“Most certainly, young gentleman; Sister Theresa is not restricted.  It was at her own request that I attended her hither.”

“Thank you, dear lady—­that which I have to say to—­Sister Theresa—­involves the confidence of others:  else I should not have made the request that you have so kindly granted,” said Cloudy, considerably mollified.

The Abbess curtsied in the old stately way, and retired.

Cloudy looked at Jacquelina reproachfully.

“Are you going to be a nun, Lina?”

“Yes.  Oh, Cloudy, Cloudy! what do you come here to disturb my thoughts so for?  Oh, Cloudy! every time you come to see me, you do so upset and confuse my mind!  You have no idea how many aves and paters, and psalms and litanies I have to say before I can quiet my mind down again!  And now this is worse than all.  Dear, dear Cloudy!—­St. Mary, forgive me, I never meant that—­I meant plain Cloudy—­see how you make me sin in words!  What did you send Mother Ettienne away for?”

“That I might talk to you alone.  Why do you deny me that small consolation, Lina?  How have I offended, that you should treat me so?”

“In no way at all have you offended, dearest Cloudy—­St. Peter! there it is again—­I mean only Cloudy.”

“Never mind explaining the distinction.  You are going to be a nun, you say!  Very well—­let that pass, too!  But you must leave your convent, and go into the world yet once more, and then I shall have opportunities of talking to you before your return.”

“No, no; never will I leave my convent—­never will I subject my soul to such a temptation.”

“My dear Lina, I have the cabalistic words that must draw you forth—­listen!  Our cousin, Thurston Willcoxen, is in prison, charged with the murder of Marian Mayfield”—­a stifled shriek from Jacquelina—­“and there is circumstantial evidence against him strong enough to ruin him forever, if it does not cost him his life.  Now, Lina, I cannot be wrong in supposing that you know who struck that death-blow, and that your evidence can thoroughly exonerate Thurston from suspicion!  Am I right?”

“Yes! yes! you are right,” exclaimed Jacquelina, in great agitation.

“You will go, then?”

“Yes! yes.”

“When?”

“In an hour—­this moment—­with you.”

“With me?”

“Yes!  I may do so in such a case.  I must do so!  Oh!  Heaven knows, I have occasioned sin enough, without causing more against poor Thurston!”

“You will get ready, then, immediately, dear Lina.  Are you sure there will be no opposition?”

“Certainly not.  Why, Cloudy, are you one of those who credit ’raw head and bloody bones’ fables about convents?  I have no jailer but my own conscience, Cloudy.  Besides, my year’s vows expired yesterday, and I am free for awhile, before renewing them perpetually,” said Jacquelina, hurrying away to get ready.

“And may I be swung to the yard-arm if ever I let you renew them,” said Cloudy, while he waited for her.