On the Good Friday evening he was long in the parlour with Father Robert.
"I am deeply thankful, my son," he said kindly, "that you have been able
to come to a decision. Of course I could have wished you to enter the
Society; but God has not given you a vocation to that apparently.
However, you can do great work for Him as a seminary priest; and I am
exceedingly glad that you will be going to Douai so soon."
"I must just put my affairs in order at home," he said, "and see what
arrangements my sister will wish to make; and by Midsummer at the latest
I shall hope to be gone."
"I must be off early to-morrow," said the priest. "I have to be far from
here by to-morrow night, in a house where I shall hope to stay until I,
too, go abroad again. Possibly we may meet at Douai in the autumn. Well,
my son, pray for me."
Anthony knelt for his blessing, and the priest was gone.
Presently Mr. Buxton came in and sat down. He was full of delight at the
result of his scheme; and said so again and again.
"Who could have predicted it?" he cried. "To think that you were visiting
me in prison fifteen months ago; and now this has come about in my house!
Truly the Gospel blessing on your action has not been long on the way!
And that you will be a priest, too! You must come and be my chaplain some
day; if we are both alive and escape the gallows so long. Old Mr. Blake
is sore displeased with me. I am a trial to him, I know. He will hardly
speak to me in my own house; I declare I tremble when I meet him in the
gallery; for fear he will rate me before my servants.
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