"And when you are brought—I mean, if you are brought before Father Barnaby, you will say these same things. Oh, brother, brother!" she exclaimed, falling on her knees at Jack's side. "Do not be obstinate! Do not throw away your life for nothing. You are young; you have been misled by others. They will be merciful to you if you do but recant your errors, and tell the names of those who have misled you. Oh, brother, brother! Do not be stiff-necked; do but confess, and all will be well." A sudden light broke in upon Jack's mind. He cast off his sister's hand and drew back, as if from a snake. "Anne!" said he sternly. "You have betrayed me." Anne did not answer. She covered her face with her hands. "You have acted the traitor's part a second time," continued Jack. "It was not enough to give over your friend to death, but you have stained your soul with this new treason. I believe you have already seen Father Barnaby." Anne did not deny it. She sunk her head still lower, but said not a word. "You have, then, done the mischief already," said Jack. "When did you see the priest?" "It does not become you to question me or to speak to me thus," said Anne, striving to assume her usual tone. "I have but done that which was right, and my duty. No man is bound to keep faith with heretics. You speak of acting according to your conscience. Why should I not act according to mine?" "You know that you have not done so," said Jack, fixing a penetrating look on his sister's face. "You have belied your own conscience, and betrayed me to death, for the sake of what, in your heart, you know to be a lie. Yes, Anne, in your heart, you believe that what I have told you, and what you heard from Agnes, is true—God's own truth. If this may be heresy, you are at heart as much a heretic as I am." "I will not hear this!" said Anne hastily. "No one shall call me a heretic. You have no right to complain. I gave you fair warning. I come to you, to-night, not because I repent of what I have done, but to warn you—to give you a last chance." "Many thanks to you!" said Jack, with a bitterness he could not altogether restrain. "Pray, what is to be the price of this piece of villainy? Are you to be made a prioress, or are you to found a new order? But I not speak so," he added hastily. "God give me grace to forgive you." He walked up and down the room two or three, times, and then threw himself on his knees, by the bedside. Anne stood, stiff and silent. At last, Jack rose and turned to her.