in consoling his widow, as you say. Good-morning!"

We must return, however, to the close of Smellpriest's very sudden and
premature departure from the scene of his cruel and merciless labors.
Having reached the strip already described to him by Mr. Strong, and to
which he was guided by his men, he himself having been too far advanced
in liquor to make out his way with any kind of certainty, he proceeded,
still under their direction, to the cottage adjoining, which was
immediately surrounded by the troopers. After knocking at the door with
violence, and demanding instant admittance, under the threat of smashing
it in, and burning the house as a harbor for rebellious priests,
the door was immediately opened by a gray-headed old man, feeble and
decrepit in appearance, but yet without any manifestation of terror
either in his voice or features. He held a candle in his hand, and asked
them, in a calm, composed voice, what it was they wanted, and why they
thus came to disturb him and his family at such an unseasonable hour.

"Why, you treasonable old scoundrel," shouted Smellpriest, "haven't
you got a rebel and recusant Popish priest in the house? I say, you
gray-headed old villain, turn him out on the instant, or, if you
hesitate but half a minute, well make a bonfire of you, him, the house,
and all that's in it. Zounds, I don't see why I shouldn't burn a house
as well as Whitecraft. That cursed baronet is getting ahead of me, but
I think I am entitled to a bonfire as well as he is. Shall we burn the
house?" he added, addressing his men.

"I think you had better not, captain," replied the principal of them;
"recollect there are new regulations now. It wouldn't be safe, and might
only end in hanging every man of us--yourself among the rest."

"But why doesn't the old rebel produce the priest?" asked their leader.
"Come here, sirra--hear me--produce that lurking priest immediately."

"I don't exactly understand you, captain," replied the old man, who
appeared to know Smellpriest right well. "I don't think it's to my house
you should come to look for a priest."

"Why not, you villain? I have been directed here, and told that I would
find my game under your roof."

"In the first place," replied the old man, with a firm and intrepid
voice, "I am no villain; and in the next, I say, that if any man
directed you to this house in quest of a priest, he must have purposely
sent you upon a fool's errand. I am a Protestant, Capta