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arninig ~sr and Catholic Messengoer.
W OgLEAs8, sVanT. S-PTBrR -so l577. aity of pofessing his faith publioly before me, espeolall when he could do it in soch a way as not to involve the lives and liberties of other Catholics. The Squire ordered his steeds to be saddled, m1d, monnting the old priest on a quiet nag, pewuae d with him to Westwood, acoompa nied by two of his own servants and Wilkins, the rest of the sheriff's men having previously departed, after exacting a promise from their earade to yield them a share of the antici. pated reward. CHAPTER wIt. Before the Jstices at Westwood. A certain rivalry had insensibly grown up between Dora's two most fervent admirers who bad alternately succeeded in obtaining her smiles, but towards both of whom she in ,reality felt the most supreme indifference. If the troth were known Gervase's sudden and unexpected departure had been a great blow to the lively coquette, but she strove to con oeal it from herself and fancied she had die guised the slightest traces of disappointment from all around her. Lady Pakington was, nevertheless, too shrewd an observer to be de elved by the girl's affcted unconcern, and read her thoughts as plainly as if they had been written in black and white. During the evening's diversions the dark-eyed beauty had sought to bury her secret mortification in an unwonted effusion of hilarity, laughing and talking in an excited strain. She danced and lirted with Bromley, Vernon, and the rest bu whe ett oer of the aspirants to her go graces presumed lioon her favors, she gave him some unexpected rebuff, or turned to his re apectiverival as if toshow how little she valued his regard. "That girl is an arrant lirt," said the grave young Oxford divine to Dame Dorothy, as he .. satbb her side watchlng the games. " You are hard on her, my friend," replied her ladyship. "You men know little of our sex and judge us harshly. I'll tell you a secret; she is only hiding her disappointment at her cousin's disdain." And if Master George llickes onuld have followed her to her bower when she retired for the night, he would have acknowledged the truth of Lady Pakington's comment. As soon as her maid had left the chamber, and she could no longer give vent to her eont up feel logs by the low of words, she sat down by the embers of the hearth arnd subbed she scarce knew why. On the morrow, Sir John had made arrange ments to entertain his guests with his favorite 4 sport of faloonry, and as the day was unusually bright for the season, they looked forward with pleasure to the then somewhat old fashioned diversion. The falconer with his perch and hooded birds stood in front of the principal porch of the mansion, while grooms were leading about the coursers, awaiting the coming of the baronet and his friends. Most of the gentlemen were standing on the steps and Sir John himself was only tarrying for the ladies, to mount his steed. Dora had effaced all traces of her midnight regrets from I her brow, and looked as lovely as usual in her I riding attire. When she cameinto the saloon, I decked for the day's amusement, Dame Doro. thy oongratulated the girl upon her looks, ob. I serving jocosely : 1 "Oh, if that stupid cousin of yours could I but have seen you so bright and cheerful de spite his absence, be might have thought twice before he turned his back upon so fair a priael Those men never know when they have cast away apriceless treasure. I have no patienoe with him for preferring that Papist wench to such a pretty cousin." She saw at once, however, that her words bad evoked the truth from Dora's eyes. The I maiden turned aside with an unmistakeable . expression of pain. "Come, come, my child," she continued, t " there are better prizes for you than a senti mental cousin. We women are too prood to i let them know we care for those who have the s effrontery to slight us." This recalled Dora to herself, and in an in. stant she had concealed every trace of mo mentary weakness. "I don't know why yon think he slightel me, dear Lady Dorothy ." she returned. '" 'I like my cousin well enough, but there bath never been no,re than a cousinly s ff.otion be tween us." As she said this shbe toaned with a slight show of impatience toward the door whioh two of the other lady sqnstriatue were then entering. " We must go down and see the start," quoth her ladyship to Master George Ilickes and others whrbo were watching the gathering from the oriel window. "There is a fresh arrivall" replied the di vine, "some visitors come inopportunely to see Sir John doubtless, for they have not the air of neighbors bent on falconry." Lady Pakington approached the casement and instantly cried: "Why, Dora, here is your fisher come a.josticing, I'll be bound; for he is not decked for sport. That old gentleman beside him hath the air of a recusant or some thino of the kind." A tew minutes later a servant appeared