‘Daughter,’ said the priest, ‘I would fain say in the language of the Holy Book, “Many daughters have done well, but thou hast surpassed them all.” Still, it seems to me so marvellous, I can scarcely understand it.’ ‘The mystery is being cleared up. I saw an English actress in the street yesterday, who I believe can help us in the matter. But in the meanwhile let us see these documents. We shall have done a great work for the Church if we can take these documents, find the child, establish his claims in a court of law, and secure him as a true son of the Church. Ah, that will be grand!’ said the Countess joyfully. ‘I gain a son for the Church.’ ‘Heaven will reward you, daughter,’ said the priest; ‘but hasten and fetch the casket.’ The Countess left the room to find it. In a little while she returned with it in her hands. ‘There it is,’ said she, as she handed it to the priest. ‘What a lovely casket!’ said the priest. ‘Ah, one thinks of what it contains,’ said the lady; ‘a title—an estate—a life, which will all be handed over to the Church.’ With a trembling hand the priest opened it; the Countess in an equally excited state looking on. In the casket was an official-looking wrapper. ‘It is all right,’ said the Countess; ‘break the seal and master its contents.’ ‘All in good time,’ said the priest. ‘Don’t agitate yourself; be calm.’ ‘I am,’ said the Countess; ‘but delay not. Secure the prize; the hour has come.’ Suddenly the priest turned red and white. ‘In the name of the Holy Father,’ he said, ‘what have we here?’ ‘Why, documents of the highest importance.’ ‘Nothing of the kind,’ exclaimed the priest in a rage. ‘Nothing but an old English newspaper,’ as he threw it on the ground, with something that sounded like a rather expressive Italian oath. The lady shrieked and nearly fainted away, only she thought better of it. The situation, it occurred to her, would be neither interesting nor picturesque. Alas! she had no help for it. That English maid-servant, of whom she fancied she had made a dupe, was more than a match for her after all, and had tampered with the documents she had carefully sealed and religiously guarded these many years. All she could do was weep, and weep she did, till she nearly wept herself to death, failing of her long-treasured scheme of revenge. Of her servant she had lost all trace. To find her was out of the question; her only hope was in Miss Howard.