and remain over Christmas. They were not to have the usual full house on account of the Squire's indifferent health and the war. Her young people-seven of them now!-were overwhelmed with joy at the prospect.

Immediate preparations were made the first being a letter advising her dear C. T. that she would be from home till after the New Year and begging him to write no less fully than usual all his news, yet to hold his epistles until her return to the town. She gave him no hint of her destination.

This letter made Mr. Trevenna a still sadder man.

A

CHAPTER XVII

THE CALL

FTER the events of his passage through the North Door, Mr. Trevenna spent almost the whole of the two following days in the nave of his church. The wall had fallen about one window, and its arch was shored up with timbers. And now, re-dressing and laying stones for restoration, his thoughts were free to travel. Never very punctual for his meals, he had forgotten them on the second day, but for Watchman's arrival with a mandate from Martha in his mouth. The poor woman was almost beside herself when at last he appeared; for he would scarcely eat anything. Indeed he had to remind both her and Cherry several times that he was expecting a summons-perhaps to an old friend, possibly to some unknown sufferer-he could not determine which it might be. But they would understand his having no stomach for the food they set before him, though he was none the less in good health and grateful to them.

On the third day in the forenoon, he put down his tools, washed his hands in the turbid water of his pail, dried them on his apron, donned his blue jersey and once again went out through the North Door. As it closed behind him he knew he was called; that at last he had brought his ships to land and had left his nets. Even as his friends the Quakers would in spiritual submission be led to the succour of those in danger or anguish, so he must now follow wherever he was led.

His way took him direct to Trannion Priory, whence

he was led through cellars and crypt, into the great cave. Here a feeble ray of light was shining and it became obvious that he was sent to the sick officer. Mr. Finnigan had been telling him how the patient, though recovered, was still low in spirits and longing to go home to his wife and children. He had confessed to assuming a false name for private reasons and that, if he could be set free, he would return to London.

The man was now sitting upon the edge of his bed and trying to dress himself. Mr. Trevenna apologised, was glad to hear he was quit of his fever, and offered his help, though adding that he seemed too shaky to be adventuring a journey.

"If I get these damned clothes on, Parson, I'll be out of this and chance it," he said without any expression of civility towards his visitor.

Nay, sir, but in your weak state, you'd be prostrate before you'd gone half a mile."

"Ain't there a decent inn in this cursed town, then ?" asked the invalid, still ignorant of his prison's locality.

"The nearest-and a poor place enough-is fully two miles away, I grieve to say," said the other, in no way discouraged by the disrespectful language. "But you'd never reach it; and I doubt if any conveyance can be had."

The patient wearily dragged himself into bed again, glanced at his visitor with a momentary appeal from his dog-like eyes, and then drew the blanket over his head.

"Can't I be of any use?" asked Mr. Trevenna, putting a hand gently on his shoulder. You know I have nothing to do with your detention here. My friends thought fit to keep you till they could get you away safely; but you were taken ill. Without the care of my friend the physician, you would have been in your grave before this.'

The sick man pulled the blanket closer over his head, like a naughty child.

"I wonder if you remember the events leading to your capture?" asked Mr. Trevenna, tentatively.

"Look here, Master Parson," then said the patient, suddenly throwing off the blanket, "this is a monstrous queer way you've got of helping a man: blister my stars if it ain't!"

Nay, forgive me if I seem to speak rudely. I am myself a man who have suffered much, and I speak to another who may be suffering more. The realizing of your escape from a terrible doom should lift your heart up and make you keen to adventure life yet again!"

"Look here again, and I'll be candid," said the lieutenant querulously, yet with a touch of class-hauteur and fixing his visitor with a steady stare, "I've no love for you whining parsons, nor for the way you cast your eyes up after each bit of mischief you're paid for."

"For instance?" asked Mr. Trevenna, laughing so heartily that the patient's bitterness was sweetened, and he became for a moment communicative.

Splicing me and my lady, for one small thing," said he, but only to stir up again the bitter dregs," and when everything goes wrong, you blame God Almighty for joining us together! We poor devils might have a chance if you weren't putting your fingers in the pie every five minutes! I'm not being personal, sir, but priest or parson, you're all in the same plaguy fry!" Again Mr. Trevenna laughed honestly at the sick man's coarse humour, but checked himself.

Forgive me," he said; " your comedy hid from me the tragedy beneath, Mr., but I do not know your name for certain. I am sure I could help you. I am a complete Hôtel-Dieu of other people's sorrows and miseries. I think I never fail to give some help."

"Beelzebub himself can't alter facts. An Archbishop can't unharness marriages."

"No, but God can make me a clean heart and renew

a right spirit within me. Therein He proves His power; the intolerable then becomes a burden joyfully borne.'

The pale face, with its heavy lips, large nose, narrow brow and dog-like eyes now looked to the parson very pitiful. For some two or three minutes the man lay motionless on his side, with his eyes fixed on the other's face. Then the officer slowly pulled himself into a sitting posture and struck his own leg fiercely.

"I adored my wife--if you will have it!" he said in a hoarse whisper, "like a dog loves its master. I was just like other men of breeding, and knew the town and that sort of thing. Trust me to manage a female and know what she wants! There were dozens would have given their ears to marry me-proper ones too. But only one of 'em all was good enough for me. Yet she married me only to please her father, and told me a long tale about some queasy clawback of a parson she affected. Gad! I didn't listen to that sort of schoolmiss's sentiment; and I married her right off. But odd's life! I made one fat-witted blunder; thought all females were peaches off the same wall! And I tell you, sir-you're a married man, of course, and you'll apprehend me-well, the more she hated me, the more I adored her. So that, now, though I want to get home, I ain't much drawn to what's no sort of home, but for my two sons. Thank Providence, it's me and not their mother they take after!"

Mr. Trevenna was now convinced of the possibility that had been growing upon him. He sat still, as a man of stone, with face as white.

"Will she not welcome you?" he asked.

Oh, yes, she'll welcome me. Sit with me, make sure the huzzies warm my bed properly, mix my punchyou shall taste it some day, if you like. I tell her it's the tip of her little finger that does it! My butler tries the same tricks as her's and only spoils the damned brew! Oh, yes. And I say this for her, she adores my