man, will you let my chaise be brought
round?--How _can_ they help it?" continued he, standing up over the
fire; "their Catholic principles lead them on, and there's nothing to
drive them back."

"Why should not their love for their own Church?" asked Bateman; "it is
deplorable, unpardonable."

"They will keep going one after another, as they ripen," said Campbell.

"Did you hear the report--I did not think much of it myself," said
Reding,--"that Smith was moving?"

"Not impossible," answered Campbell thoughtfully.

"Impossible, quite impossible," cried Bateman; "such a triumph to the
enemy; I'll not believe it till I see it."

"_Not_ impossible," repeated Campbell, as he buttoned and fitted his
great-coat about him; "he has shifted his ground." His carriage was
announced. "Mr. Reding, I believe I can take you part of your way, if
you will accept of a seat in my pony-chaise." Charles accepted the
offer; and Bateman was soon deserted by his two guests.

CHAPTER XVII.

Campbell put Charles down about half-way between Melford and his home.
It was bright moonlight; and, after thanking his new friend for the
lift, he bounded over the stile at the side of the road, and was at once
buried in the shade of the copse along which his path lay. Soon he came
in sight of a tall wooden Cross, which, in better days, had been a
religious emblem, but had served in latter times to mark the boundary
between two contiguous parishes. The moon was behind him, and the sacred
symbol rose awfully in the pale sky, overhanging a pool, which was still
venerated in the neighbourhood for its reported miraculous virtue.
Charles, to his surprise, saw distinctly a man kneeling on the little
mound out of which the Cross grew; nay, heard him, for his shoulders
were bare, and he was using the discipline upon them, while he repeated
what appeared to be some form of devotion. Charles stopped, unwilling to
interrupt, yet not knowing how to pass; but the stranger had caught the
sound of feet, and in a few seconds vanished from his view. He was
overcome with a sudden emotion, which he could not control. "O happy
times," he cried, "when faith was one! O blessed penitent, whoever you
are, who know what to believe, and how to gain pardon, and can begin
where others end! Here am I, in my twenty-third year, uncertain about
everything, because I have nothing to trust." He drew near to the Cross,
took off his hat, knelt down and kissed the wood, and p