and announced that Sir John was detained, and had adjourned the sport for an hour. "What is this business, Ralph, which keep eth thy master? Hath Master Townshend brought a Popish recusant ?" etq sired Dame Dorothy. " Some'at o' that, my lady," returned the do mestic, "for they be down in the hall, as if to hold a trial on the gentleman that Master Justice Townshend hath brought along with him." "Your father moust stay and dine with us, Dora, but you will not be able to speak with him until the business is over. Tell, me, Ralph, whether they be alone in the ball, or if all the gentlemen are there as well t" "All the household pretty nigh be gathered round them a looking at this Papist priest, for they say it is he as bath been Massing round these parts a many years and bath been ta'en at last." "Doubtless your cousin Oervaso's friend," quoth her laildyabip in an arch whisper to Do ra. "Come down and let us see the poor old man and bear.what ie hath to say." The ladees, aooodepanied by Master George Hickes, all adjourned down stairs to the ehall, which they found converted into a court of justice. Behind a raised table at the dais sat the Baronet, whose stately bearing well fitted him for the office of judge. We have already deserlbed his bhale and manly aspect. His aquiline nose and handsome features were set uff to advantage by his full-bottomed pernqne, and yet witbhal, despite a certain dignstled hanteur repelling'nndue familiarity, there was a courteous urbanity in hise manner toward the asoosed which preposessed the latter in his favor. By his side sat Mr. Townabend, whose ap pearance presented a very decided contrast to that of his fellow-jastico. His manner was more bloffand hearty than Sir John's, and his boahomie too frank to fit him for a courtier, but yet he possessed that species of oourtesy which is the genuine ontome of good nature. In front of these two Justices on the opposite sideof the table stood the aoonused Although a priest and a religions, his dress did not betray the faot, and be might, for ought the greater part of the speutators knew to the contrary, have been a recnsant of noble lineage, for his manners and appearance wonuld have titted him for a courtier in Lewis XIV.'s court. Below the dais were gathered all the mem bers of tbhe honsehold and a throng of strangers from onll'de, for the tidings of the arrest had already been spread far and wide by Wlkions and the bSheritff's men, and numbers of country folk had followed Mr. Townshend to West wood, to witness the termination of the pro oeedings. When Lody Pakington desoended Into the hall, the crowd opened a way for her to approaeh the dais, and the gentemen offer ed them their chairs on the right side of the raised platform, while they took their stand behind them to watch the eveht. Sir John may have noted an ezpesuion of commiseration in the eye of Dame Dorothy as sbe gazed upon the elderly gentleman before him, whioh indooed him to make a sign to one of his attendants to offer him a seat. Father Joachim aeospted the boon with gratitude, bowing his thanks to the baronet. "I underetand from my brother.Jostice," said Sir John, as soon ae the acoonsed wee seat ed, "that you are here to anewer certain charges touching your loyalty. May I ask you, sir, your profession and antecedents f" "I am a gentleman," replied the Minorite, "sufficiently well-known for these last twenty years in Woroestershire, to all sorts of people." "And your calling?" enquired the baronet. ''None; if you intend thereby my trade," rejoined the Francisoan. " What estate are you possessed oft" asked the former. " I am not a landed man," returned the reli gions. "At all events I trust you will consont to take the oaths." observed the Jostice. "I do not understand them," said Father Joachim. '" Will you take them sir, or will you not '" retorted Sir John with a slight movement of impatience. " If you will please to let me see them, I will return you my answer," replied the priest, who felt that in order to make public declaration of his faith, he ought to state his objections to the substance of the oaths, so as to clearly manifest that it was for his religion and not for his loyalty that he was about to sutter con demnation. " Here are the oaths," said Sir John, fumb ling through a volume before him, "and, re. member air, that if you take them honestly, as every loyal Englishman Is bound to do, you shall be free as air. No good subject can, I'll vouch for it, denjur to such terms as these." A sort of factotum, who ocaesionally acted as clerk and amanuensis to Sir Johno, and was seated to the left of the table, took up the book and brought it round to the Father. "Suffer me to read it privately, Sir John," said the minorite, "before I swear to what this page contains " "Nay," quoth Mr.Townshend, "read it aloud that we my hear." "If I were to do that in this public place be fore all these householders and strangers," observed