door.

"I--Asbury Crewne--the new circuit preacher," replied a voice. "I'm wet,
cold and hungry--can you give me shelter, in the name of my Master?"

"Certainly!" cried Matalette, hastening to open the door, while the
three hired men rapidly repocketed their pistols, and Helen gave vent to
a sigh of relief.

They heard a heavy pack thrown on the floor, a hearty greeting from
Matalette, and then they saw in the doorway a tall, straight young man,
whose blue eyes, heavy, closely curling yellow hair and finely cut
features made him extremely handsome, despite a solemn, puritanical look
which not even a driving rain and a cold wind had been able to banish
from his face.

There were many worthy young men in the Bonpas Bottoms, but none of them
were at all so fine-looking as Asbury Crewne; so, at least, Helen seemed
to think, for she looked at him steadily, except when he was looking at
her. Of course, Crewne, being a preacher, took none but a spiritual
interest in young ladies; but where a person's face seems to show forth
the owner's whole soul, as was the case with Helen Matalette's, a
minister of the Gospel is certainly justifiable in looking oft and long
at it--nay, is even grossly culpable if he does not regard it with a
lively and tender interest.

Such seemed to be the young divine's train of reasoning, and his
consequent conclusion, for, from the time he exchanged his dripping
clothing for a suit of Matalette's own, he addressed his conversation
almost entirely to Helen. And Helen, who very seldom met, in the Bonpas
Bottoms, gentlemen of taste and intelligence, seemed to be spending an
unusually agreeable evening, if her radiant and expressive countenance
might be trusted to tell the truth.

When the young preacher, according to the custom of his class and
denomination, at that day, finally turned the course of conversation
toward the one reputed object of his life, it was with a sigh which
indicated, perhaps, how earnestly he regretted that the dominion of
Satan in the world compelled him to withdraw his soul from such pure and
unusual delights as had been his during that evening. And when, after
offering a prayer with the family, Crewne followed Matalette to a
chamber to rest, Helen bade him good-night with a bright smile which
mixed itself up inextricably with his private devotions, his thoughts
and his plans for forthcoming sermons, and seriously curtailed his
night's rest in addition.

In the morning i