d committed another sin
besides intemperate rage. He had neglected a dying man.

He rose instantly, groaning at his accumulated wickedness, and set out
to repair the omission. The weather had changed; it was raining hard,
and when he got clear of the town, he heard the wolves baying; they were
on the foot, But Clement was himself again, or nearly; he thought little
of danger or discomfort, having a shameful omission of religious duty to
repair: he went stoutly forward through rain and darkness.

And as he went, he often beat his breast, and cried, "MEA CULPA! MEA
CULPA!"

CHAPTER LXXXIX

What that sensitive mind, and tender conscience, and loving heart, and
religious soul, went through even in a few hours, under a situation so
sudden and tremendous, is perhaps beyond the power of words to paint.

Fancy yourself the man; and then put yourself in his place! Were I to
write a volume on it, we should have to come to that at last.

I shall relate his next two overt acts. They indicate his state of mind
after the first fierce tempest of the soul had subsided. After
spending the night with the dying hermit in giving and receiving holy
consolations, he set out not for Rotterdam, but for Tergou. He went
there to confront his fatal enemy the burgomaster, and by means of that
parchment, whose history, by-the-by was itself a romance, to make him
disgorge; and give Margaret her own.

Heated and dusty, he stopped at the fountain, and there began to eat his
black bread and drink of the water. But in the middle of his frugal meal
a female servant came running, and begged him to come and shrive her
dying master, He returned the bread to his wallet, and followed her
without a word.

She took him--to the Stadthouse.

He drew back with a little shudder when he saw her go in.

But he almost instantly recovered himself, and followed her into the
house, and up the stairs. And there in bed, propped up by pillows, lay
his deadly enemy, looking already like a corpse.

Clement eyed him a moment from the door, and thought of all the tower,
the wood, the letter. Then he said in a low voice, "Pax vobiscum!" He
trembled a little while he said it.

The sick man welcomed him as eagerly as his weak state permitted. "Thank
Heaven, thou art come in time to absolve me from my sins, father, and
pray for my soul, thou and thy brethren."

"My son," said Clement, "before absolution cometh confession. In which
act there must be no reservatio