on a bare rock, when the One who
hung in the midst could have saved Himself at the cost of the glory of
the Father and the everlasting bliss of His Church. And from that cross
a voice seemed to whisper to her--"If any man serve Me, let him follow
Me."

"Verily, I am loth you should have your pain for nought," said she, "but
indeed I cannot come with you, though I do thank you with all my heart.
I am set here in ward of mine uncle, and for me to 'scape away would
cause penalty to fall on him. I cannot save myself at his cost. And
should not the Papists take it to mean that I had not the courage to
stand to that which they demanded of me? Nay, Father Purcas, this will
I not do, for so should I lose my crown, and dim the glory of my
Christ."

"Bessy!" cried her aunt from the kitchen, "do come within and shut the
door, maid! Here's the wind a-blowing in till I'm nigh feared o' losing
my ears, and all the lace like to go up the chimney, while thou tarriest
chatting yonder. What gossip hast thou there? Canst thou not bring her
in?"

"Bessy, _come_!" whispered Purcas earnestly.

But Elizabeth shook her head. "The Lord bless you! I dare not." And
she shut the door, knowing that by so doing, she virtually shut it upon
life and happiness--that is, happiness in this life. Elizabeth went
quietly back to the kitchen, and took up an iron. She scarcely knew
what she was ironing, nor how she answered her cousin Dorothy's rather
sarcastic observations upon the interesting conversation which she
seemed to have had. A few minutes later her eldest cousin, a married
woman, who lived in a neighbouring street, lifted the latch and came in.

"Good even, Mother!" said she. "Well, Doll, and Jenny! So thou gave in
at last, Bess? I'm fain for thee. It's no good fighting against a
stone wall."

"What dost thou mean, Chrissy?"

"What mean I? Why, didn't thou give in? Lots o' folks is saying so.
Set thy name, they say, to a paper that thou'd yield to the Pope, and be
obedient in all things. I hope it were true."

"True! that I yielded to the Pope, and promised to obey him!" cried
Elizabeth in fiery indignation. "It's not true, Christian Meynell!
Tell every soul so that asks thee! I'll die before I do it. Where be
the Commissioners?"

"Thank the saints, they've done their sitting," said Mrs Meynell,
laughing: "or I do believe this foolish maid should run right into the
lion's den. Mother, lock her up to-morrow, won