s in their nature. Monteagle!" he repeated with fine scorn.
"And marry, that would be a pretty name for thee to choose--a name
that hath done more to set aside our Holy Catholic Church than all the
fiends in hell. What I know is true," he exclaimed, seizing her by the
arm. "Hark to what I say to thee; even I have heard, for ill fame
flies with swallow's wings swiftly across the sea, and when I am done,
if thou still dost love, pray to the Madonna to stop the beating of a
heart that holds so unworthy a regard. Thou sayest the son saved thy
life--by what means I know not. Think you that doth make amends for
all the evil done by him and his? Enough of this, and listen," he
continued, mastering his anger and pacing up and down the room.
"Monteagle and his son, both Catholics, and until James Stuart reached
the throne, most valiant champions of their faith, have, since the
scepter reached the hands of that wise fool, endeavored by all the
foul means within their power, to defeat the efforts of their fellow
churchmen, which, as thou knowest--and all England as well--were
directed against those laws which meant the downfall of our church.
Did these hell hounds come boldly out and show a lusty fight--which
would, in a small degree, have recommended them? Nay, that is not the
nature of the serpent. They falsely affirm themselves most strong
adherents to the Pope, receive the confidences of the Papal Delegates,
and by treasonable use of this knowledge of their secret mission,
defeat them ere they strike a blow. Is it for truth that they are
against the faith? Not so; for the hypocrites do cross themselves and
bow before the Host. Is it for a principle that they act thus? Nay,
for they have none. What, then, is their object? It is to gain favor
with the King, and place themselves by underhanded, sneaking ways
where true merit ne'er could raise them. Ah, my daughter," he cried,
with a voice full of supplication, "I love thee much too well to cause
thy heart a single pang. Canst thou not see it all aright? And even if
for love of me thou wilt not pluck this passion from thy heart, then
do it for the love thou owest God."

While her father had been speaking, the girl stood motionless, every
line on her face showing plainly the conflict raging within her
breast. Her eyes were dry, for there are griefs so deep and searing
that they, with their fiery tongues, do lick up the springing tears
before they can fall. It was not in her nature