"
"And whither do we go?" said the young man; "or what is the object
of our journey?"
The matron stepped back, and gazed on him with surprise, not unmingled
with displeasure.
"To what purpose such a question?" she said; "is it not enough that I
lead the way? Hast thou lived with heretics till thou hast learned to
instal the vanity of thine own private judgment in place of due honour
and obedience?"
"The time," thought Roland Graeme within himself, "is already come,
when I must establish my freedom, or be a willing thrall for ever--I
feel that I must speedily look to it."
She instantly fulfilled his foreboding, by recurring to the theme by
which her thoughts seemed most constantly engrossed, although, when
she pleased, no one could so perfectly disguise her religion.
"Thy beads, my son--hast thou told thy beads?"
Roland Graeme coloured high; he felt the storm was approaching, but
scorned to avert it by a falsehood.
"I have forgotten my rosary," he said, "at the Castle of Avenel."
"Forgotten thy rosary!" she exclaimed; "false both to religion and to
natural duty, hast thou lost what was sent so far, and at such risk, a
token of the truest affection, that should have been, every bead of
it, as dear to thee as thine eyeballs?"
"I am grieved it should have so chanced, mother," replied the youth,
"and much did I value the token, as coming from you. For what remains,
I trust to win gold enough, when I push my way in the world; and till
then, beads of black oak, or a rosary of nuts, must serve the turn.
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