cis had died of a malignant fever and was buried abroad. We went into the deepest mourning and no one doubted our words.
“We heard nothing more from this ungrateful son until Duke Oswald lay upon his deathbed. Then a letter came from Francis begging his father to forgive him before he died. He wanted none of the princely fortune, but he desired a father’s blessing. His letter was dated at Borges and was signed by Francis La Force. The Duke tore the letter into strips, and turned his face to the wall. He would not allow me to summon Francis or even write to him. The next day he died without granting his son’s request. That was about ten years ago. Francis must now be in the neighborhood of twenty-five years of age, loveable, handsome, talented! My God, that such rare gifts should be so squandered!
“Your reverence, I have sent for Francis to come to me. I waited to consult with you before taking this important step, but as you delayed your coming, I acted as my heart dictated. I love the lad and I want to try to persuade him to return to the arms of the Church. Perhaps by this time, he will be glad to cast aside his delusions. If he consents to renounce his Huguenot ideas, and will become a good Catholic, he shall inherit my private fortune, which will make him independently rich. If he fails to come, or refuses my request, this
