THE LIBRARY 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 "Tms LAND OF LIGHT, TRUTH, AND LIBERTY, SHALL SUFFER UNDER THE HLIGIITISO 
 CURSE OF DKMAGOOCKS. JESUITISM, AND KOKKIGN INFI.UKNCK NO LONGER." 
 
 paj?e 406.
 
 STANHOPE BURLEIGH. 
 
 THE 
 
 A NOVEL. 
 
 NEW YORK : 
 
 STRINGER & TOWNSEND, 
 222 Broadway. 
 
 MDCCCLV.
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1855, by 
 
 STRINGER & TOWNSEND, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for the 
 Southern District of New Tork.
 
 PS 
 
 TO THE YOUNG MEN OF THE REPUBLIC. 
 
 A NEW fpirit has gone over the land ! the fignal fires of 
 feventy-fix have been rekindled ! a new light has sprung 
 from Wafhington's tomb ! 
 
 Ye, who in the generous fervor of youth, are bearing the 
 torch of alarm through every valley, and making it blaze on 
 every hill-top of our beloved country to you who have 
 ftudied the Part, and will control the Future of this ocean- 
 girt land of Freedom, this book is dedicated, 
 
 By your fister, 
 
 HELEN DHU. 
 
 1693648
 
 TO THE READER. 
 
 THE terrible Company of Jesus the deadliest foe Civil and 
 Religious Liberty has ever had to contend with after hav 
 ing been sooner or later, driven from every civilized country, 
 has at last fixed its strong hold in the United States ; where it 
 believes it can recover from the wreck of its fortunes in the Old 
 World, and establish, for ages, the Empire of Loyola, in the 
 Land of Washington. 
 
 This Free Land, whose Institutions accord such broad tolera 
 tion to all Religious Sects, opened an inviting field to the leaders 
 of the Company of Jesus, who, in 1848, fled in dismay, from the 
 crumbling scenes of the decadent Monarchies of Europe. 
 
 The Continent of America had no sooner begun to be peo 
 pled by Europeans, than the Jesuits foresaw it would one day 
 become the scene of great Empires. They early began their 
 establishments on this side of the Atlantic. It required no 
 subtlety of intrigue, to give them sway over the vast colonies of
 
 vi JESUITISM FOUNDED IN THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 Portugal and Spain ; for, controlling the enginery of the Papal 
 See, they went forth armed with pontifical authority, and were 
 reverently received by the devout and submissive Catholics of 
 Mexico and South America. But it was by no means so easy a 
 task, to establish the reign of Jesuitism in the United States. 
 While Louisiana and the Canadian Possessions were under the 
 dominion of France specially favored by French Monarchs and 
 ministers the Jesuit missionaries established their posts, from 
 the Gulf of Mexico, to the great Lakes of the North ; and when 
 they had built their Institutions in Montreal and Quebec, they 
 had a chain 'of forts which extended around three sides of the 
 Thirteen British Colonies. 
 
 It was a serious blow to the Jesuits, when the Lilies of France 
 were swept from the Canadas; while they looked with con 
 cern on the transfer of the vast territory of Louisiana, and the 
 Peninsula of Florida, to the United States. 
 
 The chief exertions of the Jesuits in the New" World, were now 
 devoted to the establishment of their Institutions in the United 
 States; and this design has been pursued, with a tenacity of pur 
 pose, a subtlely of intrigue, and a success altogether unparalleled, 
 in the history of the Company of Jesus. But it is only a few 
 years in fact, it is hardly twelve months since anything like a 
 general alarm lias spread over the American people in regard to 
 the progress of Jesuitism in this country. The nature of our 
 Institutions, and the provisions of our laws offering asylum to 
 the evil, as well as the good to the enemies, as to the friends of
 
 DESCRIPTION OF A JESUIT. Vll 
 
 Reformed Government and Reformed Religion exposed our 
 social ard political system to pre-eminent perils. When the note 
 of alarm was sounded, eminent men in Christianity and in States 
 manship, allayed our fears, by the assurance, that all these evil ele 
 ments would be modified by the spirit of Republicanism that the 
 Church of Rome in the United States could never be the Church 
 of Rome in Ireland, in Spain, or in Italy that Jesuitism itself 
 would be powerless against the irresistible influences of Light and 
 Liberty. 
 
 And thus we warmed the serpent into life, under the belief that 
 gratitude, or the magic influence of Republicanism, would pluck 
 out his fangs. But we are beginning to learn that Jesuitism is 
 the same unchanging principle of intrigue and evil in Republk-s, 
 which it has proved itself for ages to be under Monarchies. To 
 the Jesuit, all forms of government are alike. He is literally all 
 things to all men. He cares not who wears the livery of power, 
 if he himself holds the reins of empire. In Russia, he is, at most, 
 only a devout Catholic oftener, and apparently, a sincere wor 
 shipper of the Greek Church. " Draw the character after what 
 the Jesuit seems to be in London, and you will not recognise 
 your portrait in the Jesuit of Rome. The Jesuit is the man of 
 circumstances. Despotic in Spain, constitutional in England, 
 republican in Paraguay, bigot in Rome, idolater in India, he 
 acts out in his own person, with admirable flexibility, all those 
 features, by which men are usually to be distinguished from each 
 other. He will accompany the gay women of the world to the 
 theatre, and will share in the excesses of the debauchee. With
 
 Vlii POLITICAL INTRIGUES OF THE JESUITS. 
 
 solemn countenance he will take his place by the side of the reli 
 gious man at church; and he will revel hi the tavern with the 
 glutton and the sot. He dresses in all garbs; speaks all lan 
 guages ; knows all customs ; is present everywhere though no 
 where recognised and all this should seem [oh, monstrous blas 
 phemy !] for the greater glory of God ad majorem Dei gloriam? 
 Nicolini's History of the Jesuits, p. 2. 
 
 The Jesuit always sides with power ; for he always seeks its 
 favor. When he changes parties, it is only to prostrate those 
 whom he cannot make his instruments, and elevate those whom 
 he can. He could not entirely control the councils of Louis 
 Philippe, and he joined in the outcry against the Banquettes 
 shouted with the men of February, '48, as a new Republic sprang 
 into existence, when he immediately began to plot for its overthrow. 
 
 He cares not who is elected President of the United States, 
 if only he be sure that he can penetrate the secrets of the 
 Cabinet, and sway its policy. He is a Whig in one State, and a 
 Democrat in another. He is a Secessionist and a Slavery Pro 
 pagandist at the South, and an Abolitionist at the North. He 
 concedes to you, or to me, all things except power. He will give 
 you his money for a while ; but, like a roue gamester, it is only 
 to entice you to play deep. He cares not whom you set up or 
 pull down, in the political world, provided always ho can sway the 
 purposes of the man just coming into power. 
 
 Alarmed, as the country has justly become, at the tremendous
 
 THE POWER OF THE COMPANY OF JESUS. ix 
 
 power which the Company of Jeaus and that Company controls 
 absolutely, the Catholic Church in the United States is putting 
 forth in our land, not one of our citizens in a thousand, has the 
 slightest conception of what the Jesuits have already accomplished. 
 We know that they have founded, or are founding, their Schools, 
 Colleges, and Convents, in every State we know that they tax 
 heavily four million Catholics in the country that they " hold 
 the keys of Death and Hell," as the representatives and vice 
 gerents of the Pontiff that they refuse burial to every believer, 
 unless an onerous fee is paid to the officiating priest. We know 
 that wherever our demagogues bargain for the Catholic vote, they 
 can reckon with certainty upon success ; and we know, too, what 
 that vote costs : seats in Cabinets, and on the Supreme Bench 
 Chaplaincies in the Public Service Foreign Missions and Em- 
 bassies posts of honor and emolument at home and abroad 
 places by the thousand, in the Revenue Service ; while we witness 
 the extraordinary spectacle of the entire Postal Department 
 which controls the transmission of the public and private 
 intelligence of the country confided to the hands of a Roman 
 Catholic, with upwards of fifty thousand offices in his gift. 
 
 And there are other signs of the growth, the progress, and tho 
 power of Jesuitism in this country, which lie immediately under 
 the eyes of the whole people. But our countrymen do not know 
 how deeply, demagogues of all parties have intrigued with the 
 Jesuits ; nor how strong is the fetter which binds them, when 
 once it is forged, to the centre of the Catholic power at Rome 
 they little know how immense are the revenues in the hands of 
 
 1*
 
 X FOREIGN SPIES IN AMERICAN HOMES. 
 
 the Jesuits, nor how vast are the contributions sent over to them 
 from Europe, to n^iintain and spread their dominion. There is not 
 a Catholic Government on the other side of the Atlantic, which 
 does not munificently aid them. There is hardly a Catholic in the 
 United States, rich or poor, who is not obliged, at least once a year, 
 and many of them every week, to make their contributions. 
 
 Around how many dying beds the Jesuits or their agents 
 and coadjutors are lurking, to clutch the possessions of the 
 dying, although it may be by robbing the widow and the orphan 
 how many and how subtle are the influences which are brought 
 to bear upon every Protestant family that is possessed of wealth 
 how often their daughters are sent to Convents of the Sacred 
 Heart, at home and abroad ; where they are gradually won over 
 to the Catholic faith, and end in becoming enemies of the religion 
 of their forefathers that at the Confessional, the secrets of every 
 family in the United States, in which a Catholic lives, are per 
 fectly known that the most strenuous exertions are put forth, 
 and often with success, to get boys of promise^ and young men of 
 genius or wealth in Protestant families, sent to Jesuit Colleges 
 that the immense revenues which are swelling the coffers of the 
 Church, from all these, and numberless other sources, go directly 
 into the hands of the Catholic Hierarchy ; and that if this state 
 of things were to continue for a few years to come, the Jesuits, 
 who are the leading spirits to marshal this formidable power, 
 would consolidate a structure that would overshadow and control 
 the country and its Institutions, for ages-^-what do our people 
 know of all this?
 
