ce."

Having no principle himself, the Bishop was unable to comprehend its
existence in other people. Mr Bastian was a shade wiser--not that he
possessed much principle, but that he could realise the fact of its
existence.

"There is one other point, holy Father," said he, seeing that the Bishop
was about to dismiss him, "whereon, if it stand with your Lordship's
pleasure, I would humbly seek your counsel."

The Bishop rubbed his hands, and desired Mr Bastian to proceed. The
labour which the heretics gave him was very well to complain of, but to
him the excitement of discovering a new heretic was as pleasurable as
the unearthing of a fox to a keen sportsman. Dick of Dover, having no
distinct religious convictions, was not more actuated by personal enmity
to the persecuted heretic than the sportsman to the persecuted fox.
They both liked the run, the excitement, the risks, and the glory of the
sport.

"To tell truth, my Lord," continued Mr Bastian, dropping his voice, "I
am concerned touching a certain parishioner of mine, a gentleman, I am
sorry to say, of name and ancient family, cousin unto Mr Roberts of
Glassenbury, whose name you well know as one of the oldest houses in
Kent."

The Bishop nodded assent.

"'Tis true, during King Edward's time, he went for one of the new
learning; but he conformed when the Queen came in, and ever sithence
have I regarded him as a good Catholic enough, till of late, when I am
fallen to doubt it, to my great concern." And Mr Bastian proceeded to
relate to the Bishop all that he knew respecting the flight of the
ladies, and his subsequent unsatisfactory interview with the heads of
the family. The Bishop listened intently.

"This young maid," said he, when the narrative was finished, "what said
you was her name--Gertrude?--this Gertrude, then, you account of as
faithful to holy Church?"

"She hath ever been regular at mass and confession, my Lord, and
performeth all her duties well enough. For other matter, methinks, she
is somewhat light-minded, and one that should cast more thought to the
colour of her sleeves than to the length of her prayers."

"None the worse for that," said Dick of Dover--adding hastily, as the
unclerical character of his remark struck him--"for this purpose, of
course, I signify; for this purpose. Make you a decoy of her, Brother,
to catch the other."

"I cry your Lordship mercy, but I scarce take you. Her father and aunt
do come to confession