, and betrayed me to death, for the sake of what, in your heart, you know to be a lie. Yes, Anne, in your heart, you believe that what I have told you, and what you heard from Agnes, is true—God's own truth. If this may be heresy, you are at heart as much a heretic as I am."
"I will not hear this!" said Anne hastily. "No one shall call me a heretic. You have no right to complain. I gave you fair warning. I come to you, to-night, not because I repent of what I have done, but to warn you—to give you a last chance."
"Many thanks to you!" said Jack, with a bitterness he could not altogether restrain. "Pray, what is to be the price of this piece of villainy? Are you to be made a prioress, or are you to found a new order? But I not speak so," he added hastily. "God give me grace to forgive you."
He walked up and down the room two or three, times, and then threw himself on his knees, by the bedside.
Anne stood, stiff and silent.
At last, Jack rose and turned to her.
"Anne," said he, "you have done a base and cowardly deed, and you will one day see it so, however you may regard it at present. I know not what has prompted you, and I desire not to judge you. Only remember this, when your day of remorse and repentance comes—as come it will—remember, there was forgiveness even for them who crucified our dear Lord, and the same forgiveness will be granted to you if you truly repent, and accept the offer of mercy. For my own part, I freely pardon you, and if I do not do so wholly, now, I believe the grace will be given me. But I warn you, that you are placing yourself in imminent danger of eternal perdition, by your present resisting of the Spirit and of your own conscience. 'He who denieth me before men, him will I deny before the angels of God,' says our Lord Himself. He now holds out His pitiful arms even to you, but there may come a day when He will hold them out no more—when you may long to confess what you now deny, and it may be forever too late."