He just had a glimpse of the retreating figure as it disappeared round the far angle. The plume, and the lank hair, the point of the rapier-scabbard, the flutter of the skirt of the cloak, and one red stocking and heel; and this was the last he saw of him. When Alice reached his side, his drawn sword still in his hand, he was in a state of abject agitation. "Thank Heaven, he's gone!" she exclaimed. "He's gone," echoed Ultor, with a strange glare. "And you are safe," she added, clasping his hand. He sighed a great sigh. "And you don't think he's coming back?" "He!--who?" "The stranger who passed us but now. Do you know him, father?" "Yes--and--no, child--I know him not--and yet I know him too well. Would to heaven we could leave this accursed haunt tonight. Cursed be the stupid malice that first provoked this horrible feud, which no sacrifice and misery can appease, and no exorcism can quell or even suspend. The wretch has come from afar with a sure instinct to devour my last hope--to dog us into our last retreat--and to blast with his triumph the very dust and ruins of our house. What ails that stupid priest that he has given over his visits? Are _my_ children to be left without mass or confession--the sacraments which _guard_ as well as save--because he once loses his way in a mist, or mistakes a streak of foam in the brook for a dead man's face? D--n him!" "See, Alice, if he won't come," he resumed, "you must only _write_ your confession to him in full--you and Una. Laurence is trusty, and will carry it--and we'll get the bishop's--or, if need be, the Pope's leave for him to give you absolution. I'll move heaven and earth, but you _shall_ have the sacraments, poor children!--and see him. I've been a wild fellow in my youth, and never pretended to sanctity; but I know there's but one safe way--and--and--keep you each a bit of this--(he opened a small silver box)--about you while you stay here--fold and sew it up reverently in a bit of the old psaltery parchment and wear it next your hearts--'tis a fragment of the consecrated wafer--and will help, with the saints' protection, to guard you from harm--and be strict in fasts, and constant in prayer--_I_ can do nothing--nor devise any help. The curse has fallen, indeed, on me and mine." And Alice, saw, in silence, the tears of despair roll down his pale and agitated face. This adventure was also a secret, and Una was to hear nothing of it. CHAPTER VI Voices Now Una, nobody knew why, began to lose spirit, and to grow pale. Her fun and frolic were quite gone! Even her songs ceased. She was silent with her sister, and loved solitude better. She said she was well, and quite happy, and could in no wise be got to account for the lamentable change that had stolen over her. She had grown odd too, and obstinate in trifles; and strangely reserved and cold.