The Wanderers | Page 5

us but slight hopes of her recovery. He was necessitated to return at once to the town, but he promised to be back the next day.
Our mother rallied greatly, and when Don Antonio again appeared she seemed to be much better. He, however, looked so grave, that on his following Arthur and me into the sitting-room, we expected to hear him express an unfavourable opinion of her case. But after looking about to see that none of the servants were within hearing, he closed the door, and said in a low voice:--
"It is not on account of your mother's health that I am anxious, but for your sakes, my friends. You are supposed to be rank heretics; and I have received information that unless you forthwith attend mass, go to confession, and in all respects conform to the obligations of the Catholic faith, the Inquisition intends to lay hands on you, and to punish you severely as a warning to others. Even should your father conform, he will be unable to shield you, and you will be equally liable to punishment. If you will be advised by me, unless you are prepared to adopt the religion of the country, you will, without delay, make your escape to some part of the sea-coast remote from the capital, where you may get on board a vessel bound to one of the neighbouring islands or elsewhere. You know not the fearful punishment to which you may be subjected, should you once fall into the hands of the Inquisition; and though I myself run the risk of losing my liberty, not to speak of other consequences, by thus warning you, I could not find it in my heart to leave without doing so."
We warmly thanked our kind friend for the advice he had given us, and he repeated what he had said to our father, who shortly afterwards came into the room; but at the time he made no remark, though he was evidently greatly agitated.
Scarcely had Don Antonio gone when my mother appeared to grow much worse; and Arthur, throwing himself on horseback, galloped off as hard as his horse could go to bring him back. We anxiously waited his return with the physician, for every moment my mother grew worse and worse. How thankful we were when Don Antonio arrived; but no sooner had he felt her pulse, than, calling my father out of the room, he told him that she was dying, and that he could do nothing for her. His words proved too true. As we all stood round her bed, she entreated us to adhere firmly to the faith in which we had been brought up; then, desiring us to go out of the room, she had a conversation with my father on the same subject, I suspect, for he seemed much moved when we again entered. As daylight streamed into the room, she breathed her last.
We all felt her loss greatly, and poor Marian was so overwhelmed with grief that we were in serious anxiety on her account.
In that latitude, burial rapidly follows death. It was a sore trial to us to see her carried to her grave, which had been prepared in a picturesque spot on the side of a hill not far from the house. Scarcely had the coffin been lowered into it, when two priests arrived to perform the burial-service. They appeared to be highly indignant that the funeral should have taken place without their presence, and, from expressions which they let drop, it was very evident that they looked upon us all as a family of heretics. My father tried to pacify them, however, and fancied that he had sent them away satisfied.
"Remember the warning I have given you," observed Don Antonio, as he bade us goodbye. "Do not be deceived, even should the friars who may come here appear to be on friendly terms; their object will be to betray you."
It had been arranged that Uncle Paul and Arthur should return to the town and attend to business next morning, while I was to remain with poor Marian to try and comfort her.
Some time after dark, while we were all assembled in the sitting-room, there was a knock at the door, and Arthur went out to see who had come to visit us. He quickly returned with a note for my father in his hand, which he said Don Antonio had sent by his black servant. It contained merely the words, "Follow the advice I gave. It should on no account be put off till to-morrow."
The negro having been sent back with a verbal message to the effect that the prescription should be strictly followed, my father sat down, with Uncle Paul and Arthur, to consider what was to be done.
"For myself," he