conversation with Helen, but found himself firmly and decidedly
repulsed. In point of fact, some of the gentlemen were not in a state
to grace a drawing-room, and in a short time they took their leave and
retired.

CHAPTEE XII.--Sir Robert Meets a Brother Sportsman

--Draws his Nets, but Catches Nothing.

"'Tis conscience that makes cowards of us all," said Shakespeare, with
that wonderful wisdom which enlightens his glorious pages; and, in fact,
Sir Robert Whitecraft, in his own person, fully corroborated the truth
of the poet's apophthegm. The man, besides, was naturally a coward; and
when to this we add the consciousness of his persecutions and cruelties,
and his apprehensions from the revenge of Reilly--the destruction of
whose property, without any authority from Government for the act, he
felt himself guilty of--the reader may understand the nature and extent
of his terrors on his way home. The distance between his own house and
that of his intended father-in-law was about three miles, and there lay
a long space of level road, hedged in, as was then the custom, on both
sides, from behind which hedges an excellent aim could be taken. As Sir
Robert proceeded along this lonely path, his horse stumbled against some
stones that were in his way, or perhaps that had been purposely placed
there. Be that as it may, the baronet fell, and a small man, of compact
size and vigorous frame, was found aiding him to rise. Having helped
him into the saddle, the baronet asked him, with an infirm and alarmed
voice, who he was.

"Why, Sir Robert," he replied, "you must know I am not a Papist, or I
wouldn't be apt to render you any assistance; I am somewhat of your own
kidney--a bit of a priest-hunter, on a small scale. I used to get them
for Captain Smellpriest, but he paid me badly, and as there was great
risk among the bloody Papists, I made up my mind to withdraw out of his
service; but you are a gentleman, Sir Robert, what Captain Smellpriest
is not, and if you want an active and useful enemy to Popery, I am your
man."

"I want such a person, certainly," replied the baronet, who, in
consequence of the badness of the road and the darkness of the night,
was obliged to walk his horse with caution. "By the way," said he, "did
you not hear a noise behind the hedge?"

"I did," replied the other, "but it was the noise of cattle."

"I am not aware," replied Sir Robert, "what the devil cattle can have to
do immediately behi