there was a difference of religious opinion--the worst
of differences that can exist between husband and wife--. Checkley vowed
her destruction, and he kept his vow. He was enamored of her beauty.
But while he burnt with adulterous desire, he was consumed by fiercest
hate--contending, and yet strangely-reconcilable passions--as you may
have reason, hereafter, to discover."

"Go on," said Luke, grinding his teeth.

"I have done," returned Peter. "From that hour your father's love for
his supposed mistress, and unacknowledged wife, declined; and with his
waning love declined her health. I will not waste words in describing
the catastrophe that awaited her union. It will be enough to say, she
was found one morning a corpse within her bed. Whatever suspicions were
attached to Sir Piers were quieted by Checkley, who distributed gold,
largely and discreetly. The body was embalmed by Barbara Lovel, the
Gipsy Queen."

"My foster-mother!" exclaimed Luke, in a tone of extreme astonishment.

"Ah," replied Peter, "from her you may learn all particulars. You have
now seen what remains of your mother. You are in possession of the
secret of your birth. The path is before you, and if you would arrive at
honor you must pursue it steadily, turning neither to the right nor to
the left. Opposition you will meet at each step. But fresh lights may be
thrown upon this difficult case. It is in vain to hope for Checkley's
evidence, even should the caitiff priest be living. He is himself too
deeply implicated--ha!"

Peter stopped, for at this moment the flame of the candle suddenly
expired, and the speakers were left in total darkness. Something like a
groan followed the conclusion of the sexton's discourse. It was evident
that it proceeded not from his grandson, as an exclamation burst from
him at the same instant. Luke stretched out his arm. A cold hand seemed
to press against his own, communicating a chill like death to his frame.

"Who is between us?" he ejaculated.

"The devil!" cried the sexton, leaping from the coffin-lid with an
agility that did him honor. "Is aught between us?"

"I will discharge my gun. Its flash will light us."

"Do so," hastily rejoined Peter. "But not in this direction."

"Get behind me," cried Luke. And he pulled the trigger.

A blaze of vivid light illumined the darkness. Still nothing was
visible, save the warrior figure, which was seen for a moment, and then
vanished like a ghost. The buck-shot rattl