the old man calmly, "I should fear lest those who heard me might think I was swearing to what I read, and so might go ftrth and report that they had heard uie take the oaths before the Justices." "They will not think that," returned Sir John, "bit do as you please, so as you swear to them in the end." Father Jiachim then attentively perused the oaths of supremacy and objuration together with the Declaration, placed before him. Ite connedthem over two or three times, to the manifest impatience of the audience. On passing to her seat near Lady Pakington, Dora had only slightly bowed in answer to her father's nod of recognition. The latter profited by this interval to step across and greet both her hostess and herself, and briefly to inform his daughter that her mother was anxiously I awaiting her return to Elmley. As he hastiiy , returned to his place, the Franciscan quietly laid down the volume upon the table and said in a loud clear voice: " God save the King." All eyes were fixed upon him, and before Sir I John could ask him whether he was prepared to swear to the oaths, he continued " 1 am ready to swear as followeth: That I ever all my lifetime have been, and now am, e and ever will be to my last breath, as faithful a subject to the King as any subject whatso- f ever, as faithful as if I should take the oaths now offered by your worships to me, an hun dred times over; but as for taking these oaths I which you have offered me, I could not take them, whatever I may have to suder, and the reason is, because I understand what an oath t is, and the conditions wh;ch God hath pre a scribed to each of us, before any one can law- a folly call as to witness in taking of any snouc oaths." " I do not understand you," quoth Sir John. What conditions do you allude tot" " The conditious which God has prescribed,' pursued the ruinorite, are those: ThIou ebalt swear as the Lord liveth, in tuotlh, and in judg ment, and in righteousness, saith the Prophet Jeremias; so that in every oath, the life of God the judgment of God and His righteousness are ilunloed; and the oaths we take must puos sees these conditions of truth, Judgment, and righteousness. Therefore, if I should take these oaths, which are concerning damnable dootrines and heresies, I must call God to witness that I no more believe Him to be a living and true God, a just and righteous God, than I be lieve these things contained in the oaths to be tree, just, and righteous, which I do not nor cannot in my conscience believe to be so. For, before I (or any man else) can apprehend the contents of these oaths to be true, so as to call God to witness that I believe them to be true, just, and righteous, I moust be able to dis tinquish between what is of faith and what is heretical in their contents, and I most fully know the nature and extent in all cases of the power which God bhath left to temporal princes, and I moust also understand the full extent in all cases of that species of spiritual power which God bath left in IlHis Church in or over the Christian kingdoms of temporal monarchs, which power in the oaths.am called upon to acknowledge on the one hand and forswear on the other. I confess, gentlemen, that I have neither the capacity nor knowledge requisite to set the confines to each powe-, nor to doe termine or define the extent given by God to all in this nature, so as to swear and call Gou to witness tht. I am as sure of it as that He is a living God, which I must do if I take these oaths-theextont of which I do not understand in my conscience so as to believe them. Tnero fore, gentlemen, I cannot and will not swear to them." "Then, sirrah, you refuse to take the oaths l" said Sir John. "I do!" replied the father. "It is useless to prolong this sitting," re turned the baronet. "You and I, Mr. Towne heand, may as well retire and make out the mittitas upon this distinct refusal." Thereupon the two Justices rose and quitted the hall, followed by the clerk. The acused closed the book which lay before him, and bending down his eyes remained perfectly im passive, save a slight movement of his lips as If he were absorbed in prayer, The audience commenoed conveyilog, at first in whispers, but gradually in louder tones, ono til at length they appeared totally to have for gotten the presenoe of the prisoner or the oo oasino upon which they were assembled. " You are not going to leave us, Mistress Towunhend ?" quoth Master Vernon, who had overheard her father's speecoh. "Lady Puaking ham must porsuade your father to suffer you to stay." "Yea truly," quoth Dame Dorothy, "we oan not afford to lose you, Dora. It were indeed a shabby visit to have paid us, and you your self will be moped to death at Elmley." " I most indeed go home with father," re plied the girl, "for mother donbtlesa needs my servioes-and I daresay my coks and hens will be half dead for lack of feedingt, with no one but poor mother and Sally Deans to tend them." This