bring upon you all that you most fear, now perhaps turned aside."

"Your enigmatical words make me think that I am brought here for other purposes than to withdraw me from shame. You know more. It is certain that you know what is my destiny. Have mercy, then, and take me out of this place, which offers so much to, alarm me. I must trust you, though you declare yourself so base, so mean, as to be the servant of that strange power. You have a heart it cannot be so stifled by obedience as not to tell you what is right and human. Fear not my vehemence, which is stronger in me than I ever felt, for I will try to control myself; and I must trust you, as I wish you would trust yourself. Within a few hours my mind has become weak, and a deadly fear is round me, lest, in this weakness, that should happen which ought not. See," said she gently, and approaching him with timidity," I tremble for the health of my soul. You cannot deny that a different creed to mine is here strictly followed. They will wish to convert me. Even this morning, the fear of this overcame me; but I would die in my sorrow, rather than return to your church."

"Wretched child!" said the priest, more feelingly. "It grieves me to see you in error. Why were you not, from your youth, under the gentle guidance of our church. You would then have found, in every brother in the faith, the relations who have been torn from you. It is the curse of the heretical church, that each man believes the health of his soul preserved only by despising what is holy to another; and when the mind is wearied, as yours is, where is there support in your church. When sinking in the vain baseness o the world, where can you find a safe port in which you can rest? It is in the bosom of our church alone; and you fear this support, even while feeling your loneliness!"

"Your

"Enough, reverend sir!" interrupted Mary quickly. words prove that it is not without cause that I fear to be assailed by the zeal of your faith, while in this house; but that which I profess gives me strength, even now, to oppose all false reasonings. I am born free, and belong to a noble race, although over its name, in my person, a veil is drawn, confounding truth with falsehood. In

accordance with this, I cannot serve unknown men for unknown ends; and if you must leave me, I desire at least to know the rules, that I may come to an open understanding concerning them."

Mary had regained her energy. Her beautiful face was tinged with a slight colour, her slender figure had a royal bearing, and the tone of her voice denoted the feelings of her heart. Father Clement saw this, and for the first time felt how little her fate was likely to be improved by it. But he sympathized with her, and could not overlook her advantages. Yes-even a fear of the power which he served came over him, while he seemed obliged to endeavour to protect her from it. In a more quiet moment, this humane feeling might have left him, and he might have again become the slave of his accepted duty. But the germ of a truly noble disposition lay within him, though it was buried in sophistry; and he replied gently,

Our meeting should not have been thus, and I warn you not to let this spirit be seen; for your nobleness of mind is feared, and, it it were known, you would never be able to leave these walls. Be not so alarmed," said he, softening still more, for he read her terror in the pale face of the noble being: "you shall not have trusted to me in vain. Whilst absent, I can serve you; and I will do so, if you solemnly promise to restrain your bold spirit, to behave prudently, and to avoid those contradictions which may draw angry attention towards you. Then, perhaps, they may think of your freedom, if I give testimony of your want of ability. Yet, enough," added he, evidently vexed: "sympathy makes me talk idly, and I hope you will not misunderstand me. I respect every plan of my superiors, and I warn you to be patient and obedient."

"Oh! do not repent what your humane heart prompted you to say, noble man," cried Mary tenderly. You have said enough. I cannot see the reason of this proceeding, nor its aim, and will, by God's help, guard myself, though I have never learned deceit, but have ever despised it. I will pray to God to enable me to avoid the enemy, for freedom is sweet, and beyond these walls lie so many hopes! Oh, assist me to attain them; and, believe me, this

lovely world, which was God's creation, is not sinful, and that sin alone separates us from God's image."

1!"

Tears flowed over the priest's hand, which Mary held; and so fervently did she speak, that it seemed as if she had tried the work of conversion upon him, and had made greater progress than was compatible with his calling; for although his eyes were fixed on the ground, his expressive features showed his deep emotion. "So let us part," said he, mildly. "God protect you! Mary gently bowed her head, and he touched it for a moment, blessing her. He slowly left the room, and Mary was left not so inconsolable as he had found her, for there was a ray of hope in her heart, to which returned the confidence and strength of youth, and courage to meet adversity.

CHAPTER XXIII.

When Mary awoke on the following morning, her first thought was that Father Clement was far from the castle, and that she was left alone, with what appeared so strange and fearful to her. For a moment her courage failed; but the sound sleep of youth had not refreshed the body in vain, and the soul was also strengthened.