 WHAT IS JESUITISM? Xl 
 
 By fair means or foul for to the Jesuit it makes no difference 
 how he accomplishes his purposes all that human ingenuity can 
 do, is done to warp the passions and prejudices of the living 1 , 
 and decide the last acts of those who are about to die. The 
 Catholic church professes to prohibit and anathematize all 
 marriages between Catholics and Protestants; but a Jesuit can 
 always find a way to get round this obstacle, if the Catholic . in 
 question is marrying rich. The sincere Catholic wants hia 
 confessor with him, when he feels the trailing of death's 
 pinions around his pillow ; and he is perfectly sure to have a 
 priest there, and a Jesuit at that, if the dying man is to leave a 
 fortune. 
 
 This has been the settled policy of Jesuitism in all countries ; 
 nor is there a single Catholic land, where, at different times, edicts 
 and laws have not been proclaimed, absolutely prohibiting the 
 Jesuits from receiving, or enjoying any legacies, or estates, left 
 them in the wills of deceased testators. These acts were found 
 necessary, for at one time, the Jesuits had succeeded in getting a 
 very large portion of the wealth of Europe into their hands. 
 Even at this early day, they have larger resources in, the United 
 States, than any, or perhaps all other sects put together. 
 
 They appear in the guise of poverty they have always 
 done so. Ostentation they abhor, because it would betray them. 
 They affect the most rigid simplicity, and even extreme destitu 
 tion, for by no other means could they control their vast re 
 sources, or wield su^h unparalysed power.
 
 Xii WASHINGTON VCTSUS LOYOLA. 
 
 Nothing is more certain than that Jesuitism must ~be foiled, and 
 suppressed in this country, or the Institutions of the country must 
 go down. They cannot both continue to exist in their strength 
 and vigor. One or the other must give way. There is an 
 eternal hostility in their very nature, between the principles of 
 Washington, and the principles of Loyola between the spirit of 
 the Generals of the Company of Jesus, and the spirit of The 
 Fathers of our Republic. 
 
 Jesuitism is not a plant of American origin. It has nothing in 
 common with the history or the institutions of the country. It 
 is in no manner allied to the Declaration of Independence, or to 
 Republican forms of Government. It dreads the light, although 
 it meekly professes to court it. It hates the diffusion of intelli 
 gence among the masses of men. It has educated scholars, but 
 it never educated any man for any other purpose than to use him. 
 It has Convents of the Sacred Heart all over the world, where it 
 educates girls, but never except for one or two purposes either 
 to make them polished and seductive instruments of their power, 
 to build up their system through the agency of blandishments 
 and charms, before which the other sex are so powerless or, if 
 they fail, the unyielding subject will generally be found to end 
 her life in a nunnery. 
 
 Wherever they have influence, the institution of matrimony 
 is in their hands. They leave hard parochial labor and drudgery 
 to the common priesthood; many of whom know as little of 
 Jesuitism, and even less than the Protestants themselves. But
 
 JESUITISM THE SOUL OF PAPACY. xiii 
 
 they do all the nice work, themselves. The Diplomatic Depart 
 ment is entirely in their hands. They have cords drawn all 
 round the world. 
 
 Catholicism is generally supposed to be a complete organization, 
 for it has its Supreme Head at Rome, and its subordinates, of all 
 ranks, everywhere ; but Jesuitism is a greater and a more perfect 
 organization ; for, working in the church, and under its sanction, 
 it stretches its arms of influence where Papacy never could go, and 
 with a power which Papacy can never wield again. Jesuitism is 
 the soul of the Hierarchy of Hildebrand ; without it, Papacy 
 would hold no sway, except over the ignorant and bigoted. 
 
 Jesuitism has little to do with the poor and neglected classes 
 of mankind. It strikes only for jewels. One Princess at a Court, 
 may be worth five Ministers in a Cabinet ; one intriguing Ameri 
 can demagogue in power, is worth, for the purposes of Jesuit 
 ism, more than the wealth of a Croesus. One word of terror in 
 " the chamber where a rich man meets his fate," often gains a for 
 tune that endows a Convent. One young, genial, clear-headed 
 boy of genius, may, by a breath of influence, that would not dis 
 turb a leaflet, have his heart gained for Loyola for ever; and all 
 the might and glory of his mature talents, be turned into Jesuit 
 channels for life. 
 
 The Company of Jesus was founded by one of the most subtle 
 and comprehensive minds that has made the world feel its power. 
 Our space does not allow us to glance even at the history of this
 
 XIV A WORD ABOUT THIS BOOK. 
 
 wonderful Institution ; nor is it necessary, for the illustrious 
 Niuolini, who is justly regarded as one of tho most learned and 
 impartial of historians, has just given to the world, "The History 
 of the Jesuits, their Origin, Progress, Doctrines, and Designs ;" 
 and it throws more light over the subject than any other work yet 
 published. 
 
 A word in regard to this Book. Although it appears in the 
 form of a Romance, it is not a creature of imagination. The 
 characters and events have their originals ; and nothing has been 
 written in the spirit of exaggeration. 
 
 The reader who goes thoroughly over THE SECRET INSTRUC 
 TIONS OF THE JESUITS, which are incorporated into the volume, 
 will find that this work is but an illustration of the operations 
 of Jesuitism, in its natural and legitimate forms. 
 
 And millions of my Countrymen will at once recognise in 
 STANHOPE BURLEIGH, only the impersonation of the startled 
 Spirit of Patriotism, LIFTING ITS RIGHT HAND TO HEAVEN, AND 
 SWEARING BY THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER, WHICH FLOATS OVKK. 
 THE CAPITOL, THAT THE REIGN OF AMERICAN DEMAGOGUES, 
 JESUITISM, AND FOREIGN INFLUENCE IN THIS COUNTRY, SHALL 
 CEASE. 
 
 NEW YORK, 
 Eighth of January, 1855.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. The Convent of Bant' Ambroglo, 17 
 
 CHAPTER II. The Jesuit's Tower, 28 
 
 CHAPTER III. Charles Albert, . 81 
 
 CHAPTER IV. Stanhope Bnrleigh, . . ... . . .43 
 
 CHAPTER V. The Revolution, 50 
 
 CHAPTER VI. The Schemes of the Jesuits, 56 
 
 CHAPTER VII. The Flight to America, 66 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. Attempt to Save Genevra, 11 
 
 CHAPTER IX The Rescue, . 85 
 
 CHAPTER X. The Voyage, 1C6 
 
 CHAPTER XL The Jesuits in our Homes, 122 
 
 CHAPTER XII Genevra at Home, 138 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. Stanhope and Genevra, 189 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. The Ride to Claremont, 144 
 
 CHAPTER XV. The Disappearance of Carlo, 15T 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. Stanhope and His Mother, 166 
 
 CHAPTER XVIL The Counsellor of the Jesuits, 175 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. The Sick Man 1S6
 
 xvi CONTENTS. 
 
 PaCT 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. Inez and Jaudan, . .__ 191 
 
 CHAPTER XX. Inez and Stanhope, 193 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. Inez and Genevra, 198 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. The Tools of the Jesuits, 201 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. Ride to Greenwood, 209 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. The Secret Political Conspiracy, 219 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. The Mother, 226 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. The Three Conspirators, 236 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIL The Will, . 294 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII The Three Conspirators Again, 308 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. The Plot Thickening, 321 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. The Departure, 327 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. Agnes Stewart, 840 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. The Journey, 354 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. The Father, 361 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. The Orphan, 371 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. The Grave, 875 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. Life in the Convent, 884 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIL Inez's Plan for Escape, 888 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. The Jesuit Alone, 894 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. Taking the Veil, 897 
 
 CHAPTER XL. Stanhope finds Genevra, .400 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. The Dead Bride, 4C3 
 
 CHAPTER XLIL The Oath, . . 405
 
 STANHOPE BUELEIGH. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE CONVENT OF SANT' AMBROGIO. 
 
 IN the oldest part of the ancient city of Genoa, stands the 
 Church of Sant' Ambrogio. It is a grand and gloomy 
 structure. Its walls are blackened by the shadows of time, 
 and they have been shaken by the revolutions of ages. 
 
 But there are so many solemn, century-worn edifices in 
 the native city of Columbus, that the Church of Sant' 
 Ambrogio would hardly arrest the step of the traveller, 
 if he had not previously heard something of its history. 
 And the traveller would see only a ruin, even as he 
 looked from the Hill of Calvary on the City of Jerusalem, 
 unless he knew that he was gazing on the City of David, 
 from the spot where the Man of Nazareth died. 
 
 Save black walls, somewhat battered in the strifes of
 
 18 THE OLD CHURCH OF SANT' AMBROGIO. 
 
 the Middle Ages ; and a few long, massive links deeply 
 eaten by the corrosion of time of the famous Iron Chain, 
 which the Genoese tore away from the River Arno, when 
 their war galleys went up to the conquest of the opulent 
 City of Pisa ; there is but one other striking object in the 
 front of the Church. Across the street, is thrown a covered 
 archway resembling the Bridge of Sighs, at Venice 
 which connects the Church of Sant' Ambrogio with the 
 Ducal Palace. 
 
 The Old Church of Sant' Ambrogio ! With its black 
 pillars, its gilded galleries, its master-pieces, its golden 
 lamps, its Mosaic altars, its solemn tombs, its dingy walls, 
 its stained windows, its fresco dome, far up in the sky ! 
 How many penitents have knelt before those altars ! How 
 many sleek Jesuits have glided noiselessly under those 
 shadowy arches, in the still night-hours ! How many 
 scenes of intrigue, triumph, and suffering, have been 
 enacted within those fearful walls ! 
 
 In the rear of the Church, and closely connected with 
 it, stands a huge, irregular pile of buildings, covering 
 nearly an acre. There are long, cold passages, with cells 
 on either side, which thread their way through the almost 
 interminable pile. The floors are of stone ; worn in the 
 centre, and at the threshold of each door, by the cease 
 less sandal-friction of sliding feet feet that have come and 
 gone for three centuries : for its inhabitants seem never
 
 THE HALLS OF THE COXVENT. 19 
 
 to die. The doors are high, narrow, and black rusted 
 too ; for they are of iron. 
 
 And all along those half-lighted passages, are hung, 
 near the arched ceiling, long rows of the portraits of the 
 Fathers, some of whom have gone into the Saints' Calendar. 
 They look forth from black, forbidding frames : there is 
 no gilding about them, save in the rays of glory which 
 stream from the heads, or in the rude letters which tell 
 the names of the dead men whose faces are represented. 
 