oanused a laugh at her expense. " You are quite right." said Dame Dorothy, pleased at hor simple speech. "But neverthe less I shall greeve to lose you, and would glad ly wring the necks of all your cocks and hens to keep you. Perhape some of these gentle men will be very jealous of your fowls and wish themselves in their place, Mistress D ,ra." " With all my heart," cried Will Bromley "I would I were oneof your happy birds to be fed and tended by there pretty hands. Come, Mistress Townshend, I beeech you take pity on us, and stay at least two or three days longer !" "For shamel" said Mistres Eyre is a low voice "What wiU that good man think of I you if be overhears your flirtations ? He will think we Pretestants have no sence of I decency," she said in a half laughiog yet half chiding tone. Meanwhile Master George HBlkes looked ill Sat ease, for be misliked the minorite having had the whole say to himself in. a matter whioh seemed to entrench upon the divine rights of kinges, and yet he could not well, at snch a time and place, give vent to hib feelings. "Is this," hbe whispered to Dame Dorothy, a "the priest, think you, who subverted the faith of our young friend ?" " I have been thinking whether it be the same," she replied, "and am pretty sure be is the very man. If so, to say the truth I scarcely wonder at his having gained such in fluence over him, for he is a fine old reonsant, recalling to mind St. Franeis, or some of those old friars of foreign cllmes. I only wish we I had time on our side." "He is stubborn in his faith," returned Hackes drily. " I fear your words would be wasted on him," rejoined her ladyship, " or I would urge you to hold an argument with him." "Not before this assemblage 1" observed the clergyman. "Nay, least you should be worsted by nobh f an experienooed athlete," quoth Dame Dorothy sarcastically. I George bit his lip, but ere he could reply, > the Justices returned. "Prisoner," said Sir John on reaching his i seat, "you are clearly guilty of reeusancy, and r what is more. we suspect you to be a priest in I the Orders of the Church of Rome, and, there fore, upon your--dlllUc-Te a o a e e oaths whihob we have lawfully tendered you, we sentence you to take your trial at Worces ter, and with this mittimus, send you as a t prisoner to Worcester Castle, there to appear Sbefore the Justices of the Shire at the next Quarterly Sessions of the Peace." No sooner had be uttered these words, than I there was an attempt at a cheer on the part of some of the servants and retainers at the lower end of the hall. S"ilence," cried Sir John. "Let-the con 'stables proceed with their prisoner to Wor aI ester nomolested, and let all here present re tire quietly and orderly without disturbance or breaoh of the peace." Father Joachim had risen to receive his sen tence, and ua soon as it was pronounced, lie bowed his head, muttering, "God's holy will be done," and then turning to the constables, who had come up to him, made a sign that he was ready to obey their behests, and almost immediately walked .between them to the outer door of the hall, where they put band cuffs on his wrists and, mounting him on his steed, conducted him between them to Wor certer Castle. !'What think you of that specimon of our Worcestershire recusants " quoth Sir John, turning to the young Oxford divine, as soon as the prisoner had left the hall. "I was wondering how your worships came to blink the question of his Orders, and did not even seek to sift his name and antecedents," returned Hiokes. "Purposely I" rejoined the baronet. "We 1 Justices are not wont to act the part of inqus. itors and sift a man's faith. Our business was simply to tender the oaths. 'Twill be for the Justices at sessions to determine whether hebe sent to trial as a Popish priest, and besides, we have not sufficient evidence of his identity at present to risk failure on that score. All we wanted was to place him safe in limbo, and sive time to get up evidence for his conviction. You must own, my friend, that he is a fine specimen of a stubborn recusant." "For my part,' observed Dame Dorothy, " I cannot but pity the old man,and would gladly have heard him yield that point of casuistry and take the oath, for hbe is loyal at heart to his King and conotry. and hath a noble, manly aspect, and right courteous withal." " It is the way with them all," retorted Jos tie Tlownshend. "Their urbanity of manner stands them in the place of true godliness, snue their soul-destroying righteousness com prehendeth not the nothingness of good works and the simple dependence upon Christ's merits only. This speech of the worthy Justice was a throwing down of the gauntlet to Master Hickes and Dame Dorothy, who looked at each other in dismay. " I beg leave to differ with your worship." quoth the Anglican divine, with a sneer. "With all deference to your superior knowledge of the law of the land, I think I may presume, as a olergyman of the Church of England, to call your theology in question. What you have just said savoureth rather of the Conventicle than the Chubrch, and hath a smack of the Covenant about it. We of the Church of England hold, with the Apostle St. James, "that even as the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without works is dead also." " Rank Arminianism, which your own l Luther hath condemned," rejoined the Justice in a huffed tone. 