CHAPTER IV.— Continued.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume V, Issue 214, 1 June 1877, Page 5

CHAPTER IV.— Continued.

" Yes, indeed," said Walter ; " introducing the queen's prayer-book instead of the holy sacrifice, and hunting the faithful priests who offer it into prison and to death." " Hush ! " said Mary, suddenly ; " there is some one ceming." In a few moments they were joined by Lord Beauville. " Might I crave a few minutes' conversation with Mistress Thoresby ? " said he, in his softest tone. Walter departed, and Mary, with no little trepidation, found herself alone with the formidable Earl ; but the interview did not prove an alatming one. Without committing himself in so many words, Lord Beauville gave Mary to understand that if she chose to arrange the baroness's funeral by night, and hide a priest in the house to perform the ceremony, he would engage that himself and his train should affect ignorance of the whole transaction, while their presence insured the latter against any molestation from the civil authorities. When the Earl left her, Mary sought Isabel, but could not rouse her to the slightest effort, or to express any wish on the subject. Walter and herself made all the arrangements ; and two days afterwards, Eose Ford, under charge of one of her father's yeomen, came to the castle ; and in the same disguise in which he had quitted it, Father Gerard re-entered the home of the De Lisles. At midnight, a little group gathered in the crypt beneath the beautiful chapel of the castle, now disused and desolate. It was deemed safer that the mourners should only be Rose and Eachel, in addition to the family. Slowly they recited the solemn office of the dead, so full of mingled awe and consolation ; then the holy sacrifice was offered up ; and at length they laid the corpse of Alice de Lisle by the side of the husband she had mourned so well for many long years. Walter's grief was passionate ; and though for long he struggled for control, the barrier broke down at last, and he wept unrestrainedly. Mary, Eose, and Eachel mingled their tears with his, and even Father Gerard was overcome at times. Isabel alone remained unmoved; she shed no tear, uttered no sigh, not even when for ever on earth was hidden from her eyes the form she loved so fondly. When the rites were concluded, all the little party of mourners, except Eose, were anxious to seek consolation from Father Gerard, as it was necessary he should depart at an early hour in the morning. Isabel was the last to come to him, and she did it almost unwillingly, and with such a look of stony endurance written on her face that he would gladly have seen it exchanged for passionate grief. " Do not, my dear child," said the priest, " exercise so violent a control over your feelings ; give way to a natural grief. God does not forbid us to mourn — rather, He saith, Blessed are the mourners — if with our sorrow we but adore His holy will ; and He whose submission never man equalled, had with it strong crying and tears. I would fain see you weep, Isabel." "I cannot, father," was the answer; the words seemed to choke her, and she buried her face in her hands. Father Gerard spoke of the baroness, of her patient life and holy death, of the perfect submission of her saintly soul to the loving and eternal -will of God. " I firmly believe," said he, "she is with the saints in glory." Still Isabel was not moved; Father Gerard's face grew very sorrowful. "Isabel," said he, almost immediately, "we must part; and it is unlikely we shall ever meet again on earth. lam an old man, and it cannot be much longer that I can serve my Master in this world. Men seek my life : God grant, in His great mercy, that I may be suffered to lay it down for His sake. My child, over whom I have watched for so many years, listen to me for the last time : I have warned you before, Isabel, of that deadly enemy who tracks your path and lays snares for you. Beside your saintly mother's bed of sickness, there was not much room for his temptations ; but the case is different now, Isabel : you are going into scenes of fearful temptation. Firm must be your hold on the anchor of the cross if you would not fall. Isabel, beware of pride." Isabel raised her head. "Ny pride would keep mo from the fall you hint at, father. Isabel de Lisle is too proud to be a renegade from the faith of her fathers and the traditions of her house." " Pride keep you close to the faith of the lowly Son of Mary?" answered be. "Oh, never! O my child, lay aside that selfreliance, that haughty nature — too proud to mourn, too proud to seek for aid. I would send a little child into the strife of life with more confidence than I would you." " I tbank you, father, for your trust in me. If I have hitherto been so unfaithful to the religion which none can profess without suffering, as to warrant you to speak thus with justice, I was ignorant of it. You blame me for controlling myself; methinks I need it, and such words from you on my mother's burial ni°-ht ! " Isabel was burning with indignation. " It is the night of our parting, and that for ever," rejoined the priest j and he looked up where, through the narrow window, he saw tlie sun rising. " Something tells me that my time draws near. We must meet once more, Isabel ; but then it will be too late for priest to warn. Will you not suffer me to speak, even in chiding and truth, for the last time ? I cannot speak falsely even to comfort you, Isabel, though my heart bleeds for you." " Forgive me, father," said Isabel, bursting into tears ; " forgive me for those sinful words. I know lam unworthy you should speak to me. Alas ! without you how shall 1 live, how shall I ever struggle against temptation ?" And then Isabel wept long and deeply. The sun had now risen, and Father Gerard was warned he must not linger longer. The parting was brief, as partings with

those who look not to meet again ever must be. Isabel, completely subdued, sought her chamber, as soon as Father Gerard, bestowing a fervent blessing on his ohildren, resumed his disguise, aad quitted the castle with Rose.