Possibly my readers may have experienced the sensation caused by the unexpected and very sudden arrival of a hitherto invariably welcome friend at a moment when his presence was not exactly convenient. Now few men, if any, were so dear to Sir Everard as Father Gerard, and he used to be specially welcome when he occasionally rode to Gothurst early in a morning to say a mass in its chapel; but when Sir Everard saw "his brother," as he usually called him, riding up to Gothurst on that particular Saturday morning, and when he was told by the Father that he had come to say his mass in his chapel on this All Souls' Day, he wished, for the first time, that his favourite guest had not taken it into his head to come on that Saturday morning, "of all Saturday mornings." He knew that all the chapel furniture, as well as the chalices, vestments, and other necessaries for saying mass, had been carefully hidden away, with the exception of those which had been sent on to Dunchurch with a view to having mass said during his stay there. Besides, everything was in a state of fuss and confusion in anticipation of the start; and, as his family were to remain for some time at Coughton, the house was on the point of being shut up. One reason why the presence of Father Gerard might be particularly unwelcome just then was that, about that time, Digby may have been superintending the "great provision of armour and shot, which he sent before him in a cart with some trusty servants" to Dunchurch.[246] [246] _Narrative of the G. P._, by Father Gerard, p.92. When told that it would be impossible to have mass at Gothurst that morning, Father Gerard, in addition to his expression of disappointment--for All Souls' is a Feast upon which no priest likes to miss saying mass--may have shown signs of embarrassment; for the presence of a stranger prevented his asking his host the reasons. As soon as an opportunity offered itself, Father Gerard beckoned to Sir Everard to follow him into a room in which they would be alone.[247] There he told him that he could not understand the sudden alteration in the arrangements of his house, the putting away of so many things as if a long absence was contemplated, the removal of the family to Coughton, the preparations for a journey to Dunchurch with such an unusual number of men and horses, and--now that he came to think of it--the sales of land and stock, of which Sir Everard had spoken to him not long ago, as if to raise money for some special purpose. All this, as an intimate friend, Father Gerard was in a position to say to his so-called "brother"; and he ventured to go further and inquire whether he "had something in hand for the Catholic cause." [247] _Life of Father J. Gerard_, p. ccxxxvi.-vii. Sir Everard's answer was "No, there is nothing in hand that I know of, or can tell you of."