hey are tears of affection, and not of despair. I
shall endeavor to be useful wherever I may abide. Let each of you do all
the spiritual good you can--all the earthly good--all good in its most
enlarged and purest sense. But we must separate--probably, some of us,
forever; and now may the blessing of the Almighty God--of the Father,
Son, and Holy Ghost, rest upon you all, and be with you and abide in
your hearts, now and forever! Amen!"

Having pronounced these words, he covered his face with his two hands
and wept bitterly. There were indeed few dry eyes around him; they knelt
before him, kissed his ring, and prepared to take their departure out of
the cavern.

"My lord," said Reilly, who still entertained apprehensions of the
return of his malady, "if you will permit me I shall share your fate,
whatever it may be. The poor people you allude to are not in a condition
to attend to your wants. Allow me, then, to attend and accompany you in
your retreat."

"My dear friend," said the bishop, clasping his hand, "you are heaping
coals of fire upon my head. I trust you will forgive me, for I knew not
what I did. I shall be glad of your companionship. I fear I still stand
in need of such a friend. Be it so, then," he proceeded--"be it so,
my dear friend; only that I should not wish you to involve yourself in
unnecessary danger on my account."

"Danger, my lord!" replied Reilly; "there is not an individual here
against whom personal malignity has directed the vengeance of the law
with such a bloodthirsty and vindictive spirit as against myself. Why
else am I here? No, I will accompany your lordship, and share your
fate."

It was so determined, and they left the cavern, each to procure some
place of safety for himself.

In the meantime, Sir Robert Whitecraft, having had another interview
with Hennessy, was prevailed upon to get a military party together, and
the cunning reprobate, in order to excite the baronet's vengeance to
a still higher pitch, mentioned a circumstance which he had before
forgotten, to wit, that Reilly, his arch-enemy, was also in the cave.

"But," said Sir Robert, who, as we have already said, was a poltroon and
a coward, "what guarantee can you give me that you are not leading me
into an ambuscade? You know that I am unpopular, and the Papists would
be delighted to have my blood; what guarantee, then, can you give me
that you, are acting by me in good faith?"

"The guarantee of my own life," repli