 Indeed, throughout those narrow, chilling halls, there is 
 an appearance of poverty even of want. The place 
 looks like the dwelling of a poor Confraternity a con 
 gregation of men who had gathered there to escape the 
 sorrows and temptations of earth, and lay up their trea 
 sures in Heaven. 
 
 A door opens, grating on its hinges, and the creak 
 echoes through the endless passages. The pale, hooded, 
 sandalled Monk who makes his appearance, darting his 
 keen, grey eyes up and down the halls, looks as though 
 he were the only brother left, of a once numerous Com 
 pany, who, long ago, made these now desolate places 
 ring to the noisy mirth of wine-bibbing Monks. Every 
 thing bears the aspect of poverty and desolation. 
 
 And yet that place is thickly inhabited. There is a 
 signal that would make those dim passages swarm with 
 living men, like the tap of a drum in a fortress. And
 
 20 THE SOLITARY TOWER. 
 
 there, had often been hidden, in the recesses of those 
 walls, treasures of gold and precious stones that would 
 purchase a kingdom, or dethrone its sovereign ! It held 
 treasures still. 
 
 This old, holy-looking pile, suggestive of beads, Ave 
 Marias, and low chantings through the aisles, and sweet 
 chimes, floating far up among the towers ; is the Convent 
 of Sant' Ambrogio, and it is inhabited by the Jesuits ! 
 
 After many turnings to the right hand and the left, far, 
 far up, till you have, even by slow steps, lost your breath, 
 you come to a grey tower, which surmounts the dust- 
 covered pile that overlooks the city. From its summit 
 you may behold the Alps, with their Gothic snow-peaks, 
 far distant in the West ; and the bald Apennines, far 
 away to the East. It brings also to the eye, from its 
 western window, the spires and domes of a hundred 
 Churches, with the tideless waters of the Mediterranean ; 
 while it commands a clear view of two other objects, often 
 and vigilantly watched the Convent of the Sacred Heart, 
 three miles west of the town, and the Fortress of San 
 Michele, standing clear out on the sky, from the naked 
 brow of the highest of the range of hills, that sweep their 
 mighty amphitheatre around Genoa. 
 
 This tower, solitary, grey, cold, cheerless, had two 
 entrances. One was by a trap-door in the floor, which 
 flew open when a secret spring was touched by the master
 
 THE PASSAGE TO THE INQUISITION. 21 
 
 of the place, as he stepped on the slender iron ladder that 
 conducted to it. The other entrance was a dark, perpen 
 dicular passage, hardly three feet wide, which descended 
 from the tower to a dungeon, more than two hun 
 dred feet below far under ground far below even the 
 walls of the Convent, straight, and almost as smooth as 
 a cylinder. It was a secret passage-way, built in solid 
 stone. 
 
 Once in the tower, these two egresses were not visible. 
 The trap-door, through which the descent was made ,by 
 the ladder, was covered by a piece of ancient tapestry ; 
 and when the occupant of the tower was there, his chair 
 stood over the spot ; partly because this trap-door was 
 near the centre of the room, and partly for greater 
 security against surprise. The entrance to the other 
 egress would hardly have been detected by the closest 
 scrutiny. 
 
 The tower was built in the form of an octagon, with 
 high narrow windows, which could be darkened by iron 
 shutters from the inside ; and seldom more than two of 
 these shutters were open. One of them commanded a 
 view of the Convent of the Sacred Heart; the other 
 looked on the distant Fortress of San Michele. The 
 walls were nearly two feet thick; and, although the 
 chamber was scarcely three yards in diameter, it could 
 not have been less than twenty feet high. The walls
 
 22 THE HALL OF THE INQUISITION. 
 
 had been so constructed, that in each of the pannels 
 between the windows, there was a secret door, known 
 only to one person. One of these doors opened into 
 the narrow, perpendicular passage, that conducted to the 
 underground apartments of the Convent, the dungeons 
 of the Inquisition, and the secret hall of the Inquisitors. 
 To that place, through the secret door, the occupant of 
 the tower could descend at his leisure, by stepping upon 
 a platform, which moved up or down, at his will. 
 
 In that secret Hall of the Inquisition, plots have been 
 laid, which have overturned thrones, ended the history of 
 Republics, and driven Doges, Patriots, Kings, Emperors, 
 and Pontiffs into exile. In the archives of those subter 
 ranean apartments, the history of the struggles of Liberty 
 with Despotism, for three hundred years, was recorded. 
 
 In those fearful chambers, the fate of some of the chief 
 actors in this narrative was decided ; and the night-councils 
 of the secret Jesuit Conclave that met there, may yet 
 shake the fortunes of the American Republic.
 
 THE TOWER OF THE JESUIT. 23 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE JESUIT'S TOWER. 
 
 IN this solitary retreat, -which rose high above the ocean 
 of passion that surged round it, during the troublous times 
 of Italy in the Revolution of 1848, late at night, by the 
 side of a small bronze table of antique sculpture, over 
 which hung a silver lamp once used by Clement XIV., 
 the victim of the Jesuits, sat PADRE JAUDAN, the General 
 of the terrible COMPANY of JESUS, the leader, and now the 
 forlorn hope of the Jesuits of Italy. 
 
 He had long since passed the age which limits, to most 
 men, the prime of life ; although, but for his hair, which 
 was white and lustrous as burnished silver, he seemed 
 still to retain all the attributes of early manhood. He 
 was an inch or two above six feet, with a head and form 
 so symmetrical, that Thorwaldsen had found in him the 
 model for his most perfect statue. 
 
 The first thing that struck one in Padre Jaudan's ap 
 pearance, was the air of graceful command with which he 
 moved. The first thought that occurred was, that he
 
 24 THE GENERAL OF THE COMPANY OF JESUS. 
 
 had passed a portion of his life in Camps ; the rest in 
 Courts. His forehead was lofty, but not expansive ; his 
 eyebrows full, and slightly silvered ; his eyes small and 
 grey, and charged with magnetism. At his will, they 
 were full of fire, or melted to the liquid softness of a 
 woman's. His nose was pure Roman ; and his expanded 
 nostrils bespoke invincible pride, and instinctive love of 
 power. In repose, his mouth was perfectly beautiful. 
 When it relaxed with a smile, exposing teeth pure, and 
 perfect as ivory, it lost its classic chiselling in the careless 
 grace of voluptuousness ; and when it curled with hatred 
 or contempt, it wore the expression of a demon. 
 
 His skin was fair, almost transparently pale, and yet, 
 but for the whiteness of the hair, it looked as though 
 tune and decay had both forgotten him. There were 
 moments when his face appeared as spiritual as Plato's ; 
 there were others when it glowed with the soul of poetry ; 
 and sometimes it looked like that of a fallen archangel. 
 
 It was capable of reflecting, and of concealing every 
 passion. In the restless, untiring struggle for dominion 
 over the souls of men, it had been trained to obey the 
 volitions of a subtle and commanding spirit. 
 
 His hands were small, white, and soft, indeed, 
 almost too feminine : and the scrupulous neatness and 
 delicacy of his nails, bespoke refinement, and even a 
 touch of vanity. His feet indicated the same symmetry
 
 THE OCTAGON TOWER. 25 
 
 of proportion. When he appeared in public which he 
 seldom did his dress bore no sign of ecclesiastical rank, 
 much less any emblem to betray the supreme eminence 
 he held as the real and sole chief of the most powerful 
 society on the earth ; and yet those plain garments con 
 cealed the finest linen. 
 
 As he sat by the bronze table, he was dressed in a 
 robe de chambre of the purple velvet of Genoa ; that im 
 perial color which, from the time of the Caesars, has been 
 the livery of empire. This dress was lined with crim 
 son satin, and confined at the waist by a cord of the 
 same color, from which was suspended a rosary, with 
 beads of jet and links of gold, and at the end of which 
 glittered a cross of brilliants set in silver. On his left 
 breast was the broad crimson cross, that sign of a power 
 which seems to be as eternal as the faith that is founded 
 on it, and which has been worn over the heart of every 
 fully initiated disciple of Loyola since the Order was 
 established. 
 
 The solitary inhabitant of the Octagon Tower, had not 
 risen from his chair for eight hours, and it was now past 
 midnight. The tocsin of revolution had sounded through 
 out Europe, and everywhere the trampled nations of the 
 Old World, had rung out their cry of vengeance on the 
 Company of Jesus, which had sacrificed the liberty of 
 two hundred million men since the days of Luther. The 
 
 2
 
 36 THE HOME OF THE JESUITS. 
 
 smothered fires of Republicanism had burst forth in 
 Italy ; Pius IX. proclaimed himself a reformer, and the 
 wave of revolution, starting from the Eternal City, 
 had sent its undulations over Europe, with the rush of' a 
 torrent. 
 
 Genoa, once the capital of the most ancient and the 
 most powerful republic that had flourished on the globe, 
 had waited for the proclamation of a Constitution from 
 Charles Albert, her Piedmontese King ; and the time had 
 come when she would wait no longer. The first condi 
 tion of that Proclamation, would be the expulsion of the 
 Jesuits from the kingdom. Nowhere were they so strong 
 as in the kingdom of Sardinia. Since Great Britain in 
 1814, betrayed the ancient Ligurian Republic to the 
 throne of Piedmont, the Jesuits had governed the policy 
 of that State, and controlled the fortunes of its people. 
 The salvation of the Order, now depended upon the firm- 
 .ness, the management, and the sagacity of Padre Jaudan. 
 The work, too, which he had to do, must be crowded into 
 a few hours. 
 
 He had carefully folded several letters written in 
 cipher, and was now gazing steadily on a small, finely- 
 wrought golden Crucifix, which he had taken from a 
 black casket of antique workmanship. The Christ re 
 posed, it did not seem, in the pure serenity of its divine 
 expression, to be fastened on a cross of mother-of-pearl,
 
 PADRE JAUDAN ALONE. 27 
 
 the hands and feet transfixed with nails headed with 
 large flashing diamonds. In laying the Crucifix on the 
 inner lid of the casket, he had so raised the head, that all 
 its beauty was brought out by the artistic light thrown 
 on it from the lamp above. Had Benvenuto Cellini him 
 self and it was one of his own works been there to 
 study the effect, he could not have changed its position. 
 
