“Oh, yes.”

“Come then at once.  It will be the greatest thing in history.  Tell no one.  Come before the rush begins.  In half-an-hour the way will be stopped.”

“Oliver.”

“Yes?  Quick.”

“Mother is ill.  Shall I leave her?”

“How ill?”

“Oh, no immediate danger.  The doctor has seen her.”

There was silence for a moment.

“Yes; come then.  We will go back to-night anyhow, then.  Tell her we shall be late.”

“Very well.”

" ...  Yes, you must come.  Felsenburgh will be there.”

CHAPTER IV

I

On the same afternoon Percy received a visitor.

There was nothing exceptional about him; and Percy, as he came downstairs in his walking-dress and looked at him in the light from the tall parlour-window, came to no conclusion at all as to his business and person, except that he was not a Catholic.

“You wished to see me,” said the priest, indicating a chair.

“I fear I must not stop long.”

“I shall not keep you long,” said the stranger eagerly.  “My business is done in five minutes.”

Percy waited with his eyes cast down.

“A—­a certain person has sent me to you.  She was a Catholic once; she wishes to return to the Church.”

Percy made a little movement with his head.  It was a message he did not very often receive in these days.

“You will come, sir, will you not?  You will promise me?”

The man seemed greatly agitated; his sallow face showed a little shining with sweat, and his eyes were piteous.

“Of course I will come,” said Percy, smiling.

“Yes, sir; but you do not know who she is.  It—­it would make a great stir, sir, if it was known.  It must not be known, sir; you will promise me that, too?”

“I must not make any promise of that kind,” said the priest gently.  “I do not know the circumstances yet.”

The stranger licked his lips nervously.

“Well, sir,” he said hastily, “you will say nothing till you have seen her?  You can promise me that.”

“Oh! certainly,” said the priest.

“Well, sir, you had better not know my name.  It—­it may make it easier for you and for me.  And—­and, if you please, sir, the lady is ill; you must come to-day, if you please, but not until the evening.  Will twenty-two o’clock be convenient, sir?”

“Where is it?” asked Percy abruptly.

“It—­it is near Croydon junction.  I will write down the address presently.  And you will not come until twenty-two o’clock, sir?”

“Why not now?”

“Because the—­the others may be there.  They will be away then; I know that.”

This was rather suspicious, Percy thought:  discreditable plots had been known before.  But he could not refuse outright.