14
The bigotry of the period made the injunction of a Father Confessor almost a law; and Rosamond scarcely paused to ask herself if what she purposed was wrong, secure that the sanction of the church would not be given to evil.
Father Ambrose was one of the many wretches, who make religion the cloak to villany. The moment he learnt from the confessions of Rosamond who was her lover, he sought means to communicate with Henry, and to ingratiate himself with the future Monarch, as well as with the hope of present gain, agreed to become the pander of his Prince.
The curfew had tolled, and every light was extinguished—the cottager had dashed the ashes from the wood slip that in those days supplied the place of candles—and all was silence and darkness: the solitary sound of the startled wolf-dog alone broke upon the ear, as Henry, guided by a confidant of Father Ambrose, paced the confines of Godstow Nunnery.
"Descend, and be in safety, and in bliss," exclaimed a voice, whose lightest echo was a heart-throb to her. There was no time for pause, for thought—her foot was upon the ladder—Henry's hand had grasped hers and she descended.