 " That," said Padre Jaudan, as the latent fire of his 
 eye began to kindle, " is the magical sign by which we 
 have gone through the world. There is not a people on 
 the earth by whom that sacred signal is not known and 
 reverenced. They tell me," he continued, as a sneer 
 gathered on his lip, " that the day is at hand, when the 
 sceptre of Loyola is to be broken : but this has been 
 the prophecy of the timid, ever since the death of our 
 Founder. 
 
 " What !" he exclaimed with an exulting smile, as he 
 rose from his chair, and walked with the measured step 
 of a sentinel round the Tower. " What ! Have we not 
 conquered the world, and defied every enemy ? The 
 company of Jesus was suppressed ; and the anathemas of 
 a Pope of Rome announced that we were no more. Wo 
 did disappear ; we fled to the forests and mountain caves 
 of Europe, or lived in disguise in its crowded cities, while 
 we were believed to be wandering on the shores of in 
 hospitable countries, on the other side of the globe. But
 
 28 WHAT JESUITS HAVE DOA'E. 
 
 did not Clement XIV. learn, at last, that there was one 
 man in Rome who bore a hand steady enough to let fall 
 that drop into the goblet which sent him to his grave ? 
 And did we not put a better man in his place ? Did not 
 the colossal empire of Napoleon dissolve at the touch of 
 the sceptre of Loyola 1 Can we not wake the spectre of 
 a revolution to trouble the dreams of any sovereign who 
 stands in our way ? And when Republics have swept 
 away Monarchies, can we not sweep away Republics ? 
 What care we for this new earthquake which threatens to 
 upheave every throne in Europe ? When Louis Philippe 
 was ready to betray us, did he not hear the shout of a 
 hundred thousand armed men under the windows of his 
 palace ? And a few hours later, as he reached the shores 
 of England in a fishing smack, did he not thank God he 
 stood once more on English soil ? Let Lamartine give 
 birth to his dream of a Republic, of Liberty, Equality, 
 and Fraternity, from the steps of the Hotel de la Ville 
 it will last no longer than we find the man, be he Bourbon 
 or Bonaparte, who will execute our will. Has the magic 
 power of the great Loyola come to this, that we are cor 
 nered, cheated, outwitted, repulsed, foiled 1 Where is the 
 Minister, Sovereign, Pope, or even President, whose life 
 hangs not upon a stroke of my pen ? And then, if we 
 are really driven, at last, out of decadent Europe, is there 
 not a new and great continent in the West, with a rising
 
 HOPES OF JESUITISM IN AMERICA. 29 
 
 empire which stretches from ocean to ocean, marching 
 forward to grasp the sceptre of the world ? a continent 
 with all the vigor of primal life, and all the enginery of 
 the most magnificent political and social system man has 
 ever seen, wherewith to develop human nature, and give 
 a reign of a thousand years to the company of Jesus ? If 
 we have achieved so much amidst the corruption of ex 
 piring civilization on this side of the Atlantic, where the 
 masses are brutes, and the few scarce know how to guide 
 them, what can we not do in that far off Garden of the 
 World, where Washington has secured, for ever, to all 
 creeds, and all believers, equal civil rights 1 I almost 
 think, sometimes, that we are playing the fool, to linger 
 around these seats of expiring dominion, while we should 
 be digging deep, in the New World, the foundations of a 
 power over the minds of men, which will give eternity to 
 the duration of Loyola's name. These revolutionists of 
 worn-out Italy these infidels who are singing their songs 
 of liberty, and shouting hosannas to a republican Pope in 
 yonder piazza we can take care of them yet I think 
 so." 
 
 The Jesuit stood still a moment, with his arms folded 
 on his breast. A flush overspread his cheek, as he pro 
 ceeded : 
 
 " Yes ! Let convulsions come : we will await them 
 here. The Company of Jesus was bom in the fanatical
 
 30 THE JESUIT DISAPPEARS. 
 
 days of the great German Monk, whom Heaven seems to 
 have created to be the Father of Revolutions. We were 
 cradled in tempests ; but the spirit of the great Loyola 
 has been the Stormy Petrel of every convulsion, and has 
 outridden the blast which sent all else to wreck. We 
 can guide the unchained passions of the globe. If Charles 
 Albert yields to the terrors of the mob, or the movement 
 of the times, he shall see more bleeding ghosts aroiind 
 his pillow than ever peopled the darkness of his bed 
 chamber." 
 
 A little bell on the side of the wall tinkled. Padre 
 Jaudan started. He had not heard that sound for many 
 months. It struck again*. 
 
 " Ah ! ha ! Now the work can go on to some pur 
 pose." 
 
 He laid aside his robe dc diambre ; threw on the plain 
 mantle of his order ; touched a hidden spring in the side 
 wall ; a door flew open, and he disappeared.
 
 <;HARLES ALBERT. 31 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 CHARLES ALBERT. 
 
 IF a being who could see objects in the dark, had looked 
 into the covered archway that led frem the church of Sant' 
 Ambrogio across the street to the Ducal Palace, two 
 minutes after Padre Jaudan disappeared from the tower, 
 he would have perceived the tall form of the Jesuit 
 gliding stealthily through the passage. He had descended 
 half way to the hall of the Inquisition, where he stepped 
 from the platform, through a narrow doorway that led to 
 the arch. The Father was going to the council-chamber 
 of the Doges. He had passed the arch, and stood before 
 a massive bronze door, over whose surface he carefully 
 moved his smooth hand till he touched a spring, when 
 the door began slowly to open. His sharp eye darted 
 an inquisitive glance, when at a little distance, and scarcely 
 discernible in the obscurity, he perceived a ihan advanc 
 ing towards him. 
 
 " Salute Padre mio." 
 
 " Caro Fratello" responded Jaudan ; " we meet again.
 
 32 THE JESUITS VISIT THE KING. 
 
 What news from the King?" and the two grasped each 
 other by the hand. 
 
 " Impressed with the belief that some evil would befall 
 him to-night, if he passed it in the Durazzo Palace, the 
 King summoned me, an hour ago, to his bed-chamber, 
 and would have me come with him to the Ducal Palace. 
 We have again threaded that infernal subterranean 
 passage of half a mile, and, prostrated by the fatigue, and 
 overwhelmed by the terror that drove him from his cham 
 ber, he is now in the red room, and I cannot tell you 
 whether he will die or go mad." 
 
 " He may do something worse than either," said Padre 
 Jaudan. 
 
 " What T" 
 
 "Yield to the mob, and grant a constitution." 
 
 " We can stop that." 
 
 " My dear Lorenzo, you do not know your man." 
 
 " At all events you are here, and I thank God. The 
 King touched the wire, and it seems to me an hour ' 
 ago." 
 
 " You must be excited, Lorenzo, it was hardly three 
 minutes." 
 
 " Perhaps not ; but the King is in such a state to-night 
 that a minute with him, is longer than a day with any 
 other man. Padre ! Padre ! what will all this come to 1" 
 
 " Let us go to his chamber," replied Jaudan. " I bear
 
 THE SECRET PASSAGE-WAY. 33 
 
 with me, as I always do when that bell rings, the Holy- 
 Casket. Lead the way." 
 
 They set out Padre Jaudan following closely in the 
 other's steps. They reached another bronze door, which 
 was ajar. It moved noiselessly to the pressure, and 
 they passed in. The apartment was dark, but Lorenzo 
 drew a sliding lantern from his side, which threw a par 
 tial light around. 
 
 "Now, Padre, all rests with you. Wait a moment, 
 and you will hear the King moan." 
 
 A heavy groan from the red room fell upon the ears of 
 both. Lorenzo started. 
 
 " That is something more than a moan," said Padre 
 Jaudan, with his usual serenity. 
 
 " Yes, Padre, he may have gone mad already." 
 
 " What said the last despatch of Metternich 1" 
 
 " Like himself, enigmatical, and therefore fearful." 
 
 " Were you with the King when he read it ?" 
 
 " I was." 
 
 " What was his first sign ?" 
 
 "He walked up and down the room, and exclaimed, 
 ' Yes, I am the slave of Austria, and my kingdom is the 
 glebe to which I am chained. But I will end the surveil 
 lance,' and he tore the despatch, and scattered the pieces 
 around the room. ' So perish,' he said, ' the last trace of 
 my servitude ;' and he gazed on the torn dispatch of the
 
 34 THE KIMG. 
 
 great Metternich, with the exulting look of a desperate 
 man who can be held in vassalage no longer." 
 
 "And in half an hour," responded Jaudan, " he sent 
 for you 1" 
 
 " He did." 
 
 "And confessed, and all that ?" 
 
 " He did." 
 
 " He will always do it, my dear Marquis. ' Once ours, 
 always ours,' was the motto of our Master himself. Let 
 Charles Albert strain on his Austrian fetter he cannot 
 break it. At all events, we shall see." 
 
 At that moment, a still more agonizing groan was heard. 
 This time it shook the nerves even of Jaudan himself; 
 but he recovered in an instant. 
 
 " There is no time to be lost, Lorenzo." 
 
 " Here we are, Padre, and by a passage which few, if 
 any, but ourselves can thread. This is the door." 
 
 It moved noiselessly on its hinges, as he spoke. 
 
 " With the leave of your Majesty," he continued, " our 
 Most Reverend Father is here." 
 
 " Let him come in," said the King. 
 
 Jaudan entered. If he had been looking upon a sum 
 mer landscape, from a mountain side, he could not have 
 appeared more serene. Advancing a step or two, he 
 dropped, with the grace of a courtier, upon one knee. 
 
 " Servitor e umilissimo, di Vostra Maestd."
 
 THK KIAG WITH TUB JESUITS. So 
 
 " Rise, Father ;" and the King extended his hand, which 
 the Jesuit loyally kissed. 
 
 Charles Albert was a tall, stately looking man. His 
 life had been a wasting struggle. For more than five- 
 and-twenty years, he has sat upon the throne of Sardinia, 
 vibrating between his natural inclinations towards liberal 
 institutions, and his terror of the threat of Austria, if he 
 granted them. Pressed, now, on all sides by the Pope 
 (who, in the first year of his reign, had flung out the 
 signal of reform and progress to the civilized world), to 
 grant a Constitution to his people ; by his nobles, who 
 had grown too timid not to comply with the request of the 
 Holy Father ; and by the ominous gatherings of excited 
 revolutionary thousands, while, at the same time, behind 
 the curtains of the throne, his Jesuit Confessor, who never 
 left him for an instant, except when he knew he was alone, 
 was raising up against him the almost insurmountable 
 barriers, that the Company of Jesus know so well how 
 to interpose, between a King and the liberties of his 
 subjects Charles Albert was trembling on the verge of 
 insanity. 
 
