“It shall be done,” replied Rodomont. “As to this Derrick Carver, he shall be clapped in the dungeon below the Bar-gate, the strongest prison in Southampton, and if we have to put him to the question, ordinary and extraordinary, we will have the truth from him. But your Highness may take my word for it, ’tis a French design.”
“I thank you for your zeal, good Master Bittern,” said Philip, “and in consideration of the services you have rendered me, I am content to overlook the freedom of speech in which you indulged a little while since. But I must enjoin you to be more careful in future.”
“I shall not fail,” replied Rodomont, bowing respectfully. “My excuse is, that I knew not whom I was addressing. Your Highness may ever count on my loyalty and devotion,” he added, placing his hand upon his heart.
At this juncture the priest, who had officiated in the little chapel of the Domus Dei during Philip’s visit to it, entered the court with his assistants, and after inclining himself reverently before the Prince, proceeded to congratulate him on his miraculous preservation.
Replying in suitable terms, Philip declared he was so fully convinced of Heaven’s interposition in his behalf, that he desired at once to offer up thanks for his providential deliverance, and prayed the holy father to accompany him to the chapel for that purpose.
The priest readily assented, and led the way to the sacred edifice, into which, after a brief delay, Philip, with Osbert and the rest of the assemblage, including even Derrick Carver, were admitted.
Again the tapers were lighted at the altar, and again the Prince knelt down before it; but this time there was no fair devotee beside him to distract his thoughts, and his prayers were full of fervour and gratitude.
It was a strange and solemn scene, and impressed even Rodomont and his companions, whom recent events had served to sober.
The demeanour of Derrick Carver was stern and unmoved; but when the priest uttered a heartfelt prayer for the Prince’s deliverance, he could not repress a groan. As Osbert looked round at this moment, he fancied he could discern, within the deep recess of the doorway, the figure of Constance Tyrrell. If it were so, however, she had vanished before the others quitted the chapel.
His devotions over, Philip arose, and in taking leave of the priest, promised the holy man an offering to Saint Julian, the patron saint of the chapel. He then bowed to the others, and declining further attendance, passed forth with Osbert, and proceeding to the quay, entered the boat which was waiting for him, and returned to the “Santissima Trinidada.”