time to time he caught views of Malvern, and he was careful in every step to remember the bearings of those lovely hills, even when concealed from him by the inequalities of the ground. He could not, as he walked thus along, but think of the various circumstances of this busy day; and think also with regret of what Maurice now was, and what he had been a few years since; and whilst thus meditating, he advanced but slowly, knowing that he had every chance of being still too early for the evening coaches.

At length, turning into a lane, on each side encompassed with high trees, which would, he conjectured, soon bring him into the high road, he saw before him a very singular old farm house, with many gables, in one of which was a pointed window, resembling that of a gothic church; a quaint old-fashioned garden encompassed this gable.

Henry stood awhile to look at these objects, and asked a man who was passing, what this place was, and to whom it belonged. The answer surprised him. "These lands," he said, " belong to 'Squire Howard, of Elminton."

"And that house?" asked Henry.

"It is a very ancient mansion," replied the stranger; "it was a hall house once, but it is now occupied as a farm.”

"And as a chapel," said Henry, "I think." The man muttered somewhat sullenly, "Not as I knows on," and then proceeded; and Henry was also going on, when the sound of horses' feet advancing along the lane was distinctly heard, and presently two gentlemen

handsomely mounted met him full in the face; the one was in black, the other Henry did not observe, neither did he at the instant recollect the first; a second look, however, brought to his mind the Signor, or rather, we should say, the Father Carlo Rolandi.

An amazement, the expression of which the Jesuit found it impossible to suppress, at the sight of Mr. Milner, so overpowered him, that his hand checked the bridle, and the well-trained horse which he rode stood still instantly: however, the rider recovered himself immediately, and in a most gracious manner inquired after the young gentleman's health, and that of the friend whom he had last seen with him.

over

Henry accounted for his being there, by telling him that he had come from the fields, and was making his way to the high road where he hoped to be overtaken by a coach, asking if he were in the right way. The Father instantly sprang from his horse, gave the bridle to his companion, and then begged to be permitted the pleasure of directing the young gentleman into the way. Henry begged that he would not give himself the trouble; but after several complimentary speeches on both sides, the polite foreigner prevailed; and having accompanied Henry, perhaps, half a mile, left him in the straight road, as far as material objects were concerned, but in a most perplexed and tangled path, as to the ideas which this unexpected meeting in this retired and shadowy lane had created. Nor could he make up his mind whether this appearance of the Jesuit had, or had not, anything to

do with the evasion of Maurice, even after long deliberation on the subject. The remainder of Henry's journey was concluded without other events worth mentioning.

at

CHAPTER XVIII.

A new light seen through the green spectacles.

MR. DALBEN had made up his mind, that as Maurice had taken his lot into his own hands, there was small use in interfering with him any further; he was, however, somewhat struck with the coincidence between his having been seen and the presence there of the Father Rolandi, who, as Henry supposed, must have been the person in black seen in the house where was the balcony. And now the turbulent Irish boy being gone, a considerable degree of calm was restored to the lower department of Mr. Dalben's household; and as owing to the old gentleman's weak health, few visiters were admitted, Henry's time for the rest of the vacation passed away in a tenor so calm, so sweet, that after the affair of the loss of Maurice, there occurred not an event which could be recorded. That worthy personage, Mr. Nash, in his bushy-wig, coal-scuttle hat, cambric

66

stock, and spatterdashes, was the only person admitted; and this excellent man, who, by-thebye, was older than Mr. Dalben, though still active and hale, proposed to Henry, as soon as it was necessary for him to return to Oxford, to come and make his abode at Mr. Dalben's. "I have neither wife nor child," he said, " and I have, as it happens, a young friend in the house, who has little to do, and lives for the present with his parents, who are farmers in my parish; he will take the occasional duties for me, which are very few, and I will leave my cottage under the care of Molly—you remember Molly, Mr. Milner?—and ride over from hence every Saturday evening, returning on the Monday morning. I have sounded your uncle," added the worthy man," and saw that my proposition pleased him, for we do very well together. I know his ways, and he knows mine. I can guess pretty nearly when to talk to him, and when to be silent; and the housekeeper too, she knows my ways; and now that lad Maurice is gone, I shall often withdraw to the kitchen, and perhaps take my supper there when your uncle is gone to bed." Henry knew the old custom of curates in the retired parts of Worcestershire, and how they were wont to live in a sort of best kitchen. Mr. Nash was probably the last of that genus-a man who never in his whole life had written a sermon, had never been at college, and had somehow or other just slid into the church before these things began to be almost impracticable without a degree in the universities. As to his knowledge of religion, Mr. Nash certainly had not obtained it by human learning,