 Jaudan understood him at a glance ; and, despite the 
 apparent discourtesy, he- said to the Marquis in Portuguese 
 (which he knew the King could not understand), " Our 
 game is up ; he is in the hands of his ministers, and the 
 Constitution will be granted in three days ; " and then IK*
 
 36 A PASSAUK FROM HISTORY. 
 
 added, addressing the monarch, "Your Majesty looks ill 
 to-night." 
 
 " I feel that my hour is fast approaching," replied the 
 King, " and would to God I could hold the sceptre firmly, 
 through these days of trouble. But, whether I live or 
 die, I have held that sceptre long enough. I have decided 
 to leave it to my son. I shall die, or abdicate at once, 
 The Constitution will be granted. It is already written, 
 and my ministers will proclaim it from the Palace, when 
 the right moment comes. I have sent for you, Father, to 
 guide my soul through the great labyrinth I must so soon 
 pass. Your brave sword once saved my life, while we 
 were fighting against Liberty, in Spain, under the Duke of 
 Angoulcme ; and now I commit to you an infinitely greater 
 trust my soul. Speak as you once did to me : first of 
 all, as a comrade in arms ; then be my pilot to the gates 
 of Heaven, if a King like me can enter there." 
 
 "I will obey your Majesty in all things, to the last. 
 Shall we, then, see the battlements of the oldest throne 
 in Europe that of the Princes of Savoy go down 
 before this little deluge of infidel Democracy?" 
 
 The King lifted his hands imploringly. "Padre, I am 
 no longer King or soldier ; obey me once more ; come to 
 the concerns of my soul." 
 
 " I do obey your Majesty, but my first duty is to God ; 
 and before I pronounce entire absolution for such a life
 
 THE GENERAL AND HIS MASTER. 37 
 
 as you have led, I must think of the well-being of four 
 millions of your subjects." 
 
 The King trembled, and staggered back. The Marquis 
 supported him, till he sunk into a fauteuil. His head 
 rolled back, his jaw fell, the livid hue of death over 
 spread his face, and even Jaudan thought he was dead. 
 
 " My dear Marquis," he said, " the game is up." 
 
 "What is to be done?" exclaimed the Marquis, with 
 trepidation. 
 
 " Why," replied Jaudan, with his accustomed serenity, 
 " ring the bell for the King's physician, or undertaker 
 perhaps, while you are about it, it would be well to 
 ring for both." 
 
 The Marquis sprang to the table, and, seizing the 
 little bell, rang it violently. 
 
 " Not so loud, my dear Lorenzo. We are not beating 
 to quarters on the old Isabella." 
 
 In justice to the Marquis Lorenzo, we should here add, 
 that he never lost his self-control, except in the presence 
 of Charles Albert, or his supreme master Jaudan, the 
 General of his Order. Charles Albert was a king, and 
 Jesuits themselves are extremely careful, and often ner 
 vous, when they are dealing with men in power. Nothing 
 but great talent for command, ever lifts a man to the 
 summit of the Company of Jesus. Jaudan was one of 
 the greatest of Loyola's successors. Lorenzo was a man
 
 38 THE DYING KING. 
 
 of sentiment, heart, heroism, daring; and generally of 
 self-command ; but in the presence of his imperturbable 
 General, who was never thrown off his guard, the Mar 
 quis was a child. 
 
 The door of the red room flew open, and the first 
 Minister of State appeared. 
 
 Count Sola della Margurrita was a pupil of Metternich. 
 He had been for many years the chief Coadjutor and Pro 
 tector of the Jesuits of Sardinia. Many a time had he 
 knelt by the side of the King in the private chapel of the 
 Convent of Sant' Ambrogio, where they received the 
 holy sacrament from the hands of the General of the 
 Order. But he was, after all, very much such a man as 
 Jaudan had always taken him to be. He knew that 
 Jaudan and Lorenzo had been in the King's private 
 chamber, and, to his credit as a discreet Minister of 
 State, and an astute Jesuit, he had heard everything 
 that had transpired since they entered. 
 
 He was expecting to see the king in some attitude of 
 terror, or, perhaps, trembling on his knees before his 
 Jesuit Confessor. One glance showed an entirely dif 
 ferent tableau. He did not think the king was dead. 
 
 " He has only fainted," said the Minister, as he bowed 
 with profound respect to Jaudan and the Marquis ; and 
 stepping to the side of the room, a single touch of his 
 finger brought, in five seconds, the physician of his
 
 THE PLOT KAILS. 39 
 
 Majesty. Taking a small vial from his pocket, lie poured 
 its contents instantly into the open mouth of the King. 
 At the same time, with his other hand, he lifted the 
 falling jaw, and the king made a sign of life as he 
 swallowed the drops. 
 
 The group was sculptured in silence. Perhaps it was 
 ten seconds when the king started and attempted to rise ; 
 bnt before the courtiers in attendance had lifted their 
 hands, he sank back again. 
 
 " You have come, then," he feebly uttered, as he 
 looked towards the Count. 
 
 Margurrita bent down his head and whispered in the 
 ear of the king. 
 
 " Yes," said Charles Albert, " we ought to be alone." 
 
 The Count, after the manner of the court, gracefully 
 dismissed the two Jesuits, who withdrew from the room. 
 
 Once more in that dark passage, the sliding lantern 
 was brought out. 
 
 " Did I not tell you the game was up ?" 
 
 " Yes, Padre, 1 ' said the Marqxiis, " this part of it is up; 
 but what in the name of God are we to do ?" 
 
 " Why, the Constitution will be proclaimed, as I told 
 you, and at once." 
 
 " That finishes us in Sardinia." 
 
 " And for that matter," rejoined the General, " in 
 Italy."
 
 40 UK IS AO JESUIT. 
 
 " What, then, is to be done?" 
 
 " My dear fellow, you are one of the poorest Jesuits 
 I ever saw. You are too much in the habit of yielding 
 to the petty passions and excitements of the hour. You 
 must look to this little fault of your character, for you are 
 superbly built up in other respects. Now, as to what we 
 are to do good heavens ! Everything, except to lose the 
 mastery of ourselves. We have no time for that. At 
 such moments, ice must control others. All revolutions 
 are but the work of citizen mobs. Somebody must guide 
 the blind passions of the multitude. Even the English 
 Lord Bacon says, that if you get five hundred gentlemen 
 in a street, and excite them, they become a mob. Here, 
 Av r e have animals, and not gentlemen, to deal with. Of 
 course you understand that we have lost everything, in 
 losing Count Sola dclla Margurrita. He is no Jesuit." 
 
 " Margurrita," added Jaudan, as they returned through 
 the same archway that the General had passed, "is a 
 bad Jesuit, because he has not preserved the sentiment of 
 loyalty which he once sanctioned, as you well know, 
 with his oath. Lorenzo, is anything plainer in the whole 
 realm of mathematics, than that he cut us to-night 1 
 Margurrita has betrayed us us, for you are true" and 
 Jaudan lifted the lantern, and turned the light straight 
 into the face and eyes of the Marquis. Lorenzo was a 
 loyal man. He was too brave to be a hypocrite. ; and,
 
 READING TMK FUTURE. 41 
 
 under the blinding light of that lantern, and with the 
 burning eyes of the General of his Order scrutinizing his 
 soxil, even to its inmost recesses, unabashed, he grasped 
 Jaudan's hand, and said, " General, this is child's play, 
 after we have been on so many battle fields together." 
 
 It was, perhaps, the only moment of Jaudan's life when 
 he felt thoroughly' ashamed of himself. 
 
 "Well," he continued, "this same (5ount is a dema 
 gogue. He will kill the poor King, or get him to abdicate ; 
 or make him give the constitution, which the mob are 
 howling for, and which timid and stultified Kings and 
 Popes will grant, wherever five thousand men yell for it ; 
 and of course he is looking for the new regime. Small 
 men, like Margurrita, are obliged to take advantage of 
 these trivial occurrences ; for they have nothing to fall 
 back on ; nor have they the sublime patience that we 
 have learned, during years of probation they know not 
 how to serve, and, consequently, they know not how 
 to rule. They know not how to wait ; and, of necessity , 
 they feel that they cannot afford it. We have done all, 
 and can do it again." 
 
 Together the Jesuits crossed the archway, and threaded 
 the labyrinth which led to the cylinder, through which 
 they must pass up to the Tower. The platform was 
 found where Jaudan had left it. They stepped upon it, 
 and enclosing themselves in each other's arms, they rose
 
 42 A BATTLE LOST. 
 
 steadily to a certain height, when the secret pannel 
 opened, and they found themselves in the Octagon Tower. 
 
 " Now," said Jaudan, " we must begin to act. We 
 know, my dear Marquis for you heard it what Napo 
 leon said on the field of Marengo, when one of his gene 
 rals told him, 'This is a battle lost" 
 
 " ' I believe it is a battle won.' " 
 
 " We shall see."
 
 STANHOPE BURLEIUH. 43 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 STANHOPE BURLEIGH. 
 
 STANHOPE BURLEIGH, a young American of genius and 
 promise, after a complete course of academic and law 
 studies at Harvard University, had, at the age of twenty- 
 two, visited Europe, to pass one year at Heidelberg, aud 
 another in Italy. He was now on his way from the 
 south, and that same evening he was to turn his face once 
 more towards his native land. 
 
 On the morning after the interview between Padre 
 Jaudan and the King, Burleigh had gone to take a last 
 look of the church of the Annunziata, one of the most 
 superb temples of art and religion in the north of Italy. 
 He had seen it the year before, as he went towards Rome ; 
 and now, as he was leaving Italy that holy land of the 
 scholar so soon to forget all these -dreams of the ideal 
 world in the tumultuous life of the great Republic of the 
 West, he wished to carry with him those images of 
 beauty and grandeur which the Annunziata would leave 
 on his memory, when, in future times, his fancy wandered
 
 44 THE FLOWKU-UIKL. 
 
 through the haunts of genius, art, and heroism, in the 
 " City of Palaces." He had chosen the Annunzlala as 
 the last sight to see, as we wait till the last moment to 
 bid adieu to the friend we love best. 
 
