Father Amyot on the next morning sent a message to Hilary praying him to come and see him. This Hilary did at once, and in much perplexity as to what the reason of such a summons could be. He went straight to the Cathedral, for there he knew the ascetic priest passed all his time. He found him, as he expected, prostrate before the altar, and almost in the same attitude he had seen him in yesterday. Horribly too it reminded him of the attitude of that figure lying on the floor of Fleta’s laboratory when he had entered it. He had to touch Father Amyot to attract his attention; then at once the priest rose and led the way out of the Cathedral into the cloisters, which joined it to the monastery close at hand. He went on, without speaking, his head drooped. Hilary could but follow. At last they reached a bare cell in which was no furniture but a crucifix and a perpetual lamp burning before it, and against the wall a bench. Here Father Amyot sat down, and he motioned with his hand to Hilary to sit beside him. Then he fell into a profound reverie; and Hilary watching him, wondered much what was in his mind. Was Fleta even now working her spells upon him and moulding his thoughts according to her will? It almost seemed like it, for her name was the first word he uttered “The Princess Fleta,” he commenced, “is about to go upon a long and dangerous journey.” Hilary started and turned his face away, for he knew that he had turned pale. Was she really going to leave the city! How unexpected! how terrible! “In a very short time,” went on Father Amyot, “the Princess will be married and she has a mission which she desires to accomplish before her wedding, and she says that you can assist her in this. It is for the fulfilment of this mission that she is undertaking the journey I speak of; supposing you should agree to help her you would have to accompany her.” Hilary made no answer. He had no answer ready. His breath was taken away and he could not recover it all in an instant. The whole thing seemed incredible; he felt it to be impossible; and yet a conviction was already falling on him that it would take place. “Of course,” resumed Father Amyot, seeing that Hilary was not disposed to speak, “you will want to know your errand, you will want to know why you are going on this journey. This it will be impossible for you to know. The Princess does not choose to inform any one of what her errand is.” “Not even the person whom she says can help her?” exclaimed Hilary in amazement “Not even you.” “Well,” said Hilary rising with a gesture of indignation, “let her find some one else to go blindly in her wake. I am not the man.” So saying he walked across the cell to the doorway, forgetting even to say good-bye to Father Amyot. But the priest’s voice arrested him. “You would travel alone, save for one attendant.” Hilary turned and faced the priest in amazement. “Oh, impossible!” he exclaimed, “——yet it is true.”