been in will influence your future life; and that this severe
trial will not be thrown away upon you."

"I trust not, Sir," replied I. "I feel that it has been good for me
to have been afflicted. I believe that I have been indebted to your
exertions for my deliverance."

"No further than having seen your letter duly and speedily delivered.
I could do no more, for with all will, I have no power; and that was
little to do for one who so generously assisted our friends in their
distress."

"Am I then to believe that I am indebted to the interest of a French
lady, residing at the court of Versailles, for my deliverance?"

"Even so--this may appear strange to you, Captain Elrington, but such
is the case. Understand, that in these troubled times, the ruling
monarch of this country cannot distinguish his friends from his
enemies. He can only trust to professions, and they are not always
sincere. There are many in the council at this time, who, if the
Pretender, as he is called, had succeeded, would long before this have
joined him, and who had wished him success, although they dared not
venture to assist him. The interest of the lady in question with these
people has prevailed over the true adherents of the Hanoverian king,
and thus through this lady have you obtained your release. I state
this to you in confidence; to publish what I have told you would be to
betray your friends. Can I be of any further service to you? for you
can leave your prison as soon as you please."

"None, I thank you, good Sir," replied I; "I have money more than
sufficient to reward my gaoler, and to defray my expenses to
Liverpool."

"You have my best thanks and sincere wishes for your happiness. Then I
will not intrude upon you any more, except to give you my address in
case of need. You have made warm friends by your conduct, and if you
ever require their assistance, it will not be withheld."

The priest gave his address upon a piece of paper, and then came to
me.

"Our creeds are not exactly the same, but you will not, my son, refuse
my blessing?" said he, putting his hand upon my head.

"Oh, no," said I, dropping on my knees, "I receive it all in
thankfulness."

"May God bless you, my son," said he, with emotion--and he then
quitted the cell.

What with the previous excitement when my liberation was announced,
and the parting with the kind priest, my feelings were so powerful,
that, as soon as I was alone, I gave vent to them in a