thoughts towards a republic.
Mess Lethierry might repair his fortune in the United States, even
better than in England. If he desired to invest what remained to him at
great profit, he had only to take shares in the great company for
developing the resources of Texas, which employed more than twenty
thousand negroes.

"I want nothing to do with slavery," said Lethierry.

"Slavery," replied the Reverend Herode, "is an institution recognised by
Scripture. It is written, 'If a man smite his slave, he shall not be
punished, for he is his money.'"

Grace and Douce at the door of the room listened in a sort of ecstacy to
the words of the Reverend Doctor.

The doctor continued. He was, all things considered, as we have said, a
worthy man; and whatever his differences, personal or connected with
caste, with Mess Lethierry, he had come very sincerely to offer him that
spiritual and even temporal aid which he, Doctor Jaquemin Herode,
dispensed.

If Mess Lethierry's fortune had been diminished to that point that he
was unable to take a beneficial part in any speculation, Russian or
American, why should he not obtain some government appointment suited to
him? There were many very respectable places open to him, and the
reverend gentleman was ready to recommend him. The office of
Deputy-Vicomte was just vacant. Mess Lethierry was popular and
respected, and the Reverend Jaquemin Herode, Dean of Guernsey and
Surrogate of the Bishop, would make an effort to obtain for Mess
Lethierry this post. The Deputy-Vicomte is an important officer. He is
present as the representative of His Majesty at the holding of the
Sessions, at the debates of the _Cohue_, and at executions of justice.

Lethierry fixed his eye upon Doctor Herode.

"I don't like hanging," he said.

Doctor Herode, who, up to this point, had pronounced his words with the
same intonation, had now a fit of severity; his tone became slightly
changed.

"Mess Lethierry, the pain of death is of divine ordination. God has
placed the sword in the hands of governors. It is written, 'An eye for
an eye, a tooth for a tooth.'"

The Reverend Ebenezer imperceptibly drew his chair nearer to the
Reverend Doctor and said, so as to be heard only by him:

"What this man says, is dictated to him."

"By whom? By what?" demanded the Reverend Jaquemin Herode, in the same
tone.

The young man replied in a whisper, "By his conscience."

The Reverend Jaquemin Herode felt in his pocket,