“My daughter, I must consult our Superior. Yours is such a serious case, and I beg that you will go into the vestry, by the door behind this box, and wait a few minutes, till I bring you his decision,” said Father Francisco.
I was all of a tremble, my face felt hot with blushes of shame and I longed to hide from observation for a few minutes, so I readily went into the vestry, as he had requested. It was a bare scantily furnished room, with a few chairs, a writing table covered with papers, and some priests’ frocks and vestments hanging round the walls.
Presently the old priest who had accosted me on my first entering the church, came to conduct me to Father Francisco’s room, but instead of that, I found myself in the cell of a convent, with the door locked behind me.
The worst fears assailed my frightened mind; I sank on my knees, calling on God and my husband to release me, crying and stamping in impotent rage by turns; this must have lasted an hour or two. Then a little wicket was opened in the door, and the same old priest told me to calm myself, for Father Francisco and the Superior were praying to the Holy Mother to direct them what penance to impose upon such a sinner, and that I must remain where I was till next day, when, he added, “no doubt you will be restored to your loving husband, as pure in mind and spirit as when you first took your marriage vows.”
I was going to implore him to allay the Earl’s anxiety on my behalf, but he assured me they had sent to his lordship to say that I was doing penance for some hours in their convent, and quickly closed the _guichet_, so that I was again left alone.
Two nuns supplied me with refreshment, made me up a bed on the floor, and I really had nothing to complain of as to treatment that first night, still, something seemed to assure me that I really was a prisoner, and should not so easily get out of the convent. My hope was, that the Earl would speedily insist upon my speedy release, (little dreaming at the moment that he was the instigator of my detention, and had actually acted as confessor in the assumed name of Father Francisco.)
My anxiety was greatly increased the next day, when hour after hour passed, and still no communication from the Confessor or Superior, the nuns who brought me in breakfast and dinner were silent to all my enquiries or offers of bribes if they would help me get out of the place.