Cedricwouldhaveenquiredfartherintothepurposewhichshethusdarklyannounced，butthesternvoiceofFront-de-Bufwasheard，exclaiming，``Wheretarriesthisloiteringpriest?Bythescallop-shellofCompostella，Iwillmakeamartyrofhim，ifheloitersheretohatchtreasonamongmydomestics！’’
``Whatatrueprophet，’’saidUlrica，``isanevilconscience！Butheedhimnot——outandtothypeople——CryyourSaxononslaught，andletthemsingtheirwar-songofRollo，iftheywill；vengeanceshallbearaburdentoit。’’
Asshethusspoke，shevanishedthroughaprivatedoor，andReginaldFront-de-Bufenteredtheapartment。Cedric，withsomedifficulty，compelledhimselftomakeobeisancetothehaughtyBaron，whoreturnedhiscourtesywithaslightinclinationofthehead。
``Thypenitents，father，havemadealongshrift——itisthebetterforthem，sinceitisthelasttheyshallevermake。Hastthoupreparedthemfordeath?’’
``Ifoundthem，’’saidCedric，insuchFrenchashecouldcommand，``expectingtheworst，fromthemomenttheyknewintowhosepowertheyhadfallen。’’