A Search For A Secret (Vol 1 of 3)

Perhaps in all Italy there is no more unhealthy spot than is the neighbourhood of Ravenna. The whole country is a swamp, the water oozes up in the fields at the very foot

walls, and the Roman galleys lay moored in the port of Classis within bow-shot range. The sea is far off now, and the rice-grounds stretch away level and flat where the waves broke. Classis has disappeared, and has left no sign; the hungry morasses have swallowed every stone and vestige, and the ancient church of St. Apollinarius alone marks where the place once stood; while, where the galleys anchored, the thick groves of the pine f

s, extending from the floor to a height of about five feet, ran completely round it, and upon the dark-panelled walls were hung a long series of portraits, probably those of the bishop's predecessors in office. Above, the ceiling was divided by a richly-gilt framework into a number of irregular partitions, in which were inserted a fine series of paintings by ancient masters, the subjects of which were not all so strictly Scriptural as might have been expected in the palace of a Church dignitary. The light entered by a very large window at the end of the apartment, the panes of which were of the small diamond pattern. With his back to this window, by the side of a large chair, in which he had apparently been sitting reading when his visitors were announced, stood the Bishop of Ravenna. Although he had returned from mass some quarter of an hour, he still wore a part of the robes in which he had officiated. It is probable that as he expected the ladies who had just entered, and a

me that you were here, and would call upon me after mass. I was indeed glad to hear of your coming. It

t your services to the Church had met the reward so

ved his hand

ch I had so long worked; but it was not for me to oppose my will to that of those who know far better than I can do what is best for our holy Church.

e, which has ended only in defeat, as our letters have told you; and now we hope that you will gran

you send me is very bad. It is bad that the apostate who wrongfully holds Harmer Place is still impenitent, still more bad that he should have determined to will the property which rightfully belongs to th

mistaken, grievously mistaken indeed, and we lament it with tears, while we pray for him

l point of all is wanting? Such a man is but a whited sepulchre. However," he continued, more mildly, "for your sake, my sisters, the Church has been content to wait; for your sake it has forborne to use the power of cursing and anathema wh

was silence for a little, and th

grant us now that we may retire t

occur. You have already, in your brother's present position, a striking instance of the unexpected way in which the events of this world occur, and how little we can foresee the intentions of God. Who can say, therefore, that in time this great wrong may not be rectified, and that the will of your dead brothers, those true children of the Church, may not yet be carried into e

that it is over, as it were, that we would gladly retire to die in peace and quietness. It is eighteen years since we left the convent we had entered, wh

the while; we are so tired-so, so sick of the world. Oh, father, let u

rch cannot bless, it will at least not curse the mistaken one. Every allowance has been and will be made for his youth at the time he forsook the right path, and the strong influences brought to bear upon him; his life has been, as you have testified in your letters, save as to this grievous falling off, an exemplary one; and I trust that, when at last stricken with illness, he will turn back as a wandering sheep to the fold. These, my sisters, are the inducements-a lost soul to be saved, the Church to be strengthened. Not often are such inducements offered. But," and here he raised and hardened his voice, "it is not by inducements only that the Church acts, but by orders and threatenings. Upon you a certain burden has been placed, hard to bear, perhaps, but not beyond your strength. From this task you must not shrink; your private wishes are as nothing in the balance. You have a duty, and would fain escape it to pass your life in t

are; he may survive us bo

r entering a religious house, and remaining there until you shall hear, from the person whom you have informed me has undertaken to let you know what is passing there, that some change has taken place, either in his sentiments

over seeing the property pass away into the hands of others; and I, for my part, seem to feel a presentiment that the time will come before long when we shall be successful. Three times, lately,

the vulgar mock. And now return to your hotel. You shall hear from me in the course of the day; and if, as I believe, you would rather be within reach

ived his blessing, and then returned through