 But all that Stanhope Burleigh had seen and felt, 
 during two years in Europe, was of less importance to 
 him, than the little incident which occurred the next 
 moment, as he was descending the steps of the church. 
 
 " Si degna Signore di comprare una boquet ?" 
 
 Burleigh's fancy was yet wandering through the long- 
 drawn aisles and frescoed vaults of the magnificent temple 
 he had left : his heart was in the midst of that struggle 
 which every man of taste and sentiment feels, when he is 
 looking for the last time upon one of the most glorious 
 monuments of Italy. 
 
 But when is the voice of flowers unwelcome to the 
 soul 1 Least of all, when the giver offers them in the 
 sweetest language of all the earth ! 
 
 " Si, carina" replied Burleigh, in the same tongue, 
 with the slightest foreign accent, " I will buy some 
 of these flowers, and take them home with me to 
 America." 
 
 "Mille grazie, signor, I love the Americans. They are 
 generous, and always buy my flowers. Here is the most 
 exquisite bouquet I have had for many days." 
 
 As Burleigh took it, and handed her a piece of money
 
 LA SIGXORIXA A.MKUICANA. 45 
 
 which, she acknowledged with that native grace which is 
 the heritage of every Italian, she added : 
 
 " I, too, know a bdV Americana." 
 
 " What is her name, my sweet girl ?" 
 
 " They call her Genevra, and I see her every day." 
 
 " Genevra ! where ! " exclaimed Burleigh, starting, 
 with an expression of the deepest interest. 
 
 " In the gardens of the Convent of the Sacred Heart." 
 
 "Have 1, then," said Burleigh, to himself, "at last 
 found the spot where they have imprisoned my heau- 
 tiful Genevra ? "When did you see her last ?" he con 
 tinued. 
 
 " This same hright morning I found her in the garden 
 before the dew had left the flowers. I had gone, as I do 
 every morning, to buy my flowers from the good Sisters. 
 The Signorina Americana often assists me in gathering 
 them. And here," continued the flower-girl, as she cast 
 a sympathetic, inquiring glance into Burleigh's anxious 
 face, " is a cluster of rose-buds she cut with her own 
 hand, and gave to me just as I was leaving the garden." 
 
 " Do you know how long Genevra has been in the 
 Convent ?" said Burleigh, still agitated. 
 
 " I saw her there, Signore, for the first time, two sum 
 mers ago." 
 
 " This cannot be a coincidence," thought Burleigh. 
 " It must be Genevra. Do you know anything of her
 
 46 THE LANGUAGE OF LOVE. 
 
 father? Have you heard who took her to the Con 
 vent ?" 
 
 " No, Signore. When we are admitted there, we must 
 not ask questions." 
 
 " Does Genevra seem to be happy 1" 
 * " No, Signore. I am sure she is miserable." 
 
 " Why do you think so ]" 
 
 " Because she looks pale and sad. I often see her 
 alone in the garden, and I sometimes hear her sigh, and 
 she asks me about the world, and whom I have seen 
 but" 
 
 " Go on." 
 
 " Perhaps I ought not to, Signore. You may love the 
 Signomna, and some dark night go and carry her oft." 
 
 " No, no, my child. I did know her years ago, for I 
 played with her in my childhood. Her mother was my 
 mother's friend. She is now in heaven. I will make 
 you my confidant, and heaven will bless you if you will 
 tell me all the truth." 
 
 " Signore, you are an American. Your country, I am 
 told, is beautiful and free, where every heart can love, 
 and every tongue can tell to another what the heart 
 speaks to itself ; but it is not so here. I am admitted to 
 the garden of that Convent, where I see Genevra and the 
 other young ladies who are there to be educated, and I 
 must not betray their confidence. Besides, if I should,"
 
 GENEVRA. 47 
 
 and pressing her fingers against her lips, " you little 
 know what the Jesuits would do with me." 
 
 " I would not have you do wrong, my child, and your 
 secret is safe with me ; I will not betray you. But tell 
 me, is Genevra beautiful ?" 
 
 " Oh ! yes, Signorc, more beautiful," she exclaimed 
 with enthusiasm, " than the holy Virgin herself." She 
 started in terror, hastily crossed herself, and looking up 
 to Burleigh, " I don't mean that, Signor; I must not say 
 so ;" but, throwing her round arms free once more, with 
 all the earnestness of an Italian maiden, she added, " Oh, 
 Signor, she is an angel." And then she playfully added, 
 " The Madonna must love her, for Everybody else does." 
 
 " Can't you describe her to me exactly, my child 1" 
 
 " Oh ! yes ; her hair is soft, rich, long, wavy, a beauti 
 ful sunny chestnut, like Guide's Maddalena in the Church 
 of Sant' Ambrogio. Her eyes are of a deeper blue than 
 this violet, and they are as large and almost as full of 
 tears as those of the Maddalena herself. I have not a 
 flower as fair as her skin ; and yet her lips are as bright 
 as this carnation ; and, oh ! Signor, if you could see her 
 smile, you would bend to kiss her robe, as we bow before 
 the Virgin." 
 
 " It is my Genevra," said Burleigh, as hope flashed 
 over his face, and his eyes swam in tears. " The pledge 
 of the bud has been redeemed by the flower."
 
 48 THE MKSSACiE. 
 
 " The Signore must love the Signorina, I think," said 
 
 the flower-girl, archly. 
 
 " Carina, will you carry a letter to Genevra 1" 
 
 " Oh ! no, Signore, I should not dare to do it." 
 
 " Well, then, will you carry a message 1" 
 
 " Yes, Signore, I should dare to do that." 
 
 " Are you sure you can remember all I say to you ?" 
 
 " Yes, Signore, if you do not say too much." 
 
 " Well, then, take this card to Genevra, and say " 
 
 " Oh ! Signore," interrupted the girl, " this is as bad as 
 
 a letter." 
 
 " Well, then, can you remember my name ?" 
 
 "What is it, Signore?" 
 
 " Stanhope Burleigh." 
 
 " You are such a kind and handsome Signore, that I 
 
 shall be sure to remember it. But won't you pronounce 
 
 it again?" 
 
 " Stanhope Burleigh." 
 
 " Stanhope Burleigh ?" 
 
 "Yes. Now, Stanhope Burleigh." 
 
 " Si, Signore, Stanhope Burleigh, Stanhope Burleigh. 
 
 Now, Signore, what shall I say ? for you must not send 
 
 anything wrong." 
 
 " Say, then, that Stanhope Burleigh, the friend of 
 
 Genevra, has been in Italy for a year ; that he has just 
 
 learned from you where she is he has never forgotten
 
 ADDIO CARINA. 49 
 
 her. And ask her if he cannot see her. Ask her if he 
 can do anything for her ; and tell her that he will live 
 and die to make her happy." 
 
 " Caro Signore, that is all so easy to remember, I will 
 not forget a single word." 
 
 " And when will you see Genevra ?" 
 
 " Are you very anxious to have me see her immedi 
 ately 1" 
 
 " Yes, the first moment you can." 
 
 " Well, I can see her in an hour, perhaps ; for I can 
 always pass the gates of the Convent ; but I am a little 
 afraid all this is wrong." 
 
 " No, no, it cannot be wrong to make Genevra happy," 
 said Burleigh. 
 
 " I will go. I am sure the Madonna will love me if I 
 can make the poor lady smile once more." 
 
 " When will you return ?" 
 
 " I will be here, in this same place, with my basket of 
 flowers, at Vespers, and till then addio, Signore. 11 
 
 Addio, Carina ; and may the Madonna protect you. 
 I will be here at Vespers."
 
 50 THE REVOLUTION. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE REVOLUTION." 
 
 THE .flower-girl flew away, and Burleigh hurried to his 
 hotel to countermand the order for a seat in the Malle- 
 Poste for Turin that evening. 
 
 " I will know the worst of this," he thought ; " I will 
 see Genevra before I leave the city. The flower-girl 
 cannot have deceived me. Genevra in the hands of these 
 monsters of crime the Jesuits ! No, no, it can be no 
 choice of hers. I still love her, nor shall I ever forget 
 the tenderness and confidence with which her dying 
 mother charged me to protect and shield her from the 
 enemies of her faith, when she should be no more." 
 
 Carried back by these thoughts to other years, Bur 
 leigh hurried on, unconscious of the approach of a vast 
 multitude who were rushing into the Piazza, with shouts 
 of "Liberia," " Viva la Costituzione" " Viva Pio Nono," 
 " Viva Carlo Alberto," "Alasso i Gesuiti" 
 
 Lost, as Burleigh was, in his own sad thoughts, he 
 might perhaps have passed the mob, had not the last
 
 THE RESURRECTION OP ITALIAN LIBERTY. 51 
 
 words that rang on his ear " Down with the Jesuits " 
 alarmed him for the safety of Grenevra. 
 
 Transported with the smothered indignation of a whole 
 generation, which had now found vent against the reign 
 of despotism, the first wild passions of the infuriated 
 populace would be directed against the Jesuits, whom 
 they regarded as the authors of all they suffered. 
 
 Down through the Strada Nuovissima excited thou 
 sands came rushing like a dashing river, filling the 
 square. 
 
 Burleigh found himself borne backward, and impotent 
 to resist the mighty current, he yielded to its rush. A 
 few moments later, he was standing on the steps of the 
 Annunziata, where the leaders of the movement were 
 already standing, to greet, inflame, and guide the excifed 
 throng. 
 
 "Fratelli di Liberia," exclaimed the speaker, who was 
 evidently the commanding spirit of the day. The words 
 had no sooner fallen from his lips, as he lifted his hand 
 to beckon silence, than a shout came back like the roar 
 of a tempest. 
 
