he lieutenant came he was one I had never seen before, nor he me;
and he too asked me what I wanted with Mr. Chiffinch.

"Lord, man!" I cried, for I was weary with my journey, and a little
impatient. "Do you think I shall blurt out private business for all the
world to hear? Send me under guard if you will--a man on each side--so
you send me."

He did not do that (for I think he thought that I might be some
important personage from my way with him), but he would not let James
come in too; and he said a man must go with me to show me the way.

"Or I, him," I said. "However; let it be so;" and I told James to ride
on to the lodgings, and make all ready for me there.

Now I had heard in France of the events in the kingdom; but as they had
not greatly affected Catholics, and, if anything, had even helped them,
I was in no great state of mind. Within a week of my getting to Paris
the news came of how the Duke of Monmouth had been sent with an army to
Scotland and had trounced the Highlanders (who prayed and preached when
they should have fought) at Bothwell Bridge on the river Clyde; and of
the punishment he inflicted on them afterwards; though this was nothing
to what Dr. Sharpe (who had been killed by them in May) or Lauderdale
would have done to them. Of Catholic fortunes there was not a great
deal of bad news, and some good: Sir George Wakeman, with three
Benedictines, was acquitted of any design to murder the King; and Mr.
Kerne, a priest, had been acquitted at Hereford of the charge under 27
Elizabeth--that famous statute, still in force, that forbade any priest
that had received Orders beyond the seas, to reside in England. On the
other hand, in the provinces, a few had suffered; of whom I remember, on
the Feast of the Assumption a Franciscan named Johnson, a man of family,
had been condemned at Worcester; and Mr. Will Plessington at Chester:
and these were executed. Since then, no deaths that I had heard of, had
taken place in England for such causes: and affairs seemed pretty quiet.

I was all unprepared then for the news I had from Mr. Chiffinch, as soon
as he had greeted me, and paid me compliments on the way I had done my
French business.

"You are come just in time," he said ruefully. "We are to have a great
to-do to-morrow, I hear."

I asked him what that might be, lolling in my chair, for I was stiff
with riding.

"Why it is your old friend Dangerfield, I hear, who is the thorn in our
pillow now. He h