upplication. It was the first time that my father's voice fell upon my
ear: it was so plaintive, so imbued with wretchedness, that the feeling
of resentment which, I take shame to myself, I had long suffered in my
bosom, melted away at once, and a strange tenderness came over me. I
could have flung myself upon his bosom, and wept. I felt that my
mother's wrongs had been avenged. Even as it was, with all the secrecy
that I had then thought it my interest to preserve, I could not refrain,
in a subdued, yet earnest tone, from responding to his broken
ejaculation, from the very bottom of my heart, "Amen."

A start of surprise and terror, as my hollow response reached the ears
of all then and there assembled, followed my filial indiscretion. Each
looked at the other with a glance that plainly asked, "Was the voice
thine?" and each in reply shook his head.

"A miracle!" exclaimed the priest. "The sinner's supplication has been
heard. Let us pray."

During this solemn scene, events of a very different description were
taking place at the inn which we had just clandestinely left. Our exit
had been noticed. The landlord was called up; he became seriously
alarmed, the more especially when the direction that we had taken had
been ascertained. He immediately concluded that we had gone to Rathelin
Hall to commit a burglary, or perhaps a murder. He summoned to his aid
the constables of the village; called up the magistrate, and the lawyer,
Mr Seabright; and, with a whole posse of attendants, proceeded to the
rescue. We will conduct them to the door that Pigtop and myself had
secured when we barred out Daunton's accomplice, and, there leaving
them, return to the sick-chamber.

After the reverend gentleman had concluded his extempore prayer, but few
of the sentences of which reached our place of concealment, Sir Reginald
said, "My friends, the little business that we have to do to-night had
better be done speedily. I feel unusually depressed. I hope that it is
not the hand of death that is pressing so heavily upon me. I would live
a little while longer--but the will of God, the Redeemer of our sins, be
done! Bring the papers here--I will sign them. My friend Brown, and
you, my poor and too long neglected Ralph (addressing Joshua), I trust
to your integrity in all this matter; for not only am I averse to, but
just now incapable of, business. But, my dear Ralph, before we do this
irrevocable deed, kneel down and rece