n the opposite side
of the street who was evidently watching her.

Her heart beat fast as she saw him crossing over to the place where she
stood on the threshold of the entry to Madam Gruithuissens' house.

She quickened her steps as she turned away in the direction of Master
Gifford's house, but she felt a hand laid on her arm.

'I am speaking to one Mistress Gifford, methinks.'

'Yes, sir,' Mary said, her courage, as ever, rising when needed. 'What is
your business with me?'

'I am sent on an errand by one you know of as Ambrose Gifford--called by us
Brother Ambrosio. He lies sick unto death in a desolate village before
Zutphen, and he would fain see you ere he departs hence. There is not a
moment to lose; you must come at once. I have a barge ready, and we can
reach the place by water.'

Mary was still hurrying forward, but the detaining grasp grew firmer.

'If I tell you that by coming you will see your son, will you consent?'

'My son! my boy!' Mary exclaimed. 'I would traverse the world to find him,
but how am I to know that you are not deceiving me.'

'I swear by the blessed Virgin and all the Saints I am telling you the
truth. Come!'

'I must seek counsel. I must consider; do not press me.'

'Your boy is lying also in the very jaws of death. A consuming fever has
seized many of our fraternity. Famine has resulted in pestilence. When I
left the place where Brother Ambrosio and the boy lie, it was doubtful
which would depart first. The rites of the Holy Church have been
administered, and the priest, who would fain shrive Brother Ambrosio, sent
me hither, for confession must be made of sins, ere absolution be bestowed.
If you wish to see your son alive you must not hesitate. It may concern you
less if I tell you that he who was your husband may have departed
unabsolved through your delay.'

The twilight was deepening, and there were but few people in this quarter
of the town. Mary hesitated no longer, and, with an uplifting of heart for
the strength Sir Philip's parting blessing had invoked, she gathered the
folds of her cloak round her, pulled the hood over her face, and saying,
'Lead on, I am ready,' she followed her guide through some narrow lanes
leading to the brink of the water, where a barge was lying, with a man at
the prow, evidently on the watch for their coming.

Not a word was spoken as Mary entered the barge, and took her seat on one
of the benches laid across it, her guide leaving her un