hrift, in preaching is my diligence,
And study in Peter's words and in Paul's;
I walk and fish Christian men's souls,
To yield my Lord Jesu his proper rent;
To spread his word is set all mine intent."

"A truly apostolic aim!" Lady Mabel exclaimed, looking triumphantly
round on her old follower.

The descending road here narrowed suddenly, and Moodie reined back his
horse, silent in the sad conviction that Lady Mabel had already got
beyond that half-way house between the region of evangelical purity
and idolatrous Rome.

In the narrow valley, overgrown with shrubs and brushwood at the foot
of the hill, they came suddenly on a large number of swine luxuriating
in the cool waters, or on the shady banks of a brook. The swine
vanished instantly amidst the thickets, though hundreds were still
heard grunting and squealing around them, and the travelers might have
taken them for wild denizens of the wilderness, had not a fierce growl
attracted their attention, and they saw on the opposite bank a man
reclining under a _carob_ tree, one hand resting on the neck of a huge
dog, who yet showed two savage rows of teeth, and fixed his vigilant
and angry eyes on the intruders. The wild air of the master delighted
Lady Mabel, for there was mingled with it a savage dignity as he
stretched his manly form on the wolf-skin spread out under him, and
gazed calmly on the party drawing near. While their horses stopped to
drink at the stream, they observed him narrowly--he receiving this
attention with stoic indifference. A long gun lay on the ground beside
him, and his garments, made chiefly of the dressed skins of animals,
defied brier or thorn.

"Are we on the road to Evora?" L'Isle asked, by way of opening a
parley; but the man merely waved his hand gently toward the hill and
path before them. Resolved to make him speak, L'Isle asked, "What game
have you killed to-day?"--for he saw some animal lying in the moss at
the foot of the tree. The hunter silently held up a lynx and an otter,
which he had lately snared, and seemed to forget the presence of
strangers in contemplating his game. Despairing of extracting a word,
the travelers rode on.

"What a silent, unsocial wretch!" Mrs. Shortridge exclaimed. "He seems
to prefer the company of a savage hound, and his dead game, to that of
living Christians."

"He thinks a heretic no Christian, if he thinks at all," said L'Isle;
and he called to the guide, to ask what this wild ma