rclay put us in bad odour, so that it may
be less easy to procure a pardon than it once would have been. So,
my dear child, I do not think you need be in terror for his life,
even if you are obliged to speak out plainly."

And then the good old man knelt with Anne to pray for pardon,
direction, and firmness, and protection for Charles. She made an
entreaty after they rose that her uncle would take her away--her
presence must be so painful to their kind hosts. He agreed with
her, and made the proposition, but Sir Philip would not hear of it.
Perhaps he was afraid of any change bringing suspicion of the facts,
and he might have his fears of Anne being questioned into dangerous
admissions, besides which, he hoped to keep his poor old wife in
ignorance to the last. So Anne was to remain at Fareham, and after
that one day's seclusion she gathered strength to be with the family
as usual. Poor old Sir Philip treated her with a studied but icy
courtesy which cut her to the heart; but Lady Archfield's hopes of
seeing her son were almost worse, together with her regrets at her
husband's dejection at the situation of his nephew and the family
disgrace. As to little Philip, his curious inquiries about Cousin
Sedley being in jail for murdering Penny Grim had to be summarily
hushed by the assurance that such things were not to be spoken
about. But why did Nana cry when he talked of papa's coming home?

All the neighbourhood was invited to the funeral in Havant
Churchyard, the burial-place of the Oakshotts. Major Oakshott
himself wrote to Dr. Woodford, as having been one of the kindest
friends of his poor son, adding that he could not ask Sir Philip
Archfield, although he knew him to be no partner in the guilt of his
unhappy nephew, who so fully exemplified that Divine justice may be
slow, but is sure.

Dr. Woodford decided on accepting the invitation, not only for
Peregrine's sake, but to see how the land lay. Scarcely anything
remarkable, however, occurred, except that it was painful to
perceive the lightness of the coffin. A funeral sermon was
previously preached by a young Nonconformist minister in his own
chapel, on the text, "Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his
blood be shed;" and then the burial took place, watched by a huge
crowd of people. But just as the procession was starting from the
chapel for the churchyard, over the wall there came a strange peal
of wild laughter.

"Oh, would not the unquiet s