 "Brothers," he continued and that surging sea of 
 passion grew still as he spoke, while every eye was bent 
 on the speaker " the day we have so long waited for, 
 has come. The Italy of the Romans has emerged from 
 the tomb of Brutus. From that tomb, electric fire has
 
 52 THE CROCE DI MALTA. 
 
 flashed over the nations of Europe. A volcano has burst 
 tinder the throne of the Bourbons ; and a republic has 
 been proclaimed in Paris ! Kossuth has lifted the flag of 
 liberty among the fastnesses of Hungary ; and the tyrant 
 of Austria, with an Italian guard at the gates of his pal 
 ace, has thrown out a constitution to his people ! Ferdi 
 nand has proclaimed a reign of liberty to our brothers 
 in Naples ; and Pius IX., the divine apostle of freedom, 
 has given resurrection to the ancient republic in Rome ! 
 Charles Albert, our king, is now writing a charter of 
 liberty for us, and it will be proclaimed before to-morrow 
 night. That proclamation will send the accursed Jesuits 
 into exile. Such is the decision of the ministry. Let us 
 wait till the king speaks. But if that constitution does 
 not come before sunset to-morrow, meet me here, and we 
 will undertake the work for ourselves ! " 
 
 As if by a magnetic touch, the solid mass dissolved, 
 and poured itself out from the piazza into all the sur 
 rounding streets, quietly dispersing, and giving a few 
 hours of reprieve to the King and the Jesuits. 
 
 Burleigh was soon lost in the wilderness around him, 
 and made his way in the best manner he could to the 
 Croce de Malta. 
 
 " Thank God," he exclaimed, when he found himself 
 alone in his apartment, " there are yet thirty hours left to 
 *ave Oenevra. What would I have given if I had known
 
 WHO IS GENEVRA? 3 
 
 this only half an hour ago ! I could then have 
 warned Genevra of her danger, and I could have 
 found some means to save her. It makes my brain 
 wild to think that the child of a New England 
 mother, whose ancestors stood with that shivering 
 group of exiles from despotism on Plymouth Rock, 
 should be exposed to the just indignation of fifty 
 thousand men. And Genevra, too, sent here against 
 her will, by a deluded Catholic father, who dreams 
 that at the Confessional, he can learn the best way to 
 take care of his beloved child." 
 
 For an hour Burleigh walked his room, struggling 
 with the intensest suffering. 
 
 " Why did I not think to tell the flower-girl where 
 I was staying ? Perhaps the Abbess of the Convent 
 may have some warning of the fate that awaits them, 
 and Genevra may have sent her back in haste to the 
 spot where we parted." 
 
 He left the hotel, and hurried to the Piazza dell' An- 
 nunziata. But the flower-girl was nowhere to be seen. 
 The place was deserted. " She went towards the west 
 ern gate of the city," he thought j I will go that way, 
 and perhaps I may meet her." 
 
 There was evidently concerted action throughout the 
 town, and few persons were in the streets. Scanning 
 every form and countenance as he passed, he advanced
 
 54 WHO IS STANHOPE BURLEIGH ? 
 
 till he reached the outer walls, filled with the most 
 painful solicitude. 
 
 " I will go no further," he reflected ; " for, at a signal, 
 these gates may be shut." 
 
 At this moment, far down the road, he saw a female 
 bearing a basket and running towards him. 
 
 " It is the flower-girl," he thought, and he hurried on 
 to meet her. Flushed and breathless, she flew towards 
 him, and placed in his hands a letter. He tore it open, 
 and read : 
 
 " DEAR STANHOPE ! 
 
 " I bless God that you are near me, for I need a pro 
 tector now. A message has just been received from 
 Padre Jaudan, to our Lady Abbess, commanding her 
 to prepare for flight. To-morrow night, the Convent of 
 the Sacred Heart, and the church of Sant' Ambrogio will 
 be sacked. Oh, Stanhope ! can you not save me and my 
 dear father ? He is with Padre Jaudan, in the Convent 
 of Sant' Ambrogio. I send back the flower-girl before you 
 expect to meet her, and Heaven grant she may find you 
 at once. Where you are, I do not know. 
 
 " GENEVRA." 
 
 Burleigh glanced over the letter, and, taking the 
 flower-girl by the hand, said, "Hurry with me to the
 
 THE FLOWER-GIRL AGAIN. 55 
 
 city. Where is the convent of Sant' Ambrogio, my 
 child!" 
 
 " Signore, it is behind the church of Sant' Ambrogio. I 
 have taken flowers there for the altar. Padre Jaudan is 
 a good man, and the friend of Genevra, for he always in 
 quires for her when he goes to the Sacred Heart. But, 
 Signore, I must not go into the city now, for Genevra 
 told me to come back to the Convent." 
 
 " Well, my child, fly back. Tell her that you have 
 seen me ; that I will save both her and her father. Tell 
 her not to leave the convent one moment, and I will hasten 
 to her rescue." 
 
 The poor girl tried to speak, but her feelings had 
 overpowered her, and she could only utter the words 
 " Povera Genevra"
 
 56 THE PLANS OF THE JESUITS. 
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 THE SCHEMES OF THE JESUITS. 
 
 PADRE JAUDAN and the Marquis Lorenzo, remained for 
 several hours in the tower of the Convent, laying their 
 plans for the future. 
 
 " For the moment, my dear Marquis, we have lost the 
 game in Europe. It is hest to yield to the tempest : if 
 we attempt to resist it, we shall he torn up hy the roots. 
 Our only salvation is to go with the current." 
 
 " Padre, what does this imply ]" 
 
 " Flight." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 "Ah, we must look to that. That is the business in 
 hand. We could stay in Italy, and, I think, securely ; 
 but we can do better, and I'll tell you why." 
 
 Jaudan rose from his chair, threw off his cloak, and 
 sliding his arms carelessly into the sleeves of his robe, 
 drew the skirts forward ; then leisurely resuming his easy 
 chair, he drew a silver snuff-box from his pocket, and, 
 after the fashion of an old snuff-taker, closed his eyes
 
 EXPULSION OF THE JESUITS FROM ITALY. 57 
 
 calmly, and enjoyed a good pinch. Then crossing his 
 legs, he looked intently at Lorenzo, as every muscle of 
 his face relaxed into a smile of diplomatic deviltry. 
 
 " Lorenzo," he said, " I have foreseen all this. I knew 
 it would take place. In fact, it became inevitable the 
 moment that the last balloting in the Sacred College 
 proclaimed that our great coadjutor, Cardinal Lambru- 
 schini, had been beaten by the Bishop of Imola. Carried 
 away by his sympathies for the spirit of innovation, this 
 Bishop of Imola suddenly opened the flood-gates of revo 
 lution, and now it has been going on for nearly two years, 
 until every Red Republican is shouting in the same 
 breath for ' Liberty and Pius Ninth.' We have exhaust 
 ed all our machinery in trying to stop this state of 
 things : we have failed; the current has been too strong. 
 It will all come out right at last ; but we have no interest 
 in deceiving ourselves. For twelve months, at least, the 
 game is up with us in Europe. I have, therefore, deter 
 mined to go to the United States. Our brethren have 
 achieved miracles in that great country. We have seve 
 ral strong points there at Montreal, Quebec, St. Louis, 
 New Orleans, Georgetown, and, above all, at New York, 
 where we can strengthen our fortifications, and control 
 the continent. Our reverend brother, Hubert, has 
 achieved so much, that he has fairly won the hat of a 
 Cardinal ; but he agreed with me, that it was better, for 
 
 3*
 
 58 HUBERT THE AMERICAN JESUIT. 
 
 the present, not to take it. He is one of the few great 
 men that now represent and sustain the stupendous 
 fabric, whose foundations were laid by Ignatius. Gifted 
 with a great mind, enriched by profound, although recent, 
 study ; inheriting from Irish ancestors the hot-blooded 
 enthusiasm of his country, which has been chastened by 
 supreme self-control ; an adroit political manager, closely 
 affiliated with the shrewdest politicians and statesmen of 
 New York, and of the whole Republic ; he sways a mighty 
 influence over the popular mind of the American people. 
 He has built up Colleges, Convents of the Sacred Heart, 
 Cathedrals, and Churches, as if they had been summoned 
 into existence by magic. We have no man in the Wes 
 tern World like him. He is qualified to-day to be the 
 General of the Company of Jesus." 
 
 " I well remember," rejoined the Marquis, " that Cardi 
 nal Lambruschini spoke of him three years ago, in much 
 the same way. The Cardinal went so far as to say that 
 he thought him to be, after yourself, the great man, par 
 excellence, not only of the Church, but of the Order." 
 
 " The Cardinal was nearer right than he generally is. 
 And now, Lorenzo, I intend to abandon Europe for a 
 year or two, leaving you here to look after our affairs 
 until this dash goes by, while I go to confer with Hubert 
 how we can best lengthen our lines, and deepen our stakes, 
 in the Great Republic of the West. We have always
 
 THE POLITICS OF FRANCE. 59 
 
 made one mistake we have seemed to take it for granted 
 that the Anglican, the Saxon, and the Norman mind, was 
 too mighty for us. But think what Francis Xavier 
 achieved in the East ! Think how slight an effort it 
 cost us to bring back convulsed Europe to its monarchical 
 repose, after the fall of Napoleon. It was the veriest 
 baby-play to guide Louis Philippe, till one of our bunglers 
 made a mistake, and excited the jealousy of Guizot, by 
 attempting to lift Count Mole into power. And you 
 know that I always thought badly of the marriage of the 
 Duke of Montpensier with the sister of Isabella. The 
 chief objection was, that everybody saw through it." 
 
 " I know you opposed the Spanish marriages, Padre ; 
 but do you not think they have turned out pretty well 1 
 And now that Louis Philippe is expelled from the French 
 throne, and Isabella may have no child, does not that 
 marriage give the legitimists a hold on the succession in 
 Spain?" 
 
 " Lorenzo," said Jaudan, with a slight tone of reproof, 
 " do you think it well to plant scions from a root that has 
 already gone to decay ? I tell you that both branches 
 of the Bourbons are extinct in France; and that the 
 Prince de Joinville himself, the most popular of all Louis 
 Philippe's sons, is no more possible in France, than an 
 other Charles X., or, if you will, another Louis XVI." 
 
 " Well, then, Padre, who is to rule France ?"
 
