night, to put the saddle on the back of his famous grey mare, and make his report to Archer of all that had occurred since they had parted.

sincere."-SOUTH.

THE Earl did not go directly from th his friend's mansion, but made a cir the demesne. He did so for two reason give himself time for thought, for ma line of conduct, and for allowing h towards Archer-whom he thought it Н should meet at the house-to cool d secondly, to convey the impression to t the place for he knew not whom he w pect as the spy upon his movements-t come from an opposite direction, and no abbey.

The passions of some men, when sudde by what they consider faithless or bas produce explosions which burn up all fri pacts. They sometimes fire the mines they seek to counteract the treacher enemies, before their own mining and completed. This produces an explosi

VOL. I.

surface, which informs their enemies of their intentions and mode of operations, without injuring them.

Now the Earl was not only a man of truthful impulses, he was also a skilful general, and a man of the world; and, what was better than all this, his love for Miss Cavendish was stronger than his detestation of Archer's wiles. The former was the master-passion of his soul, and kept the other in proper subjection, and gave his intellect time to work, to meet his enemy with his own weapons, those of secrecy and deception. He felt the more confidence in doing so, for in starting, fortune, or accident, had favoured him, by making him acquainted with one of his secret foes; and, to some extent, with his mode of attack; if he might judge from the mention of his cousin, Lady Margaret's name, at which the silent man in the abbey seemed to chuckle with malicious pleasure.

He met Mac Rory near the door of the mansion, who said to him, with much of apparently foolish and natural glee, "Daddy Archer is in! Daddy Archer in there!"

"Father Archer !" said the Earl, with well-feigned surprise, "Dost say so !-when came he ?"

"This is indeed a pleasure," said the bland Jesuit, extending his arms with a smile to the Earl, as he

entered; "I am delighted to see your lordship looking so well. How is the wound ?"

"A thousand thanks, kind father," said the Earl, returning the salutation, "the wound is nearly healed. This is an unexpected pleasure."

"You did not expect to find me at the house, then?" replied Archer, watching the expression of the Earl's face. He first thought the Earl had accompanied Miss Cavendish home, but, when he came to the house, and found he had not been there, the suspicion flashed across his mind, that he might have returned to the abbey, and overheard his conversation with Mac Rory.

"I have but this moment learned of your being here," replied the Earl with ease.

"Are you used to walk so late, after sunset, or have your meditations led you to the old abbey ?" The Earl smiled.

"If so, perhaps like the founder of our order,* who was a wounded soldier like yourself, you may think of joining the ranks of the Church militant."

The cheeks of Miss Cavendish became suf. fused with blushes, as the Jesuit spoke of the "old abbey"; but the Earl, who knew that the churchman intended the remark for him, and not for his

* Ignatius Loyola.

fair companion, replied:-"I possess, Father, neither the mental nor the moral qualities for so high an honour; I was in the abbey to-day, before sunset."

The replies of the Sugane Earl were so simple and unembarrassed, and his manner so devoid of suspicion, as to lead the churchman to conclude, that he had nothing to apprehend, and that his dialogue with the spy had not been overheard; but he determined to be more on his guard for the future.

Mac Rory, on this occasion, had displayed more caution and cunning than Archer, for he never spoke above his breath.

The mind of Archer was of a far higher order than that of his companion, and engaged itself more about the weightier matters of Church and State, and gave less attention to those smaller details of examining corners and crannies, before speaking aloud, at which Mac Rory was au fait. Perhaps he felt this, and therefore chose for a confidant and companion a young man, possessing, to perfection, the close-scenting and sharp prying powers, in which he was deficient. But he imagined he could read the heart of man, and look into all its corners and crannies, and turn it inside-out, with the ease a lady could a kid glove; and hence concluded, that he could not be deceived by so fair and out