'We, like Paul, account a t man to be justified by faith, without the works of the law; and I'll vouch for it Richard Baxter was as seund a divine as any in the Established Church." "Come, come, friend Townshend." said Sir John, familiarly touching his shoulder, "yon had better not sonud the 'drum ecolesiastic,' or rwe shall end by an affray like that where Trnlla won the day. Why, how come you to have changed your colors since the days we lay together at the Callege in Worcester, and heard the last orthodox service before the e crop eared rebels took it from us? Your own s diary of the siege, which you were wont to write so deftly when you were fresh front the Inns of Court, would, I'll vouch for it, tell a against your new-fangled trimming ways, if it were put into print." "By my fay, Sir John," he returned in a soft Set-d tone, "I am not a whit less loyal to the SKang ti,'n I was when we were within gun-fir. of Old Noll, and scampered out of Martin's gat in rear of His Majesty : but some of you cava liers went far ahead of me after the Restor tion. for I was always a Protestant to the back bene." Dame Dorothy took advantage of his better humor to plead ina a soothing tone for a pro longation of Dora's visit, but the only conces sionu she obtained was a permissiou that she I should return to Elmley on the morrow in her I ladyship's coach. lie agreed nevertheless to I remain fo! dinner. He had anticipated meeting his nephew at Westwood, and had ever oontemplated the pos sibility of a scene of reoognition between be tween Gervase anud his prisoner. It was pro - bably with a sense of relief rather thkn of dig - appointment that be discovered that he had - taken his departure to his kinsfolk in Derby shire. CHAPLrER xxII. The Cloud with a Silrer Lining. O'd Mistress Fanhob was some time in recover ing from the state of alarm into which she had - been thrown by the uproarious scene of confuo sion which had disturbed the nsnal quiet of Rushock Court. As soon uas her terrified hand. maidens had revived from their hysterics, they were able to ascertain the amount of damage y that had been done throughout the house, Swhtere they found panels broken in, doors torn Soff their hinges, and various other silgns of I ruthless devastation and havoc. How all this was to be repaired, with an empty exchequer, was more than the old spinster lady could divine. In bher helpless perplexity she invoked the counsels of the factotoum, to whom the readrr has already been introduced, and he at once set off to Harviugtton to report the 'disas ter to Dame Mary Tate. That lady speedily d rode over with some attendoants, and after wit nessing he hopeless oondition of the mansion, I persuaded her neighbor to return on a pillion Sto her abode and remain with her until they t, could commuonicate with Sqjire Finch. n Old John Addis, for snob was the oowherd's Sname, started off with the letter Gervase had Ssearch of bis master, wherever he might be. He first went to Hodington, and thence on the i morrow to Wollasubll, on Bredon Hill, where he learnt that the Squire and hie daughter were likely to be found. As be passed by I Hamptoh Lovet. be met gn acqualntaooe who had come from Westwood (having witnessed the scene described in our last obhapter). and told him bow Master Johnson had been sent off a prisoner to Worcester Castle. Clara and her father had quitted Dame Wyn tour's house soon after Father Joachim's depar ture, and had ridden by Pershore to Wollashall, where they were hospitbly received by Squire Francis Hanford and his ldy. Squilre Hanford and Finch had been com rades in arms during the civil wars, and bad always beeh on terms of the utmost familiarit. Squire Hanford's wife, Elizabeth, was a daugh ter of Walter Gifford of Chillinolton, and bad been a beauty in her youth. Their only son, named Walter after his maternal grandfather, was at that time staying at Chbillington with his grandaire, so that the old people were alone. Mistress Hanford had not seen Clara for some time, and was struck by the pensive look upon her countenance and the pallor of her cheeks, but attributed the latter to the fatigue of her long ride. Both she and her spouse had ob tained some inkling of the unfortunate cond' tlion of Mr. Finoh's affairs, bat the latter felt a deliosoy in broaching the subject to his host, as be knew that, like most of the Catholic gentry of the period, he was himself hampered with pecuniary difficulties. On the very day of their arrival, Mr. Hanfor, was visited by a