thought he slept. So he did, but he slept the
sleep of death.

Helen had fled up to her room, locked the door, and, with a white,
pallid face, and trembling fingers, took the will from her bosom and
opened it.

"To May--to May--to May--beloved niece--I _knew_ it; but May shall
never have it," she said, through her set teeth, as her eye ran rapidly
over it. "They will think _she_ burned it with those papers. I am
saved--I shall marry Jerrold!" A mouse gnawing in her wainscot near
her, caused her to start up and look around; and _there_, looking down
from the cross, where the sins of the world had hung Him, was the image
of His divine and woeful face. In the flickering light, the drops of
blood appeared to flow from those cruel wounds, and the thorn-crowned
head seemed to droop towards her. With a shuddering cry, she fell
heavily to the floor. But the paroxysm passed away--she remembered her
crime, and, fearful of detection--for already had _conscience_ begun to
scourge her--she flew to her trunk, and touching a spring in the side,
a secret compartment slid back, revealing a narrow interstice between
the body of the trunk and the exterior. In this she dropped the will,
and fastened it securely. _What_ and _who_ instigated her to evil?
Shall any dare say it was religion? She was a Catholic by
birthright--but an alien from the practices of her holy faith by
choice, and through human pride and worldliness--did its spirit lead
her into crime? Judge of its effects by May's humble and earnest life.
_She_ was true and practical in her character, and acted out the
precepts of her faith. Judge it, by the wonderful change it effected
in the harsh and bitter nature of that hoary man, whom it excited to
acts of perfect Christian virtue, and who, full of humble hope, had
just breathed his last.

Who would measure the patriotism and purity of Washington, by the
treason of Arnold? Dare not then, be guilty of the manifest injustice
of judging the Church by the conduct of those, who, although bearing
her sign on their foreheads, become traitors to her holy precepts, and
scandalize her in their lives.

CHAPTER XV.

THE DISCOVERY.

The old man was far down in the shadow of the mountain; the day was
well-nigh spent, when, by the grace of God, he fled into the fold of
Faith for safety; and now, when all was over, the Church, like a loving
mother, more tender of the repentant prodigal, who had fallen at her
feet, a