The bell for the Sisters' supper rang clanging out. Madame Guise put her bonnet on, and rose. "Do forgive me," she whispered with deprecation. "I might not to have mentioned it to you; I did not wish to offend, or to hurt your feelings. But I am very lonely here; I have but my own heart to commune with." "And thoughts are free," reflected Mary Ursula. "It was only natural that the mysterious story should lay hold of her." And in heart she excused the stranger. "Be at ease," she said, taking Madame's hand. "Dismiss it from your mind. It is not a thing that need trouble you." "Not trouble me!" repeated Madame Guise to herself as she went through the gate. "It is me alone that it ought to trouble, of all in the wide world." She turned to the right, intending to go home by Chapel Lane, instead of crossing to the broad open front road; but to pass the Friar's Keep at any period of the day, and especially at night, had for Charlotte Guise an irresistible fascination. Some instinct within her, whether false or true, was always whispering that it was there she must seek for traces of her husband. She reached the gate of the chapel ruins, hesitated, and then entered it. The same fascination that drew her to pass the Friar's Keep on her road home, caused her to enter the ruins that led to the place. A shiver, induced by nervousness, took her as she closed the gate behind her; and she did not pass into the Keep, but crossed over to the edge of the cliff. The sea and the boats on it seemed like so much company. Not that many boats could be seen. Just two or three, fishing lower down beyond the village, rather far off, in fact; but their lights proved that they were there, and it made her feel less lonely. It was not a very light night: no moon, and the stars did not shine over brightly; but the atmosphere was clear, and the moss-covered wall of the Friar's Keep with its gothic door might be seen very distinctly. "If I only dared go in and search about!--with a lantern or something of that!" she said to herself, glancing sideways at it. "I might come upon some token, some bit of his dress, perhaps, that had been torn away in the struggle. For a struggle there must have been. Anthony was brave, and he would not let them take his life without having a fight for it. Unless they shot him without warning!"