e it: his eye glittered with animation, or rather with
delight, as he broke the seal.

"It was very prudently and correctly done of you, sir, to seal up the
pocket-book; very well done, indeed: and I am much obliged to you
so far, although we must have some conversation upon the matter
immediately--"

"I only did what, as a Catholic clergyman, Sir Thomas, and an honest
man, I conceived to be my duty."

"What--what--what's this?" exclaimed the baronet, his eye blazing with
rage and disappointment. "In the name of hell's fire, sir, what is
this? My money is not all here! There is a note, sir, a one pound note
wanting; a peculiar note, sir; a marked note; for I always put a marked
note among my money, to provide against the contingency of such a
robbery as I sustained. Pray, sir, what has become of that note? I say,
priest, the whole pocket-book ten times multiplied, was not worth a fig
compared with the value I placed upon that note."

"How much did you lose, Sir Thomas?" asked the priest calmly.

"I lost sixty-nine pounds, sir."

"Well, then," continued the other, "would it not be well to see whether
that sum is in the pocket-book. You have not yet reckoned the money."

"The note I speak of was in a separate compartment; in a different fold
of the book; apart from the rest."

"But perhaps it has got among them? Had you not better try, sir?"

"True," replied the other; and with eager and trembling hands he
examined them note by note; but not finding that for which he sought, he
stamped with rage, and dashing the pocket-book, notes and all, against
the floor, he ground his teeth, and approaching the priest with the
white froth of passion rising to his lips, exclaimed, "Hark you, priest,
if you do not produce the missing note, I shall make you bitterly
repent it! You know where it is, sir! You could understand from the
note itself--" He paused, however, for he felt at once that he might be
treading dangerous ground in entering into particulars. "I say, sir," he
proceeded, with a look of menace and fury, "if you refuse to produce the
note I speak of, or to procure it for me, I shall let you know to your
cost what the power of British law can effect."

The priest rose up with dignity, his cheek heightened with that slight
tinge, which a sense of unmerited insult and a consciousness of his own
integrity render natural to man--so long as he is a man.

"Sir Thomas Gourlay," he proceeded, "upon your conduct and want o