their passage in the next ship for
England, and Clement be allowed time to make his well-meant but idle
experiment.

About ten o'clock that day, a figure in a horseman's cloak, and great
boots to match, and a large flapping felt hat, stood like a statue near
the auberge, where was the apostate nun, Mary. The friar thus disguised
was at that moment truly wretched. These ardent natures undertake
wonders; but are dashed when they come hand to hand with the sickening
difficulties. But then, as their hearts are steel, though their nerves
are anything but iron, they turn not back, but panting and dispirited,
struggle on to the last.

Clement hesitated long at the door, prayed for help and wisdom, and at
last entered the inn and sat down faint at heart, and with his body in a
cold perspiration, But inside he was another man. He called lustily for
a cup of wine: it was brought him by the landlord, He paid for it with
money the convent had supplied him; and made a show of drinking it.

"Landlord," said he, "I hear there is a fair chambermaid in thine
house."

"Ay, stranger, the buxomest in Holland. But she gives not her company to
all comers only to good customers."

Friar Clement dangled a massive gold chain in the landlord's sight. He
laughed, and shouted, "Here, Janet, here is a lover for thee would
bind thee in chains of gold; and a tall lad into the bargain, I promise
thee."

"Then I am in double luck," said a female voice; "send him hither."

Clement rose, shuddered, and passed into the room, where Janet was
seated playing with a piece of work, and laying it down every minute, to
sing a mutilated fragment of a song. For, in her mode of life, she had
not the patience to carry anything out.

After a few words of greeting, the disguised visitor asked her if they
could not be more private somewhere.

"Why not?" said she. And she rose and smiled, and went tripping before
him, He followed, groaning inwardly, and sore perplexed.

"There," said she. "Have no fear! Nobody ever comes here, but such as
pay for the privilege."

Clement looked round the room, and prayed silently for wisdom. Then he
went softly, and closed the window-shutters carefully.

"What on earth is that for?" said Janet, in some uneasiness.

"Sweetheart," whispered the visitor, with a mysterious air, "it is that
God may not see us.

"Madman," said Janet; "think you a wooden shutter can keep out His eye?"

"Nay, I know not. Perchance He has too