usiness not such a very bad one, had asked something about
her worldly wealth, Eustace saw a door of escape and sprang at it.

"Even if she be a heretic, she is heiress to one of the wealthiest
merchants in Devon."

"Ah!" said Campian, thoughtfully. "And she is but eighteen, you say?"

"Only eighteen."

"Ah! well, my son, there is time. She may be reconciled to the Church:
or you may change."

"I shall die first."

"Ah, poor lad! Well; she may be reconciled, and her wealth may be of use
to the cause of Heaven."

"And it shall be of use. Only absolve me, and let me be at peace. Let
me have but her," he cried piteously. "I do not want her wealth,--not I!
Let me have but her, and that but for one year, one month, one day!--and
all the rest--money, fame, talents, yea, my life itself, hers if it be
needed--are at the service of Holy Church. Ay, I shall glory in showing
my devotion by some special sacrifice,--some desperate deed. Prove me
now, and see what there is I will not do!"

And so Eustace was absolved; after which Campian added,--

"This is indeed well, my son: for there is a thing to be done now, but
it may be at the risk of life."

"Prove me!" cried Eustace, impatiently.

"Here is a letter which was brought me last night; no matter from
whence; you can understand it better than I, and I longed to have shown
it you, but that I feared my son had become--"

"You feared wrongly, then, my dear Father Campian."

So Campian translated to him the cipher of the letter.

"This to Evan Morgans, gentleman, at Mr. Leigh's house in Moorwinstow,
Devonshire. News may be had by one who will go to the shore of Clovelly,
any evening after the 25th of November, at dead low tide, and there
watch for a boat, rowed by one with a red beard, and a Portugal by his
speech. If he be asked, 'How many?' he will answer, 'Eight hundred and
one.' Take his letters and read them. If the shore be watched, let him
who comes show a light three times in a safe place under the cliff
above the town; below is dangerous landing. Farewell, and expect great
things!"

"I will go," said Eustace; "to-morrow is the 25th, and I know a sure and
easy place. Your friend seems to know these shores well."

"Ah! what is it we do not know?" said Campian, with a mysterious smile.
"And now?"

"And now, to prove to you how I trust to you, you shall come with me,
and see this--the lady of whom I spoke, and judge for yourself whether
my fault is not a ven