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Benson, Robert Hugh, 1871-1914

"Come Rack! Come Rope!"


"Was the message important, sir?"
"Important only to those who value love and fidelity."
"I could deliver it myself, then?"
"Certainly, sir. If you will give me your word to deliver it to her
Grace, as I deliver it to you, and to none else, I will ride on and
trouble you no more."
"That is enough," said the physician decidedly. "I am completely
satisfied, Mr. Alban. All that remains is to consider how I can get you
to her Grace."
"But if you yourself will deliver--" began Robin.
An extraordinary spasm passed over the other's face, that might denote
any fierce emotion, either of anger or grief.
"Do you think it is that?" he hissed. "Why, man, where is your
priesthood? Do you think the poor dame within would not give her soul
for a priest?... Why, I have prayed God night and day to send us a
priest. She is half mad with sorrow; and who knows whether ever again in
this world--"
He broke off, his face all distorted with pain; and Robin felt a strange
thrill of glory at the thought that he bore with him, in virtue of his
priesthood only, so much consolation. He faced for the first time that
tremendous call of which he had heard so much in Rheims--that desolate
cry of souls that longed and longed in vain for those gifts which a
priest of Christ could alone bestow....
"... The question is," the old man was saying more quietly, "how to get
you in to her Grace. Why, Sir Amyas opens her letters even, and reseals
them again! He thinks me a fool, and that I do not know what he does.


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