nt of the old Abbey. Paul waited for an answer, and it
came at last.

"I wished to see the home of Martin de Vaux, the Englishman who died
in my arms at the monastery of Cruta. For six nights I have prayed
for his soul in Purgatory, amongst the ruins here. He died in grievous
sin!"

"Have you come to remind me of it?" Paul asked bitterly. "Perhaps
you have repented of your silence, and have come to break the widow's
heart by telling her the story of his last moments. Perhaps--perhaps
in those dark hours he told you his secret--told you why he had come
to Cruta!"

"He did," said the priest gravely.

"My God!"

It was a great shock to Paul. Hitherto he had feared only one thing:
that the story of his father's tragical death might come to light, and
break his mother's heart. Now there was more to fear,--far more. He
looked into Father Adrian's face with a new and keener interest. He
recognised at once that everything dear to him in life might be at
this man's mercy.

"You were intrusted with this secret by a dying man," Paul said, with
a little hoarseness in his tone. "It is to you as the secrets of the
confessional!"

The priest shook his head gently. "He refused to confess. He told me
distinctly that it was as man to man he spoke to me."

Paul looked away into the night with white, stricken face, and cursed
his father's weakness. Supposing that this priest had discovered
that his conscience would not allow him to keep the secret! What
more likely! Why else was he here,--why else did he disclaim the
confessional? There was only one other alternative! Perhaps he desired
to trade upon his secret. Yet how was that possible? Of what use could
money be to him? What could he gain by it? Besides, his was not the
face of an adventurer.

"I do not understand," Paul said at last. "Once more let me ask you,
Father Adrian, why are you here?"

Father Adrian looked thoughtfully away. "You ask more than I can
tell you," he said gravely. "The time has not yet come. We shall meet
again. Farewell!"

The priest turned away, but Paul laid his hand on his shoulder.

"If there is anything which you ought or mean to tell me, tell me
now," he demanded hoarsely. "I can bear everything but suspense. I
know only--that there was a secret. No more. Proceed! Tell me more!"

The priest shook his robe free from Paul's restraining hand, and
turned away.

"Not yet! Not yet! My mind is not yet clear. We shall meet again.
Farewell!"