"Sed libera nos a malo," sounded the response.
And further, "Domine, exaudi orationem meam!"
"Et clamor meus ad te veniat!" and Beatrice fainted with these words upon her lips.
"Son, leave her to us," urged the priest, but he would not go till she opened her sweet eyes.
"Daughter!"—and she caught the hand of Father Paolo, as in the desperation of agonized despair. A shadow darkened Philip Stratherne's brow.
"The cursed priest again!" he muttered between his closed teeth. "Tell me when I may see you again, Beatrice, free from these fearful surroundings."
"The Monday of Easter-week," was all she replied, and he left her.
And when the Monday dawned, bright with the carol of birds, he sought her; but the old chateau by the valley was silent, the shutters barred, and the flowers drooping and dead. An aged woman came hobbling to him, who said, with the tears dimming her old eyes, "Ah! the sweet bird has flown, master, and St. Ursula guards her from behind the bars."
"God of heaven, save me! Here is gold if you will prove this false."
"Keep your gold for charity, master; for the truth is strong; and our holy Mother keeps her safe from all evil."