“Well; I took them, as agreed; an’ that day we went down’s fur’s Chepstow. But they wor bound for the Severn side a duck shootin’; and next mornin’ we started early, afore daybreak. As we were passin’ the wharf below Chepstow Bridge, where there wor several craft lyin’ in, I noticed one sloop-rigged ridin’ at anchor a bit out from the rest, as if about clearin’ to put to sea. By the light o’ a lamp as hung over the taffrail, I read the name on her starn, showin’ she wor French, an’ belonged to Bolone. I shouldn’t ha’ thought that anythin’ odd, as there be many foreign craft o’ the smaller kind puts in at Chepstow. But what did appear odd, an’ gied me a start too, wor my seein’ a boat by the sloop’s side wi’ a man in it, who I could a’most sweared wor the Rogue’s Ferry priest. There wor others in the boat besides, an’ they appeared to be gettin’ some sort o’ bundle out o’ it, an’ takin’ it up the man-ropes, aboard o’ the sloop. But I didn’t see any more, as we soon passed out o’ sight, goin’ on down. Now, Captain, it’s my firm belief that man must ha’ been the priest, and that thing, I supposed to be a bundle o’ marchandise, neyther more nor less than the body o’ Mary Morgan—not dead, but livin’!”
“You astound me, Wingate! Certainly a most singular circumstance! Coincidence too! Boulogne—Boulogne!”
“Yes, Captain; by the letterin’ on her starn the sloop must ha’ belonged there; an’ I’m goin’ there myself.”
“I too, Jack! We shall go together!”
Volume Three—Chapter Sixteen.
A Strange Father Confessor.
“He’s gone away—given it up! Be glad, madame!”
Father Rogier so speaks on entering the drawing-room of Llangorren Court, where Mrs Murdock is seated.