CHAPTER XLVIII.

THE PLOT.

Father Duncan sat in the eastern window of Goldwell Hall, on the eve of Christmas, in earnest conversation with the Lady Alice.

'It would be a pious offering to the shrine of the Virgin, if, lady, these heretics could but receive a shock on the day of the nativity. It would carry along with it such a conviction of vengeance from on high, that all the pious in Ipswich would be moved to prayer, and all the heretics affrighted might see and know that the Papal hierarchy are supported by miraculous interference.

'What thou dost imagine, relative to that extinction of the flame of E. in thy votive candles, must be given thee; for the application is so apposite, that nothing but supernatural suggestion could possibly have presented it to thy mind.

'Thy devotions, Lady Alice are so intense, thy supplications to the Virgin Mary so earnest, that she compels the powers of the heavens to listen to her voice, and to grant thee thy request. The enemies of Rome must be extinguished. It is impossible that two flames should shine together with such opposite lights as heresy and faith; and that which we saw extinguished is, as thou dost premise, a sure presage of the establishment and extinction of those very powers which, in the persons of Alice and Ellen, represent the A. and E. in the flames, or Apostolic and Erroneous, a sure presage I say, most noble lady, of the extinction of Error, and establishment of the Apostolic See.

'Ellen Latimer, the daughter of Lord De Freston, is the most subtle enemy of the Church of Rome. Her power must be extinguished in Ipswich; and what so effectual as the destruction of her mansion, and that of her ignoble and heretical father on the same night?'

'It is well conceived, Lady Alice, and thou hast been quick, indeed, in the application of thy means. Those means are put into thine hand, thou needest not to be afraid, they will assuredly succeed; and we shall see a blaze both far and near which cannot fail to be convincing.'

'Oh, may they convince the impious enemies of Rome that they cannot prosper! I have well assured Abdil Foley of his reward. He has engaged to fire the wainscot in those unfrequented apartments of the castle of De Freston, which, ever since the death of Lady De Freston, have been closed, and are only occasionally visited by the lord himself.'

'Abdil gains access thereto from the servant's apartments, and as he has been engaged in some repairs in that part of the building, he has conveyed thereto a quantity of shavings, and inserted them behind the panels, so that the slightest influence of fire will spread beyond the possibility of its being extinguished.'

'Abdil will be among the merry-makers at the hall, and will seize his opportunity, just as he is about to leave for his own house, to go up into his son's room for his cloak. It will be at twelve o'clock. He will escape, and we must provide for him should he be suspected. None have any suspicions at the present time.'

'Abdil is now in my hall, and only awaits thy promised absolution to convince you that he is a good Catholic, ready to do the bidding of any of the priests of Rome. Shall I send him unto thee, Father Duncan?'

'Do, my daughter.'

Abdil Foley was one of those weak men, but strong, resolute devotees, who pinned his faith entirely to the word of the priest, so as to take everything he told him to do as a message from heaven. He had been taught to think Lord De Freston and his daughter had changed their profession of true religion for the false one.

He had been one among others who, though a tenant of the lord of Freston, had not been disturbed from his occupation, although the minds of many around him had changed through the very wise and able exposition of the learned noble who often instructed his tenantry. He had not been dispossessed because he retained his attachment to Rome.

Having occasion frequently to visit Ipswich as a carpenter of considerable skill, he had been noticed by the priesthood for his bending his will to their suggestions, and the infatuated man had, as many before and after have done, allowed himself to be made the tool of the hierarchy to do things diametrically opposed to the Word of God.

He had found himself completely under the hand of the lady of Cold Hall, and had been so piously inspired with her spirit, that he had promised, as a religious act of faith, to set fire to his master's premises.

Father Duncan understood the character of the man the moment he saw him, and adapted his mode of address accordingly, as the profound fool entered the apartment, bowing to the very earth, as if he was entering into the presence of the Pope himself.

'Abdil, my son, thou art welcome to our presence. Come hither, that I may lay my hands upon thee, and give thee absolution. Thy resolution to serve the church of thy fathers is nobly taken, and the destruction of heretics is a duty which every true son of Rome must feel to be a privilege, as he is therein made an instrument of vengeance upon the ungodly.

'The pious lady of this mansion has informed me, that thou dost desire to have absolution from all sin in the act thou art about to perform against that pestilent heretic, Lord De Freston. We give it thee freely and absolutely, and do not only assure thee of perfect pardon for all thy past sins, but for this act thou shall have free grace and exculpation for all sins thou mayest commit for twelve months to come.

'Therefore, my son, kneel down, that we may bless thee and strengthen thy hands by the taking of them between our own, as an assurance of their being clean from all iniquity.'

Abdil Foley knelt with the most profound submission, closed the palms of his hands as if they were two boards glued together, and inserted them with reverence between the opening palms of Father Duncan.

No wonder that he should be elevated by the imposition. The terms were such as the greatest villain who had any faith in Rome might conscientiously accept, and proceed, as Abdil did, to put in practice the most diabolical act under the pretence of doing God's service.

He returned to Freston seven times more infatuated and diabolical than he had ever before been. The poor fellow was of a naturally kind-hearted, easy temper, but was weak, ignorant, and easily imposed upon; just such as the priests of that day sought for to do the work they dared not themselves perform.

Everything was arranged, but too successfully, for the destruction of Lord De Freston's castle, and the late residence of Ellen, his daughter, in the centre of Ipswich, so long belonging to the Wingfields. Abdil had been made instrumental in the latter as well as the former, under the pretence of being employed about some repairs; so that he was in the plot, and sworn to secrecy.

We shall see, however, that if vengeance inflicted by man is suffered to prevail for a moment, it recoils upon the head of the perpetrator, even when he is seeking the ruin of the innocent. How awful were the intrigues of those days! Truth requires no intrigue, certainly no violence, to defend it. It is so calm and exalted above passion, that it scorns alike to put in force absolute cruelty, as it does absolute condemnation or acquittal.