On entering the outer room, in which Miklas had placed her breakfast, Mary received from him a ceremonious invitation to be introduced to the lady of the castle.

"I am ready," replied she, with a slight change of colour. "Tell your lady that I will wait on her at any hour she will appoint, for I know little of the rules of the house."

"Her grace needs a long morning rest," said the old servant, looking upon the ground. "Sister Electa will call you when her ladyship is ready."

After breakfast, Mary looked at the books which her little library contained, and this examination renewed the uneasy feeling that efforts were to be made. in every way, to give that direction to her

mind which alone was permitted in this house. A little edition of the Italian Homer was hidden behind other books, apparently a deviation from the prescribed place which Father Clement allowed. This rejoiced her the more, as she fancied it a token of his good wishes towards her, the only hope she had for the future.

She was interrupted by Sister Electa, whom, remembering the advice of Father Clement, she received with her natural graciousness. Under the same influence she endeavoured to give her dress a graver appearance, which, being mourning, was easily done. She took off her jewels, and concealed her curls under a black velvet cap, which, although quite in accordance with the ruling fashion, gave her costume a simple and grave appearance. Whilst making these arrangements, she tried to gain courage, and to overcome the dread produced by the past occurrences. She resolved to be ex'tremely prudent in her manner, and to watch narrowly all which should transpire in her presence.

Her grave companion conducted her into the entrance-hall, where a wide, ornamented oak staircase led to the upper rooms. The dark wall was hung with pictures, but imperfectly to be seen by the light, sparingly admitted through coloured windows, affording no view of the country around. At the top of the staircase was a curtain of tapestry, which, having been drawn back by a servant, admitted Mary and the sister into a large hall. The damp and dust of this room showed disuse; but on one side was a suite of rooms, hung with velvet and tapestry, and containing pictures from sacred history and the legends of the saints, all well executed. As they approached the last door, Sister Electa, whose rapid progress had left Mary little time to oberve the rooms through which she had passed, whispered gently, that the person whom they were about to visit was styled "venerable lady."

Mary now entered a small dark space, from which a narrow winding staircase led to the rooms above. She at once recollected Margaret's tale of the staircase where the unhappy lord of this castle had died, and the little pointed door, by which they entered, with its wide threshold and deep niches, appeared to have been the death-bed of the unhappy one whom his wife in vain sought to

awaken. Mary paused for a moment, shuddering, while Electa murmured a short prayer, crossed herself, and sprinkled the spot with holy water from a vessel which stood by the door. Mary followed her mechanically through a dark sleeping-room, with melancholy-looking furniture, to a large vaulted rocm, in which burned a clear fire. Daylight dimly penetrated through the narrow gothic windows, and the dark walls were hung with miserable pictures of martyr legends, in still darker frames. At first Mary could not distinguish these; for the sudden transition from the dark sleeping-room to the glare of a large fire, however its light might be lessened by the oaken walls and floor, almost made her blind. When she recovered, she saw, besides the horrible pictures of martyrs, an altar with a prayer-stool and seats, behind which was a painting of the Saviour.

Electa now desired her to come forward; and seated in deep shadow, near the fire, she beheld a female, who, with a hollow dry voice, invited her to approach. Neither the voice, nor the grief-worn appearance of this person, agreed with Mary's recollection of the terrible apparition; for she was attired in a handsome nun's dress, of the most costly material, and which left visible only her hard yellow face, and her shrivelled hands, in which she held a rosary.

Mary, who waited to be addressed, found herself exposed to the sharp scrutinizing gaze of the dark figure, without any regard to hospitality. She felt the insult, but far from withdrawing her eyes from this personage, she experienced a kind of fascination or dread, obliging her to watch her movements in order to protect herself. Suddenly a smile of contempt passed over the lifeless face of the lady, and slightly turning herself to a person who sat behind her chair, and of whom the head alone was visible, she said,

"She has the same vain beauty which I supposed her to possess, and which confirms her presence as much as the assurances of interested persons. A good task, if the talent of her grandmother has descended to her; and you may collect together all your wisdom, for not all the strong castles of Scotland and England were formerly sufficient to protect what that becoming cap covers."

A short hoarse laugh succeeded this incomprehensible speech.