have fain tarried longer yet, but that his father sent a retinue of
servants at length to bring him home again.

But Raymond did not go with him. His work for Roger was not yet done,
and warmly attached as he was to John, his heart was still more centred
upon Father Paul. Besides, no mention was made of him in the letter that
accompanied the summons home. His brother was he knew not where, and his
duty lay with Roger, who looked to him as to a saviour and protector.

There was no thought of Roger's leaving the retreat he had found in his
hour of need. He scarce dared put foot outside the quiet cloistered
quadrangle behind whose gates and walls he alone felt safe. Besides, his
father lay slowly dying in the hospital hard by. It seemed as though the
very joy of having his son restored to him had been too much for his
enfeebled frame after the long strain of grief that had gone before. The
process of decay might be slow, but it was sure, and all knew that the
old man would ere long die. He had no desire for life, if only his boy
were safe; and to Raymond he presented a pathetic petition that he would
guard and cherish him, and save him from that terrible possession which
had well-nigh been his ruin body and soul.

To Raymond it seemed indeed as if this soul had been given him, and he
passed his word with a solemnity that brought great comfort to the dying
man.

An incident which had occurred shortly before had added to Raymond's
sense of responsibility with regard to Roger, and had shown him likewise
that a new peril menaced his own path in life, though of personal danger
the courageous boy thought little.