fore the eyes of his wife and little children. I cried
out against it in horror. 'There is not a man in the place who could do
such a thing!' I said; but I am beginning to know better now."

A look of anguish crosses the man's face as he listens to her. He is a
gentleman, and his better nature must revolt from crimes like this.

"The man had been warned. If he had held his tongue, no harm would have
come to him."

"And we have been warned," the girl says, with a bitter smile, "and we
have not held our tongues, and therefore harm will come to us."

As the words pass her lips she shivers, remembering Aileen's warnings.
It seems to her that Power's face has grown harsh and cruel, like the
face of a man who is her judge more than her lover.

"Honor, do you want to break my heart? You know how I love you, have
loved you always. Launce hates me--your father has plainly said he will
'never give his only girl to a rebel;' and I am that in his opinion.
But why should they stand between us, my darling? What right has any
man to come between such love as ours?"

"No man can come between us, Power. Have I not given you my plighted
word? But, if my father and brother are in danger, my place is with
them. You see that, don't you?"

The beautiful face is close to his own; he feels the clasp of her soft
hands in his, and suddenly, with a sigh that is almost a groan, he
takes her into his arms and kisses her passionately.

CHAPTER IV.

"Oh, Honor, is it true?" Belle Delorme cries breathlessly, as she meets
her friend midway on the Rectory lawn. "Launce has been telling us--but
sure he laughed so we couldn't believe him--that the old abbot has
begun to walk again."

"It is quite true that people say he has," Honor answers guardedly.

She is pale to-day, and there is a weary look in her eyes that give a
pathetic expression to the whole face.

"And he has really been seen, dear?" exclaims Belle, raising her hands
in dismay. "Oh, but it is dreadful! Sure we never thought such things
could happen in our day."

"What a goose you are!" Launce says, coming up at this moment. "Such
things, as you call them, never happened and never will; it's all a
hoax--some scamps doing it for a lark; and one of these nights when
I've nothing better to do, I'll go down and ferret out the rascal."

"Oh, no, no, Launce, dear! Promise me that you'll do nothing of the
kind," Belle cries in genuine distress. "It would be madness. If the
old abb