Jerome saw that the presence of Basil was a continual irritant to the
desperate man, so he himself ordered his satellite to withdraw. Basil
obeyed with no very good grace, and the look that Windybank received
boded ill. Jerome now placed his victim in a cosy chair, threw open
the casement that the fresh breeze from the woods might enter, and
brought the glass of wine he had ordered. Master Andrew drank it, then
lay back with closed eyes, his brain busy with tumultuous thought. The
Spaniard sat and watched him as a wolf might watch a slumbering dog;
his brain was as busy as that of the other. Was his plan doomed to
failure at the last moment? If the master of Dean Tower failed him at
so critical a juncture, he could not see how to proceed. More than
ever did the conspirators require a place of refuge, not only for
themselves, but for others whom Jerome was daily expecting.
Father Jerome got up and quietly left the room, proceeding to an
ante-chamber where he knew Basil was lurking.
"Well?" asked the latter when he saw his chief.
"Thou hast been too harsh and hasty, my son. The meanest man will turn
to bay if his dignity is wounded too sorely. We have found Master
Windybank weak and pliable, and we have been too contemptuous of his
manhood. He hath a little, and that last blow of thine has aroused it."
Basil fell on his knees in contrition. "Forgive me!" he murmured.
Jerome raised him up and gave him a perfunctory kiss on the forehead.
"We can forgive faults that arise from excess of zeal," he replied,
"and we must have patience with the weak-kneed; a time will come when
we shall be able to visit their sins upon them. At present we must
play the loving friend; we can be the merciless judge at the opportune
moment. Get thee to Gatcombe, my son. Watch the admiral well, and
send the messenger thou wottest of down to Chepstow to learn if there
be any tidings of our friends from Ireland. The time for action is
fully come; the foresters are lulled again to security; we must strike
as speedily as possible. I shall expect thee at midnight to-morrow.
Meantime I will bring back our host to a sense of his duty and
religion."
Basil bent one knee to receive his superior's blessing. "Benedicite!"
murmured Jerome.
His subordinate seized his hand and pressed it to his lips. "I am
forgiven, father?" he asked.
"Forgiven and blessed," answered Jerome. "Go! and the Holy Virgin
watch over thee."
Basil pulled his hood over his face, opened a small oak door whose
hinges had been generously oiled, and disappeared amongst the trees.
Jerome went back to Windybank.
Chapter XI.
DARKNESS AND THE RIVER.
The hunt and its incidents were three days old.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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