Page 58 of A Column of Fire
That was true. The Privy Council had to give permission for torture. The rule was often broken, but Kingsbridge people knew their rights. There would be an outcry if Donal was tortured illegally.
‘I can get permission, you young fool.’
‘Then do,’ Donal said in a voice shrill with fear but still determined.
Rollo was downcast to think that they might have to give up. They had done everything possible to scare Donal into a confession, but it had not quite worked. Perhaps Philbert would not be punished after all.
Then Bishop Julius spoke. ‘I think you and I had better have a quiet talk, young Donal,’ he said. ‘But not here. Come with me.’
‘All right,’ said Donal nervously. He was apprehensive, but Rollo guessed he would agree to anything that would get him out of that basement.
Julius escorted Donal out of the Guild Hall. Rollo and Reginald followed a few yards behind. Rollo wondered what the bishop had in mind. Could he save the dignity of the Fitzgerald family after all?
They went down the main street to the cathedral. Julius led them through a small door in the north side of the nave. The choir was singing evensong. The interior of the church was dimly lit by candles that sent dancing shadows across the arches.
Julius picked up a candle, then took Donal into a side chapel with a small altar and a large painting of Christ crucified. He put the candle on the altar so that it lit up the picture. He stood with his back to the altar, and made Donal face him, so that Donal could see Jesus on the cross.
Julius motioned Rollo and Reginald to keep their distance. They remained outside, but they could see into the chapel and hear what was said.
‘I want you to forget about earthly punishments,’ Julius said to Donal. ‘Perhaps you will be tortured, and burned at the stake as a heretic, but that is not what you should be in fear of this evening.’
‘Isn’t it?’ Donal was mystified as well as scared.
‘My son, your soul is in mortal danger. Whatever you said earlier today in the Slaughterhouse doesn’t matter – because God knows the truth. He knows what you have done. The pain you would suffer in hell would be so much worse than anything that could happen to you here on earth.’
‘I know.’
‘But God gives us hope of forgiveness, you know. Always.’
Donal said nothing. Rollo stared at his face in the unsteady candlelight, but could not read his expression.
Julius said: ‘You must tell me three things, Donal. If you do, I will forgive your sins, and so will God. If you lie to me, you will go to hell. That’s the decision you must make, here and now.’
Rollo saw Donal’s head tilt back slightly as he looked at the picture of Jesus.
Julius said: ‘Where do they hold their services? When? And who goes? You must tell me, right now.’
Donal gave a sob. Rollo held his breath.
‘Let’s start with where,’ Julius said.
Donal said nothing.
‘Last chance of forgiveness,’ Julius said. ‘I won’t ask you again. Where?’
Donal said: ‘In Widow Pollard’s cowshed.’
Rollo expelled his breath silently. The secret was out.
Mrs Pollard had a smallholding at the southern edge of the city, on the Shiring road. There were no other houses close by, which would be why the Protestants had not been overheard.
Julius said: ‘And when?’
‘Tonight,’ said Donal. ‘Always on Saturday evening, at twilight.’
‘They creep through the streets in the dusk so that they won’t be noticed,’ Julius said. ‘Men love the darkness rather than the light, because their deeds are evil. But God sees them.’ He glanced up at the pointed arch of the window. ‘It’s almost nightfall. Will they be there now?’
‘Yes.’
