“Nay, there is no such haste,” rejoined Osbert. “By flying without due preparation, you would incur yet greater risk. Two days hence you shall be in perfect safety.”
“Alas!” exclaimed Constance, “my mind misgives me, and I fear some dire calamity is in store for me.”
“If it be so, you must bear it with fortitude,” said Derrick Carver. “It has been my earnest endeavour to strengthen you for such an hour, and I trust my efforts have not been in vain, but that you may be equal to whatever trial you are subjected. Nay, even should you be called upon to attest your devotion to the Gospel by enduring fiery torments, I am assured your courage will not forsake you, but that you will earn a crown of martyrdom.”
“Heaven, in its mercy, grant she may be spared any such terrible trial!” exclaimed Osbert, shuddering.
“Rather than deny my faith, and return to that which I have abjured, I will suffer death in any shape,” said Constance, “even accompanied by the most cruel torments.”
“Your words fill me with joy, daughter,” rejoined Carver, “and prove that my teaching has not been thrown away. Thus prepared, you need have no fear.”
“I am resigned to whatever may happen,” said Constance.
“Self-preservation is as much a duty as any other,” said Osbert, “and ought not to be neglected. Though prepared for the worst, you must not expose yourself to needless risk.”
“I have said I am ready to depart whenever you may enjoin me to do so,” replied Constance, “and will go wheresoever you may direct.”
“I neither oppose her going, nor counsel her tarrying here,” said Derrick Carver. “Act as we may, Heaven’s designs will be fulfilled.”