“Thou, thou, Lord Cedric, dare to receive confession from one whose life thou hast no part in.  Dost thou know the penalty of such wickedness?  All evil will be visited upon thee for playing the part of a holy priest.  Indeed, of all the sins I had deemed thee capable, I had ne’er thought of one so wicked as this!” She fell back in the corner of the coach in such fury, she could not find further utterance.

CHAPTER XX

UNPROCLAIMED BANNS

“Indeed, Mistress Penwick, I asked not for thy confessions.  But now that I have heard them, ’tis my meed to be punished by thy sharp tongue for that I could not help.  Come, Sweet, forgive and love me.  Have I not suffered enough?”

“Lambkin, I am out of all humour with thee.  Thou art half a termagant, I admit!”

“And thou, too, wert privy to this deception.  I am truly without friends!” and the maid began to weep softly behind her handkerchief.  Lord Cedric was beside himself with his folly.

“If I only could have withstood thee; but how could I with thy tender words and thy closeness—­”

“There is nothing accomplished but mistakes!” Janet ventured, being impatient with both Cedric and Kate.

“—­Kate!—­Kate! dost not thou know how I have longed for thee; how my heart has ached in thine absence?  Those two whole days I lay abed were like so many years, and when I thought of thy danger, I fell into a fever and I arose and leapt upon the fleetest steed and rode until my fever cooled; and then—­when I had thee once more, I could not keep from thee longer; I resolved upon this plan that I might be with thee, and ride by thy side.  And thou dost murder me outright.  Thou dost kill me, Kate!  I was a fool to undertake it, I know; but I thought of two whole days I should be separated from thee and felt I could not bear to wait.  Thy words, Kate, were so sweet.  Kate, come to me once more and see how loving I can be.  Let me dry thy tears,—­let thy head rest here upon my heart and close thine eyes and dream—­dream, Kate, of what we must be to each other, and then wake and find me bending over thee.  Come, Sweet, come!” He sought her elusive fingers and tried to draw her to him with a tenderness she could hardly withstand; but she would not unbend, drawing from him, sinking further into the corner.

“And did Sir Julian know of this ruse of thine?” she asked, haughtily.

“Janet, methinks the maid speaks with thee!”

“What is it, Lambkin?  I was not listening.”

“I will wait until the storm ceases, perhaps thou wilt find thy hearing by then.”  There was a long silence within the coach.  The tears of Mistress Penwick were dried and she sat sullen, deliberately trying to hate Lord Cedric.  There came a sudden burst of thunder that turned the tide of her thoughts from him to Sir Julian, who rode by her window constantly.  At every flash of lightning