alternative is simply this--either marriage or
hanging!"

"Be it so; in that case I will die like a man of honor and a true
Christian and Catholic, as I hope I am."

"As a true fool, Reilly--as a true fool. I took this step privately,
out of respect for your character. See how many of your creed become
Protestants for the sake of mere property; think how many of them join
our Church for the purpose of ousting their own fathers and relatives
from their estates; and what is it all, on their parts, but the
consequence of an enlightened judgment that shows them the errors of
their old creed, and the truth of ours? I think, Reilly, you are loose
about the brains."

"That may be, sir, but you will never find me loose about my
principles."

"Are you aware, sir, that Helen is to appear against you as an
evidence?"

"No, sir, I am not, neither do I believe it. But now, sir, I beg you to
terminate this useless and unpleasant interview. I can look into my
own conscience with satisfaction, and am prepared for the worst. If
the scaffold is to be my fate, I cannot but remember that many a noble
spirit has closed the cares of an unhappy life upon it. I wish you
good-day, Mr. Folliard."

"By the Boyne! you are the most obstinate blockhead that ever lived; but
I've done; I did all in my power to save you--yet to no purpose. Upon my
soul, I'll come to your execution."

"And if you do, you will see me die like a man and a gentleman; may I
humbly add, like a Christian!"

The squire, on his way home, kept up a long, low whistle, broken only
by occasional soliloquies, in which Reilly's want of common-sense, and
neglect not only of his temporal interests, but of his life itself, were
the prevailing sentiments. He regretted his want of success, which he
imputed altogether to Reilly's obstinacy, instead of his integrity,
firmness, and honor.

This train of reflection threw him into one of those capricious fits of
resentment so peculiar to his unsteady temper, and as he went along he
kept lashing himself up into a red heat of indignation and vengeance
against that unfortunate gentleman. After dinner that day he felt
somewhat puzzled as to whether he ought to communicate to his daughter
the result of his interview with Reilly or not. Upon consideration,
however, he deemed it more prudent to avoid the subject altogether,
for he felt apprehensive that, however she might approve of her lover's
conduct, the knowledge of his fate, which d