ain
Avenel"--for by this name he had introduced himself--seldom visited
the house by day, and there was always a certain amount of implied
rather than actual caution in his movements, which seemed to the girl
odd, as nothing else in his manner could be deemed in the least
mysterious.

On one of those evenings, which Elinor now looked forward to with some
pleasure, she and "Captain Avenel" sat together in a little room of
Fawkes' dwelling.

"And didst say thou hadst intelligence of my father?" inquired she,
eagerly.

"This very morning," answered the man, "did I receive a letter brought
by packet from Calais, and in the note he wished me to make known his
safe arrival; further, that he would by the next mail write thee,
telling all about his travels. Now thou canst set thy mind at rest
concerning him, for France in our time offers but few dangers, though
in truth I think thy sire hath the look of one to whom peril would be
a diversion."

"England doth offer more dangers than France," answered the girl, who
was now abstractedly gazing into the fire.

Garnet turned a swift glance in her direction. The words awakened in
the priest that feeling of apprehension which had ever been present in
his mind since his arrival in London, but until now it had not been
called forth by word or deed of hers. On the contrary, in her society
the Jesuit felt for some reason, probably the innocence and loveliness
of the girl, a sensation of rest and security that enabled him to
throw off the dread of detection which so constantly possessed him.
But he turned and inquired in a quiet tone:

"And dost deem England such a dangerous country?"

"Nay," replied Elinor, hesitatingly, "England doth seem all peace and
quietude, but----" here she stopped, fearing the man might read what
lay hidden in her heart, for he was regarding her with a look of
surprise as he noted her embarrassment.

"Come, my daughter," said he kindly, his gentle heart touched by the
fear written on her face, "I have suspected long that some matter did
trouble thee. If I have power to lend aid, consider my whitening hair,
and hesitate not to confide in me, who am old enough to enjoy the
blessing of being called father by thee."

Elinor looked into the benevolent countenance.

"Fear not," he continued in a persuasive voice, "if I can counsel
thee, thy wish for help is granted ere 'tis asked."

She raised her head and met a look of gentle sympathy long unknown to
he