She had
left her own house and taken refuge at the bishop's. That place had been
defended to the last, and when the infuriated French broke in, all within
its walls had been killed.
Terence was not altogether sorry to hear the news. The woman had been a
party to the cruel imprisonment of Mary. No doubt his cousin would feel
her death, but her grief could not be very deep; and it was, he thought,
just as well for her that her connection with Portugal should be
altogether severed. Her mother might have endeavoured to tempt her to
return there; and although he felt sure that she would not succeed in
this, she might at least have caused some trouble, and it was better that
there should be an end of it. As to the woman herself, she had been in
agreement with the bishop, had been mixed up in his intrigues, and her
death was caused by her misplaced confidence in him. Of course she had not
known that he had left the town, and thought that under his protection she
would be safe in the palace.
"She must have been a bad lot," he said to himself.
"Evidently she did not make her husband happy, and persecuted her
daughter, and I regret her death no more than any other of the ten
thousand people who fell in Oporto."
A few days later he received letters both from his father and Mary. Being
under eighteen he opened the former first.
Pages:
499
500
501
502
503
504
505
506
507
508
509
510
511
512
513
514
515
516
517
518
519
520
521
522
523