ou had levied the fines that day, and who thought it no harm to
transfer them back again to holy Church. You know not how those rascals
can disguise themselves."

"And you blame them, Smellpriest," said the squire, "for disguising
themselves? Now, suppose the tables were turned upon us, that Popery got
the ascendant, and that Papists started upon the same principles against
us that we put in practice against them; suppose that Popish soldiers
were halloed on against our parsons, and all other Protestants
conspicuous for an attachment to their religion, and anxious to put down
the persecution under which we suffered; why, hang it, could you blame
the parsons, when hunted to the death, for disguising themselves? And
if you could not, how can you blame the priests? Would you have the poor
devils walk into your hands and say, 'Come, gentlemen, be good enough
to hang or transport us?' I am anxious, to secure Reilly, and either to
hang or transport him. I would say the latter, though."

"And I the former," observed Sir Robert.

"Well, Bob, that is as may happen; but in the meantime, I say he never
robbed the sheriff here; and if he were going to the gallows to-morrow,
I would maintain it."

Neither the clergyman nor Mr. Hastings took much part in the
conversation; but the eye of the latter was, during the greater portion
of the evening, fixed upon the baronet, like that of a basilisk,
accompanied by a hidden meaning, which it was impossible to penetrate,
but which, nevertheless, had such an effect upon Whitecraft that he
could not help observing it.

"It would seem, Mr. Hastings," said he, "as if you had never seen me
before. Your eye has scarcely been off me during the whole evening. It
is not pleasant, sir, nor scarcely gentlemanly."

"You should feel proud of it, Sir Robert," replied Hastings; "I only
admire you."

"Well, then, I wish you would express your admiration in some other
manner than by staring at me."

"Gadzooks, Sir Robert," said the squire, "don't you know that a cat may
look at a king? Hastings must be a man of devilish good taste, Bob, and
you ought to thank him."

Mr. Brown and Mr. Hastings soon afterwards went upstairs, and left the
other gentlemen to their liquor, which they now began to enjoy with
a more convivial spirit. The old squire's loyalty rose to a very high
pitch, as indeed did that of his companions, all of whom entertained the
same principles, with the exception of Lord Deilmacare,