neighboring yoemao, who came to tell him that he bad seen Mr. Finch passing through Pershore on his road thither, and that be eeemed it neighborly to inform him that Sheriff Dowdeewell had issued a writ for bis apprehension for debt, and that for the considerable sum of £5000. " My dear friend," said Hanford, when be had called Francis Finch aside into his study, "I am far from being a rich man; indeed at the present moment I am sorely pressed with embarrassments arising from the exactions to which we Catholics are all subjected; but if you can show me how to befriend you, you may rest assured that I will do my utmost to relieve vyo. I know that you are so far oven worse off than myself, that the sheriff hath issued a writ for your atpreben-ion, and that you etand in hourly peril of your liberty," " Is it so I know that 1 am hopelessly in volved with RLgers, but I was not aware that be htad actually obtained a writ for my ap,ire hensioln." T'e renpon his host reported to him what he had justb heard, and Mr. Finob, after thanking hint for the information, declared that, rather than be a borthen to his Catholic neighbors he would allow the law to take its course. " Nay, my good friend, if it were only for Clara's sake, you should keep out of prison," qooh Hantford. "Five tuousand pounds is alas! more than I can muster; but if your other friends will help, I will lend you one or two thousand. Suppose you leave Clara here, and go cff to Hornyold and Russell, and our friends in Herefordshire. and see if you can borrow the remainder from them. You may thas tide over your present craits. Meanwhile, if you desire it, I will see the sheriff, and inform him of your intention to pay the amount forth with." Accordingly the Squire of Rushock left his daughter at Wollasnull, and rode off before dawn through Upton to Blackmore and Little Malvern, and thence on the following day into Herefordshire. Clara found a .truly sympathizing friend in her hostess, to whom she insensibly opened her heart, relieving herself of the weight which pressed upon it. " I could save him by a word, and shall I re fuse it?" she said, after Mistress Hanford bad drawn from her the narrative of Edward 3 gers' addresses, and the history of nil that had transpired to the time of his nootnrnal visit to Hodington. " What, marry that wretobh, to save your father from a temporary diffloulty You would be shortening his life by buoc an ill-advised step, my dear child, as well as rauini'g your own. 'Tell me more about this Mr. Saclievorill you named anon T I am sure you like him, Clara." She sighed, and perbaps blushed, f.,r Dame Elizabeth teen seemed iustinctively to read her heart, and to,ok her hand in hers. " He is still a Prcotestaot, you said, I think?" " God knows," sne returned in a faltering voice. "And yet, having prayed so hard that he may seethe light, 1 cannot but believe It may have dawned upon him." " 'ixed marriages are, as a rule, to be de plored, no doubt," returned the dame : " but there may be exceptions." "No, no, dear madam; do not speak of it." "And yet you love him, Clara. I am sure you do.' " " He knows that I could never wed him at the sacritice of my faith, and I believe he would nonor me the more for keeping true to it." 'Then has songht your hand T" "Yes." " And you-did not quite refuse him ?" " No; but Itold him this-that I could never marry a heretic." " lie knoweth you love him I" Clara was silent, but her friend feat a tear drop upon her hand, and only said: "God bless you, darling; and may HI. bring I about this happ, consummation in his own s good time and way !" On the following morning they walked up Bredon Hill to the old ruined Chapel of St. D Catharine of Wollashull, and as the day was I clear and genial, they sat them down beneath t the ivy-mantled arches and talked again about the past few weeks of Clara's life. " I wish your friend Mr. Saoheverill would a suddenly appear here," said Mistress Hanford, " for I am sere that between us we could smooth matters for your father." J.jst at that moment, as if in conflrmat.on of i the time honored proverb, a domnestic from the mansion came in hot haste to inform ther, that a man had jest arrived from Roshock in search r of Squire Finch. and had brought some letters, which he handed to Clara. Her father had commissioned her to open any missive that e might coae0 for him, and to act for the best in r any emergency that preqpnted itself in his o absence; therefore she did not scruple to road the two epistles from Dame Yate and Gervase I Sacheverill. "' Heavens! 