ards the river, upholding him over
the rough ground, and saying in short phrases: "Fear nothing from
us, holy Father; we are friends. We have come to save you. Trust
only to us and, believe me, in three more minutes we shall be
beyond the reach of these savage pursuers. The river is before us,
though we see it not, and our boat awaits us there. Once aboard,
they may weary themselves in their vain efforts to catch us; they
will never find us in this fog.

"Here is the water side. Have a care how you step--Jacob, hold fast
the craft whilst the Father steps in. So. All is well; cast off and
I will follow."

There was the sound of a light spring; the boat gave a slight
lurch, and then, gliding off into the mysterious darkness of the
great river, was lost to sight of shore in the wreaths of foggy
vapour.

"Where is the hound? where is the caitiff miscreant? Has he thrown
himself into the river? Drowning is too good for such a dog as he!"
shouted angry voices on the river's bank, and through the still air
the sound of trampling footsteps could be heard up and down the
little wharf which formed the landing stage.

"I hear the sound of oars!" shouted one.

"He has escaped us--curse the cunning of that Papist brood!" yelled
another.

"Let us get a boat and follow," counselled a third; but this was
more easily said than done, as there was no other boat tied up at
that landing stage, and the fog rendered navigation too difficult
and dangerous to be lightly attempted. With sullen growls and many
curses the mob seemed to break up and disperse; but the leaders
appeared to stand in discussion for some moments after the rest had
gone, and several sentences were distinctly heard by those in the
boat, who thought it safer to drift with the tide awhile close to
the shore than to use their oars and betray their close proximity
to their foes.

"We shall know him again; and if he dares to show his face in the
city, we will have him at last, even if we have to search for him
in Alsatia with a band of soldiers. He has too long escaped the
doom he merits, the plotter and schemer, the vile dog of a seminary
priest! Once let us get him into our hands and he shall be hanged,
drawn, and quartered, like those six of his fellows. No mercy for
the Jesuits; it is not fit that such fellows should camber the
earth. There will be no peace for this realm till we have destroyed
them root and branch."

The boat had now drifted too far for the co