Perpetua uttered an exclamation of delight, and rushed to the deacon with extended arms.
“I pray, I pray, give me some news of my mother.”
But he drew back likewise surprised, and replied with another question:
“The Lady Perpetua! And how come you to be here?”
“That I will tell later,” answered the girl. “Now inform me as to my mother.”
“Alas!” replied Baudillas, wiping the rain from his face, “the news is sad. She has been taken before Petronius, and has been consigned to prison.”
“My mother is in prison!”
The deacon desired to say no more, but he was awkward at disguising his unwillingness to speak the whole truth. The eager eyes of the girl read the hesitation in his face.
“I beseech you,” she urged, “conceal nothing from me.”
“I have told you, she is in jail.”