"But wherein the good?" questioned the priest. "Surely it were best for me to seek Monsieur d’Estrailles’ chamber and tell him all; then, when I have shriven him, we may well pass the night in prayer for his soul, and that the saints may give him fortitude for the morrow." "Nay, father," whispered Gwennola pleadingly, "I too am praying for the good knight’s body, as thou didst agree, and I would fain give him one word anent the preserving of it, which can be but for his ears alone. Nay, dear father, thy little Gwennola pleads with thee not to deny so trifling a boon. What ill can befall? A few simple words of comfort and farewell to a poor stranger who to-morrow must die, and then for the rest of the night thou mayest wrestle alone with him in needful prayer for his soul." "Nay, child, but ’tis scarce seemly," sighed Father Ambrose. "And didst thy father hear of it, methinks my office of confessor would be held but a brief space. Still——" "Still," urged Gwennola softly, "thou wilt not deny me so small a boon—but ten minutes, my father, and then thou and he may spend the hours that remain in making peace with Heaven." "I fear me," sighed the priest heavily, "that thou hast inherited the spirit of our first mother, my daughter, and temptest man with fair words as she did with pleasant fruit. Yet—well I wot thou art discreet, child, and thy heart is soft and warm with pity, doubtless,—nay, there can be no warmer feeling in thy breast for this poor knight. ’Twere impossible that love can find an entrance in so brief a space." He looked curiously into the flushed, smiling face as he spoke. "Nay, father," laughed Gwennola softly. "Fie on thee! Am I not betrothed to my cousin?" Father Ambrose sighed as his keen ear caught the ring of defiance in the last words. "I pray our Blessed Lady that I do no harm," he murmured, crossing himself devoutly. "Methinks there can be little ill in so kind a thought of pity, and it may be that the poor monsieur will regard more thy words than mine. Mary, Mother, have pity on his soul!" "And his body," whispered Gwennola. "See, father, we say amen to both petitions; and now, haste thee quickly, for the time, as thou sayest, draws on apace."