risis, and, if possible, to get
under sail, before the enemy hears of our success, and makes his
escape."

"Yes," said De Valette, "and before our friends have time to change
their minds, and withdraw the promised assistance."

"Why do you suggest such an idea?" asked La Tour, his brow darkening
with displeasure; "by heavens, they dare not provoke me by so gross an
act of treachery!"

"I do not think they intend it," returned De Valette; "but you know
there is a powerful opposition to our interest in this good town, and if
any of their worthy _teachers_ should chance to hit upon a text of
scripture which they could interpret against us,--farewell to the
expected aid! Nay," he added, laughing, "I believe there are already
some, who fancy they see the cloven foot of popery beneath our plain
exterior, and, if that should once shew itself, why, they would as soon
fight for the devil, to whom they might think us very closely allied."

"You forget, Eustace," said La Tour, lowering his voice, and looking
cautiously around, "that we stand on open ground, and a bird of the air
may carry our secrets to some of these long-eared, canting hypocrites!
but go now, muster your volunteers as soon as possible, and our sails
once spread to a fair wind, their scruples will avail them little."

The apprehensions of De Valette were not without foundation, and his
keen observation had detected symptoms of retraction in some who were at
first most forward in their proffers of service. The decision of the
magistrates had been very generally condemned by the graver part of the
community; its advocates were principally found among the young and
enterprising, who gladly embraced any opportunity to signalize their
courage and activity. With these, Arthur Stanhope was conspicuous for
his zeal and perseverance, though he had many difficulties to contend
against, arising from the inveterate prejudices of his father.

"It is a cause, in which we have no lot or portion," said the elder
Stanhope, in reply to his son's arguments; "neither is it right that we
should draw upon ourselves the vengeance of M. d'Aulney, by
strengthening the power of a rival, who, perchance, hath no more of
justice, or the king's favor, than himself."

"The public," said Arthur, "is not responsible for the act of a few
individuals; and the evil, if any exists, must fall entirely on our own
heads."

"It is an idle distinction, which the injured party will never
acknowle