'Yes, sir,' Mary said, her courage, as ever, rising when needed. 'What is your business with me?' 'I am sent on an errand by one you know of as Ambrose Gifford--called by us Brother Ambrosio. He lies sick unto death in a desolate village before Zutphen, and he would fain see you ere he departs hence. There is not a moment to lose; you must come at once. I have a barge ready, and we can reach the place by water.' Mary was still hurrying forward, but the detaining grasp grew firmer. 'If I tell you that by coming you will see your son, will you consent?' 'My son! my boy!' Mary exclaimed. 'I would traverse the world to find him, but how am I to know that you are not deceiving me.' 'I swear by the blessed Virgin and all the Saints I am telling you the truth. Come!' 'I must seek counsel. I must consider; do not press me.' 'Your boy is lying also in the very jaws of death. A consuming fever has seized many of our fraternity. Famine has resulted in pestilence. When I left the place where Brother Ambrosio and the boy lie, it was doubtful which would depart first. The rites of the Holy Church have been administered, and the priest, who would fain shrive Brother Ambrosio, sent me hither, for confession must be made of sins, ere absolution be bestowed. If you wish to see your son alive you must not hesitate. It may concern you less if I tell you that he who was your husband may have departed unabsolved through your delay.' The twilight was deepening, and there were but few people in this quarter of the town. Mary hesitated no longer, and, with an uplifting of heart for the strength Sir Philip's parting blessing had invoked, she gathered the folds of her cloak round her, pulled the hood over her face, and saying, 'Lead on, I am ready,' she followed her guide through some narrow lanes leading to the brink of the water, where a barge was lying, with a man at the prow, evidently on the watch for their coming. Not a word was spoken as Mary entered the barge, and took her seat on one of the benches laid across it, her guide leaving her unmolested and retiring to the further end of the vessel. There was no sound but the monotonous splash of the oars, and their regular beat against the edge of the boat, as the two men pulled out into the wider part of the river. Above, the stars were coming out one by one, and the wide stretch of low meadow-land and water lay in the purple haze of gathering shadows like an unknown and undiscovered country, till it was lost in the overarching canopy of the dim far-off heavens. Mary Gifford felt strangely indifferent to all outward things as she sat with her hands tightly clasped together under her cloak, and in her heart only one thought had room--that she was in a few short hours to clasp her boy in her arms. So over-mastering was this love and hungry yearning of the mother for her child, that his condition--stricken by fever, and that of his father lying at the very gates of death--were almost forgotten.