an the last consolations of religion.

On reaching the parsonage, Fergus handed the portfolio to its owner, and
withdrew to seek shelter in some of his usual haunts for the night; but
Mr. Brown, aided by his wife, who sat up for him, contrived that Reilly
should be conducted to a private room, without the knowledge of the
servants, who were sent as soon as possible to bed. Before Reilly
withdrew, however, that night, he requested Mr. Brown to take charge of
his money and family papers, which the latter did, assuring him that
they should be forthcoming whenever he thought proper to call for them.
Mr. Brown had, not been seriously hurt, and was able in a day or two to
pay the usual attention to the discharge of his duties.

Reilly, having been told where to find his bedroom, retired with
confidence to rest. Yet we can scarcely term it rest, after considering
the tumultuous and disagreeable events of the evening. He began
to ponder upon the life of persecution to which Miss Folliard must
necessarily be exposed, in consequence of her father's impetuous and
fiery temper; and, indeed, the fact was, that he felt this reflection
infinitely more bitter than any that touched himself. In these
affectionate calculations of her domestic persecution he was a good
deal mistaken, however, Sir Robert Whitecraft had now gained a complete
ascendancy over the disposition and passions of her father. The latter,
like many another country squire--especially of that day--when his word
and will were law to his tenants and dependants, was a very great man
indeed, when dealing with them. He could bluster and threaten, and even
carry his threats into execution with a confident swagger that had more
of magisterial pride and the pomp of property in it, than a sense of
either light or justice. But, on the other hand, let him meet a man of
his own rank, who cared nothing about his authority as a magistrate, or
his assumption as a man of large landed property, and he was nothing but
a poor weak-minded tool in his hands. So far our description is correct;
but when such a knave as Sir Robert Whitecraft came in his way--a knave
at once calculating, deceitful, plausible, and cunning--why, our worthy
old squire, who thought himself a second Solomon, might be taken by the
nose and led round the whole barony.

There is no doubt that he had sapiently laid down his plans--to harass
and persecute his daughter into a marriage with Sir Robert, and would
have pro