ure, "when we met in
the west, I was willing to have made a friend of you, but you rejected
the overture. You might, however, even then have seen enough of me to
be assured, that I am not likely to rush too rashly on any desperate
undertaking. As to this which lies before us, my brother Bridgenorth
brings to it the simplicity, though not the harmlessness of the dove,
and I the subtilty of the serpent. He hath the leading of saints who are
moved by the spirit; and I can add to their efforts a powerful body, who
have for their instigators the world, the devil, and the flesh."

"And can you," said Julian, looking at Bridgenorth, "accede to such an
unworthy union?"

"I unite not with them," said Bridgenorth; "but I may not, without
guilt, reject the aid which Providence sends to assist His servants. We
are ourselves few, though determined--Those whose swords come to help
the cutting down of the harvest, must be welcome--When their work is
wrought, they will be converted or scattered.--Have you been at York
Place, brother, with that unstable epicure? We must have his last
resolution, and that within an hour."

Christian looked at Julian, as if his presence prevented him from
returning an answer; upon which Bridgenorth arose, and taking the young
man by the arm, led him out of the apartment, into that in which they
had left his father; assuring him by the way, that determined and
vigilant guards were placed in every different quarter by which escape
could be effected, and that he would do well to persuade his father to
remain a quiet prisoner for a few hours.

Julian returned him no answer, and Bridgenorth presently retired,
leaving him alone with his father and Hudson. To their questions he
could only briefly reply, that he feared they were trepanned, since they
were in the house with at least two hundred fanatics, completely armed,
and apparently prepared for desperate enterprise. Their own want of arms
precluded the possibility of open violence; and however unpleasant it
might be to remain in such a condition, it seemed difficult, from the
strength of the fastenings at doors and windows, to attempt any secret
escape without instantaneous detection.

The valiant dwarf alone nursed hopes, with which he in vain endeavoured
to inspire his companions in affliction. "The fair one, whose eyes," he
said, "were like the twin stars of Leda"--for the little man was a great
admirer of lofty language--"had not invited him, the mos