u to do with my
private concerns?"

Reilly's indignant and impetuous reply to the prelate struck all
who heard it with dismay, and also with horror, when they bethought
themselves of the consequences.

"You are a heretic at heart," said the other, knitting his brows; "from
your own language you stand confessed--a heretic."

"I know not," replied Reilly, "by what right or authority you adopt
this ungentlemanly and illiberal conduct towards me; but so long as your
language applies only to myself and my religion, I shall answer you in a
different spirit. In the first place, then, you are grievously mistaken
in supposing me to be a heretic. I am true and faithful to nay creed,
and will live and die in it."

Father Maguire felt relieved, and breathed more freely; a groan was
coming, but it ended in a "hem."

"Before we proceed any farther, sir," said this strange man, "you must
take an oath."

"For what purpose, sir?" inquired Reilly.

"An oath of secrecy as to the existence of this place of our retreat.
There are at present here some of the--" he checked himself, as if
afraid to proceed farther. "In fact, every man who is admitted amongst
us must take the oath."

Reilly looked at him with indignation. "Surely," thought he to himself,
"this man must be mad; his looks are wild, and the fire of insanity
is in his eyes; if not, he is nothing less than an incarnation of
ecclesiastical bigotry and folly. The man must be mad, or worse." At
length he addressed him.

"You doubt my integrity and my honor, then," he replied haughtily.

"We doubt every man until he is bound by his oath."

"You must continue to doubt me, then," replied Reilly; "for, most
assuredly, I will not take it."

"You must take it, sir," said the other, "or you never leave the cavern
which covers you," and his eyes once more blazed as he uttered the
words.

"Gentlemen," said Reiliy, "there appear to be fifteen or sixteen of you
present: may I be permitted to ask why you suffer this unhappy man to be
at large?"

"Will you take the oath, sir?" persisted the insane bishop in a voice of
thunder--"heretic and devil, will you take the oath?"

"Unquestionably not. I will never take any oath that would imply want
of honor in myself. Cease, then, to trouble me with it. I shall not take
it."

This last reply affected the bishop's reason so deeply that he looked
about him strangely, and exclaimed, "We are lost and betrayed. But here
are angels--I see