An hour of patient loitering rewarded him. Dominica at last appeared, accompanied by her maid, and bound, as Joshua had hoped she might be, to hear Mass at a neighbouring Church. She cast a passing look at him where he lounged, but it was unrecognising. As well it might be, for there was little trace of swaggering Joshua in the sober, clean-shaved personage she saw. He wore a buffin gown as might some needy clerk; gone were the ambitious mustachios, gone the beard that Sir Nicholas was wont to call his _pique de vent_, gone, too, the strutting carriage. A meek individual followed my lady at a discreet distance to Church. She chose an unoccupied bench at the back of the Church. Joshua waited until old Carmelita was bowed over her rosary, devout and unseeing, then slid on to the bench and edged gradually closer to my lady. Her eyes were open, looking straight before her. She became aware of Joshua and turned her head. She was inclined to be angry at his encroachment: that he saw by the spark in her eyes. He looked fully at her, laid a finger to his lips and beckoned her surreptitiously nearer. She did not know him; she stiffened; her look should have abashed him. He was at a loss; he dared not move nearer to her lest the maid should be roused from her devotions, or the lady withdraw. He looked imploringly, and she turned her shoulder. A hasty glance round him showed him only a few people busy at their prayers. He bent his head and whispered: "Lady, _Reck Not_!" His quick eyes peeped up at her; she had heard; she was looking keenly at him now. Again he made that little beckoning movement. She let fall her missal, bent to pick it up, and in the doing of it shifted her position till she was close beside him. He pretended to mumble prayers, telling over the beads of a rosary. "Lady, you do not know me. I am Joshua Dimmock. My beard is off. What of that? Caution! Caution!" She stole a glance at him, met the upward flash of his shrewd grey eyes. Recognition sprang into her own. She bent her head and put her clasped hands up to hide her face. "You! Oh, what do you know?" "He is in ward. Courage, señorita! I am here to discover what plans are laid for you. Does Tuesday hold good yet?" "Saturday," she whispered back. "To-morrow. He sent you? You have contrived to get speech with him?" "Nay. Be of good heart, lady, and keep faith. He will break free yet." She gave a long sigh. "I have led him to his death." Privately Joshua was in complete agreement with her. "It was noticeable," he said later, "that she seemed to have little idea of having led me thitherwards. But I let that pass."