n the infallibility of the pope?"

"I believe no such doctrine."

"Then there can be no doubt that you are a true Protestant."

"I am," Louder answered with no small degree of pride.

"So much the better."

The stranger dismounted from his horse and slipped his left hand through
the rein, allowing the tired beast to graze, while with his right hand
he began searching in his pockets for something.

"Would you have a Catholic king?" he asked while searching his pockets.

"No."

"You prefer a Protestant."

"I do."

"I knew it," and he continued, "King Charles is nearing his end. But a
few months more must see the last of this monarch, and then we will
have another. The great question which appeals to the heart of every
Englishman to-day is, shall it be a Protestant or a Catholic?"

"A Protestant!" cried John Louder, in his bigoted enthusiasm.

"Then, John Louder, it behooves the English people to speak their minds
at once, lest they have fastened upon them a monarch who will wrench
from them their religious liberties."

Louder was wondering what the man could mean when the stranger suddenly
took from his pocket a book. It was a book with a red back, as could be
seen from the fire-light. The stranger drew from another pocket a pen
and an ink horn and, in a voice which was solemn and impressive, said:

"Sign!"

John Louder was astonished at the request, or command, whichever it
might be, and mechanically stretched out his hand to take the book. At
this moment the camp-fire suddenly flamed up, and he afterward averred
that the face of the stranger was suddenly changed to that of a devil,
and from his burning orbs there issued blue jets of flame, while the
whole air was permeated with sulphur. With a yell of horror, he started
back, crying:

"Take it away! take away your book! I will not sign! I will not sign!"

"Sign it, and I promise you a Protestant king."

"Away! begone! The whole armor of God be between me and you."

[Illustration: Seizing a firebrand, he searched for the print of a
cloven hoof.]

Quaking with superstitious dread, Louder sank down upon the ground and
buried his face in his hands. For several minutes he remained thus
trembling with fear, and when he finally recovered sufficiently to raise
his eyes, the stranger was gone.

He and his horse had vanished, and John Louder, seizing a firebrand,
searched the ground for the print of a cloven foot. He found it and,
snatching up his rifle