'Tis worse than all I had ever dreampt!" cried Clara in a tone of despair. "They have not only siought to arrest my father, but have captured my dear old Father i Joachim and taken him to prison. His life is as g >od as forfeited" bne banded Dame Yate's letter to her friend, but the other she read again and again, and when the dame looked up she saw the girl in tears. The servant, who had retired while they d were reading the letters, now came forward and said: if "The man is waiting to see Mistress Finch, Ssince the ,liulre be gone, for he says he wants y to tind his master, and he hath also mnuch to e say, as he cannot tell to any but herself and Sthe Sqnire. I made bald to give him a taste n of our perry and a snack of victnuals, for he ha f walked a snore o' miles since dawn." a " q~uite right," returned the lady; "and r, mind you give him a hearty meal of the best d you have. We will follow you down by the d time he hath finished his dinner, and Mistress e Finch will hear what he hath to say." t "And your other letter. Clara?" enquired the dame when the domestic had retired, and y after carefully surveying her features, for she Swas a good phystognomlst. " Methinks there , is no clond without a silver lining." S"And yet the clout is a very black one," y Clara said. "You have not answered my questlan. Per 's bape the letter is too private for mile ear. If d so, pray paion my Soaieh inludi#tin n." 'e_. wt tel ._ ~ adt E. ward Rogers that the sheriffs men came to Rushook to arrest my father," returned the girl evasively. " Ad yesterday." replied her hostess, "you questioned whether you ought not to accept his hand-the hand of a man who hath at the same blow disgraced your sire andueat that holy priest to the gallows I" "May God forgive me," cried Clara, unable to restrain her tears, "for Gervase is a Catho le I" "A Cathalieo " "Yes; the last act of my dearly-beloved direotor was to reconcile him to the Church. And now he writes to oeer forthwith to pay11y father's debt, and is gone to procure the sam required to solve It." "You most allow there is a silver lining to this coal-black oloud, dear Clara." "And Father Joachim will suffer martyr dom." rejoined Clara bitterly. "You are not-like the Christians of th6 Cata combs," replied the dame, "for they were full of joy when any of their priests or brethren were hsrried off to death, and cartes nine among them ever courted martyrdom more eag~'rly than Father Fall!" *"'he gain is his, ond the los ours ; but 'tis forsooth a heavy loss, a terrible calamity.. I will go and see him in his prison. There is still a hope. They may not prove his priest hood. and if so they dare not infliot death upon him." 1" Let us return and hear what the messenger bath to say," said the dame. "for perobance he bringeth later tidin a er." ned down the hill. Clara's step was more elastic than her wont of late, and it was evident to her companion .that de spite the overwhelming nature of the tidings a balm had been distilled into her soul which, unacknowledged by herself, compensated her in a great degree for her sorrows. "The Justices ha' sent him to Worcester Castle," quoth old Addle to his young mistress when he came to confer with her, " and he ha' been there since yesterday, God bltes him! I know'd it would be so. I said as much to my good wife as soon as this 'ere Plot was noised about. I know'd he was too good for 'em to keep their hands off him; dear gentleman, he is a saint, if any be in heaven I" And the tears ran down his cheeks as he spoke- "Almighty God knows what will become of us without him. The rest's a trifli to it, though, by'r Lady, ttey battered about the old house ter. ribly. and did more damage than a hundred pounds will make good again, sy, and pretty near frightened the old lany's life out of her to boot. But she is safely housed at Harvington, and now my only fearis for master-for if these sheriffs men get hold of him, they'll clap him into prison, and being a reonsant, God knoweth if he'll ever get out again." " What do you purpose doing, Addie t" en quired Clara, after listening to his story. " I means to go after master, and dud him wherever he be, if you will suffer me to follow him." he replied. "Bit yon cannot walk on foot so many miles." "Lady, I'd walk to the world's end to save him from prison, dear gentleman; by'r Lady, I would-and ask no better." " I wish you would mount my steed and ride after him. You would treat her well, and lose less time in finding him." "God bless you, Mistress Clara," he returned gratefully. " I'd do the job in half the time most like, and I'd go as carefully as I could." " You must proceed to Squire Hornyold's at Blackmore, and thence, if he be not there, to Squire BRosels, at Little Malvern, where 'tis likely you may find him. If not, they will forward you on his wake toward Hereford. I will writes letter which you shall convey with these you brought me." She then retired to her chamber and, after perosing Gervase's epistle several times, and even pressing it to her lips, she wrote a long missive to her father, in which she almost orgedhim to accept Saoheverill's generous offer, rather than borrow money from others. When she had written it she was on the point of tearing it up, and was even preparing to carry her intention into execution, when Dame Hanford tapped at her door and asked her if her letters were ready, for that the messenger was impatient to start, as he should otherwise be belated in his journey. Ashamed to confess her hesitation she folded up her letter, enclos ing all three in the tgme packet, which when se,,led she handed rtofer friend. That night she'felt that, ste had sealed her fate, and as she prayed befoe tihe crucifix in the oratory for the good old priest who weeas languishing in Worcester Castle, she likewise prayed for him whoem she already almost re garded as her own betrothed one. ITo be Continued. I BOOTS AND SHOES-HATS. J. D. CRASSONS, CD CD 26............ Frenchbmen Street ............26 ant6 77 ly WEW ORLEANs. pONTCHARTRAIN CHEAP STORE. J. A. LACROIX, Corner L'renchman and Victory Streets. LADIES'. GENTS'. MISSES' AND CHILDREN'S BOOTS AND SHOES Of all descriptions. Always on band o fu!l assortment of first-class goods at pricesl which defy oompettion. alla and examine my stock before purchasing else. where. MY MOTTO "Quick eales and small profits." Jackson Railroad cars pass in front of the store. spte77 ly JOHN FRIEL, Fashionable Hatter, 54............ St. Charles Street..........54 Two doors from the corner of travier, 2m'977IV WSEW OULraW. UNDERTAKERS. FRANK JOHNSON, Undertaker, 205 and 207.... Magazine Street....205 and 267 New Orleans. All kinds of Metallic Cases and Caskels. Basswood, Mahogany and Plain Collins. mhl877 ly Chae. o. Jones, John G. Roche. (formerly with Frank Johnson.) JONES & ROCBE, r50 and 259 Magazine Street, near Delord, UNDERTAKER8 AND EMBA.LMBRS. All business entrst d to the firm will receive prompt and careful attention at moderate rates. CARRIAGES TO HIRE. a2877 ly JOHN F. MARKEY, (Successor to Thomas Markey,) UNDERTAKER, 40, 42 and 44...Claiborne Street...40, 42 and 44 Between Common and Palmyra streets. Patent Metallic Burial Cases, Mahogan, Bhaok Wainnt and Plain (Cofine always on hand. i FUNERALS attended to by the Proprietor in person who hopes, b strict attention to busness,,to obtain a shreof pnonbliO patronage. UAroIIAGE FOR HIRE. J55 77 ly SIEEr WAX AND PAPERS. The beat brands of Sheet Wax In different colors and sis. Flower uotter. Leaf Moolds, Paints and Birnshee. All shade of French Tissne Paper, OSamped Flower s in boxes, Stames and Wires, Glass Sades COenille Bouqet Paer, and a large assortment of Florist's supplles, by R. MAITe, Jyo 3m sW Mgsuias strat. A NEW EDITION or MITCHELL'S GE'O GR APHY, wrra VEW MAPiS, NEW DRESBBS, NEW TYPE, AND NEW ILLUSTRATIONS. THE OLD SERIES COMPRISES Three Books, COSTING $3 10; THE NEW SERIES COMPRISES Two Books, COSTING ONLY $1 90; VIZ; New Primary retails at - - - - $0 61 New Intermediate retails at - - - $1 30 The new tooks can be used In the same classes with the old Primary and Intermedlateo and while they retail at but little over half the cost of the Old Beees, their text exually fall and reliable. The beauty of the new maps is nnsurpseaed, and their fullness ai accuracy exceed even that of the old series. BECOMMENDATIONS : From BRi Grae., e Meet Je. ArcAihop of Toerert Cawoad. We hereby approve of itchell'e Geographies, u revised by M. R. Keegan, Esq., and earnestly robm mend their use in our smboole. t JOtN JOSEPH LYNCH, Archbtihop of Toronto. Given at St. Mlchael's Palace, Toronto, AprilI, 187,. From His GOra, f Most RBe. Arehdehiop qf Nw Zlei. Nsw TYOK, July II, 181, We cheerfully concnr in the excellent recommeade tions already given by many in favor of Mitchell' Geographies, as revised and corrected by Mr. M. I. Keegan, of Chicago. i JOHN McCLOSKEY, A robbilhop of New York. From Bi Gross, as Most Re.. ArcMiah.p qf Oesided, Ohio. CrnecnaTrr, ato,. July 9I, 11871. Am Mitchell's Geographie are s bighly approved l by the most eminen Catholic edneatos of thecentrty, we reoommend their use in all our schoele in prefer ence to any other text-bocke on the subject. JuEN B. PUCZLL, .&rohbishop of Cincianati. From te Right BRe. Bishop .f Rishmend, Tiyimia. RIcauoxD, VA.. Marohb 168478 Wecheerfully concur in the exellent recommem tlone already given by many in favor of Mitchel Geographies, as revised and corrected by M. R. Keegls, of Chicago. t J LME GIBBONS, Bishop of Richmond. From the Xarerian BroMers. BALrlnoao, Mareh 16, 1876. The Xverian Brothera have been using Mlitohesll' Geographies since 154 in their schools. Tale, I think, i. the beet recommendation I ean give of them. BiUtir ER JOIEPHE They have received similar reoommendatlons from the Jesalts, Christian Brothers, Redemptorists, Frisa ciacans, eta, etc., and are used in the leading inaltao tions of the country. Hen. Newton Bateman, Superintendent of PubliO Inlstruction of the State of IllInois for over treanty years, sayes Mitohabell's Intermediate, in atlas form Is absolutely the bet eobool book ot which I have any knowledgPe and I oonsider it. in particular a •positive senJ to our educational institutions. 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