interest his narrative seemed to excite in his hearers, it was evident
that his communication was of importance.

Presently, accompanied by Father Ambrose, Mrs. Mowbray returned to the
carriage, while the major, mounting the priest's horse, after bidding a
hasty adieu to his sister, adding, with a look that belied the
consolation intended to be conveyed by his words, that "all was well,"
but without staying to offer her any explanation of the cause of his
sudden departure, rode back the way they had just traversed, and in the
direction of Rookwood. Bereft of the only person to whom she could have
applied for information, though dying with curiosity and anxiety to know
the meaning of this singular interview and of the sudden change of plans
which she felt so intimately concerned herself, Eleanor was constrained
to preserve silence, as, after their entrance into the carriage, her
mother again seemed lost in painful reflection, and heeded her not; and
the father, drawing from his pocket a small volume, appeared intently
occupied in its perusal.

"Dear mother," said Eleanor, at length, turning to Mrs. Mowbray, "my
brother is gone----"

"To Rookwood," said Mrs. Mowbray, in a tone calculated to check further
inquiry; but Eleanor was too anxious to notice it.

"And wherefore, mother?" said she. "May I not be informed?"

"Not as yet, my child--not as yet," replied Mrs. Mowbray. "You will
learn all sufficiently early."

The priest raised his cat-like eyes from the book to watch the effect of
this speech, and dropped them instantly as Eleanor turned towards him.
She had been about to appeal to him, but having witnessed this look, she
relinquished her scarce-formed purpose, and endeavored to divert her
tristful thoughts by gazing through the glimmering medium of her tears
upon the soothing aspect of external nature--that aspect which, in
sunshine or in storm, has ever relief in store for a heart embittered by
the stormy coldness of the world.

The road, meanwhile, led them through a long woody valley, and was now
climbing the sides of a steep hill. They were soon in the vicinity of
the priory, and of the gipsies' encampment. The priest leaned forward,
and whispered something in Mrs. Mowbray's ear, who looked towards the
ruined shrine, part of the mouldering walls being visible from the road.

At the moment the clatter of a horse's hoofs, and the sound of a loud
voice, commanding the postilion, in a menacing tone, to stop