'What this house has been to me, and what I owe to you who have given me so much more than shelter, is known only to God and to myself. Don't let us part in anger, or my last state will be worse than my first; but, father, I must go.'
'Must?'
'Yes, my father, must. Speed me on my way with some of those words of help and comfort which you can speak so well; give me your blessing before I go.'
The Prior put up his hand as if to screen his face from the other's too keen observation.
'What is the meaning of this--I will not say unruly spirit--but sudden, strange necessity?'
'That piece of paper.'
'But I have already told you that that may mean nothing; that I will have inquiries made, with the result of which you shall be acquainted.'
The Englishman continued silent for some moments, clasping and unclasping his hands in front of him; plainly torn by a conflict of emotions, to which he was struggling to give articulate utterance.
'My father, I believe that I see in that piece of paper the finger of Heaven.'
'Men have supposed themselves to see the finger of Heaven in some strange places; your obliquity of vision is not original, my son.'