 60 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 
 
 " A Bonaparte, of course." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " For the best of reasons, Lorenzo. The Bourbons being 
 impossible, and a Republic in France being only a fan- 
 taisie of the brain of that most plausible of all optimists, 
 Lamartine, whom have you left but the Bonapartes ? 
 For there are but three Parties in France. The Repub 
 licans have degenerated into Red Republicans, for the most 
 part ; and such fellows as Ledru Rollin will soon bring 
 on a reign of anarchy, that will make everybody call for 
 a strong hand to save the ship from going ashore." 
 
 " Have you not such a man in Cavaignac ?" 
 
 " Fie ! Lorenzo ; he is only a stern soldier. He might 
 quell the Sections, like Bonaparte ; but he has no civic 
 talent for re-constructing society, like Bonaparte ; and no 
 one knows better than you, that no man can rule France 
 now, unless he has genius for the camp and the cabinet." 
 
 " Well, which of the Bonapartes ?'* 
 
 " That shrewd scamp, Louis Napoleon, who is now in 
 exile. He is the legitimate heir to the empire, and they 
 will elect him their President : it will end, if we play our 
 game well, in the reconstruction of the French Empire. 
 Lorenzo, here you have your chart of Europe, for the next 
 ten years ; and if I die, remember it. No matter how 
 long I stay in the United States, you must stay in Paris ; 
 for, between you and me, although I have great confidence
 
 LOUIS NAPOLEON'S HISTORY. 61 
 
 in our friend , I have generally found the French 
 
 somewhat fickle j and fickleness is the bane of Jesuitism. 
 You know what our Master said : ' My disciples will die, 
 but my system must live.' " 
 
 " Padre, do you know Louis Napoleon ?" 
 
 " Know him 1 Of course. Whom do I not know ?" 
 responded the General, as he started forward in his chair. 
 
 " Everybody worth knowing, Father." 
 
 " Yes, and everybody that will be worth knowing. As 
 for Louis Napoleon, I was in Bologna at the miscarriage 
 of that stupid expedition he was engaged in, when 
 his brother Charles threw his life away. I told Louis 
 he had made a great mistake. From that hour, he lis 
 tened to my counsels, until the affair of Strasburgh, when 
 he landed, with fifty companions, to take possession of 
 France. If he had waited six months, he might have 
 succeeded. You know the rest the Castle of Ham, and 
 all that. But Louis Napoleon, like other men born great, 
 wants nothing but an opportunity ; and that opportunity, 
 for him, is fast approaching. He needs our help, and ho 
 will have it. He will become Emperor of France ; and 
 he is too wise a man to kick down our ladder, after he has 
 once mounted it." 
 
 " This, then, is the role " 
 
 " It is ; and it is to be adhered to, no matter what 
 happens."
 
 62 JESUIT PLANS FOR AMERICA. 
 
 Jaudan opened the drawer in the table by which the two 
 Jesuits were sitting, and took from it a package of letters. 
 
 " Here you have it all. Take these letters, and copy 
 them before you sleep. The instant this is done, bring 
 me the copies, and keep the originals. These originals, 
 which I have already signed, must be sent to their various 
 destinations throughout the world. After my escape, I 
 shall send other copies of them, that no one may fail. 
 These letters map out the future of the Company of Jesus. 
 It is hardly possible that anything can occur that will 
 change these orders. At all events, while I live, I am 
 not likely to do it. Lorenzo, this is our policy in the 
 long run. Let it be carried out, and Europe is safe. 
 In the meantime, if I live five years, I will do for our 
 Company in the United States, what Loyola did for us in 
 the rest of the world ; and we will rear a superstructure 
 in North America upon the deep foundations Hubert has 
 laid, which will overshadow all other institutions there 
 for a thousand years to come." 
 
 The Marquis secreted the letters about his person, and 
 both rose from the table. 
 
 " How long am I to remain in Genoa ?" he inquired. 
 
 " As long as you think best : and this you cannot tell 
 till you have read, copied, and given me those letters. 
 You have one advantage which your General cannot have. 
 You can remain here in the midst of any revolution, for
 
 LAST INSTRUCTIONS OF THE GENERAL. 63 
 
 you are not obnoxious. They don't know you ; but as 
 for me I am the first target of the Revolutionists. After 
 you leave me to-night, there is no certainty that you will 
 ever see me again ; for this Convent is likely to be sacked 
 on short notice. Be sure to quit it in tune, and do not 
 forget those letters ; for, to tell you the truth, my dear 
 Marquis, they are worth more than your precious life 
 itself." 
 
 Lifting his hand to his forehead, and giving a sign 
 which was never at any one time in history known to 
 one hundred men, the General returned the signal, and 
 the history of Jesuitism for the next ten years was 
 written. 
 
 Lorenzo, thinking that his General had communicated 
 his last orders, was in the act of kneeling for his blessing, 
 with the cross of his rosary on his lips, when Jaudan, who 
 was pacing the room, turned, and said, 
 
 " Not yet. Whatever you address to me, must come 
 through Hubert, at New York : of course, everything 
 will be in the new cipher that you find in those letters. 
 I suspect the old one is somewhat rickety. Perhaps, too, 
 I may as well tell you another thing ; but it happens to 
 be a matter that you will keep entirely to yourself. You 
 have seen our invalid friend, Vincenzi, around the Con 
 vent ?" 
 
 " Often."
 
 64 JAUDAN'S OPINION OF AMERICA. 
 
 " Do you know who he really is V 
 
 " No, Padre." 
 
 " I will tell you. He is a retired American merchant, 
 who came over to Italy two years ago, with a very beau 
 tiful daughter, now being educated in the Sacred Heart. 
 He was recommended to me by Hubert. His fortune is 
 not much under twenty-five million francs, and by good 
 management it will be even more. He will not live long, 
 and, being a devout disciple, I think we shall have no 
 difficulty in getting the bulk of his fortune into our 
 hands. This will be very useful, you know, in America, 
 where we actually need money, Lorenzo. It is a very 
 expensive country, and appearances are everything in the 
 United States. Vincenzi is feeble and nervous. I shall 
 protect him ; and, under the agitations of this revolution, 
 he will naturally follow my lead in everything. He may 
 be made serviceable, also, in getting me out of the scrape 
 which I shall certainly be in before many hours have 
 gone by, if I stay in this city. You must know, that 
 Vincenzi, though born in Madrid, of a Spanish father and 
 an Italian mother, has been, for forty years, an American 
 citizen. Foreigners become citizens of the great Repub 
 lic by a very short process ; and a rich foreigner, in New 
 York, is even more esteemed than a rich man born on the 
 soil. So, if any thing occurs, you must be in the neigh 
 borhood to help me off with Vincenzi and his daughter.
 
 THE NIGHT CANNON. 65 
 
 I think, too, I may as well take young Carlo, the 
 neophyte, along with me. He promises well, and seems 
 to be very much attached to me." 
 
 At that instant the boom of a heavy cannon broke over 
 the city. Its reverberations shook the City. Jaudan 
 sprang to the north window, and looked towards the dis 
 tant fortress of San Michele. It was the harbinger of 
 the Constitution ! He understood the signal " Wait one 
 minute, Lorenzo," he said, as he looked at his watch; 
 " if that cannon is fired again, of course you know 
 we are exiled in the morning." 
 
 " It is impossible, Padre, that Margurrita is in such 
 hot haste as this." 
 
 " So I think." 
 
 It was an anxious minute, but it went by, and, after 
 waiting a few moments longer, Jaudan returned his 
 watch to his pocket. 
 
 " Lorenzo, here is my hand. We are not obliged 
 to say the final addio just now. That gun gives us one 
 whole day more, and that, with close work, is twice as 
 much as we ask for. The letters, Lorenzo." 
 
 Grasping the hand of Jaudan, and kneeling at his feet, 
 the Marquis bowed his head, and received the blessing of 
 the General of the Company of Jesus.
 
 66 PREPARATIONS FOR FLIGHT. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE FLIGHT TO AMERICA. 
 
 WHEN Burleigh parted from the flower-girl, lie hurried 
 back to the Croca di Malta. At the head of the stair 
 way, he met Captain Stewart, one of the accomplished 
 New York shipmasters, who own and command that fleet 
 of lightning Clippers, which have achieved for commerce 
 what flying artillery has accomplished for the art of war. 
 Tired of sea-life, Captain Stewart had, a few years be 
 fore, exchanged the deck of his ship for a beautiful farm 
 on the Hudson ; but soon growing restive in the waveless 
 calm of rural life, as clipper after clipper was launched 
 from our shores to outstrip the fleets of the world, he be 
 came thoroughly discontented, and one day he surprised 
 his wife by telling her that she must prepare a good 
 dinner for that evening, as his friend George Stearman, 
 the young ship-builder, was coming there to pass the 
 night, and make the final arrangements for laying the 
 keel of the Stormy Petrel. " For, Julia," he added,
 
 STANHOPE BURLEIGH. 67 
 
 " there is no use in talking about it, I can't stay ashore 
 any longer." 
 
 " But, Philip, why in mercy can't you stay with us ? 
 You are rich enough, and happy in this dear home of 
 ours." 
 
 " I tell you, Julia Stewart, I can't stand it any longer. 
 It is too late to repent. The Stormy Petrel will be 
 built, and I will go one voyage in her, whip out every 
 thing I see, and then I promise you, upon my honor, that 
 I will come home, be a good fellow all the rest of my life, 
 and die in my bed, like a respectable land-lubber ; and I 
 expect this event to take place when I am about ninety- 
 nine years old, and our grand-children are all well set 
 tled for life." 
 
 The captain was as good as his word. George Stear- 
 man arrived just as the dinner was being sent up. 
 Two hours later, the drawings of the model were laid out 
 on the table in the library, and when the two rose to 
 retire for the night, the Stormy Petrel was already in 
 fancy, shooting like an arrow by Neversink. In fact, not 
 many months later, this event actually took place, and 
 the new clipper-yacht had turned her sharp prow towards 
 the Mediterranean. She had taken freight enough to 
 Marseilles and Genoa to pay expenses, and her com 
 mander, after an American run of pleasure through Lom- 
 bardy to Milan and Venice, and back by the way of
 
 68 CAPTAIIV STEWART. 
 
 Bologna, Florence, and Pisa, was now nearly ready to 
 sail for New York, stopping a day or two for fruit at 
 Palermo. 
 
 " Well, Burleigh," said Captain Stewart to Stanhope, 
 they were at the same Hotel " the boys seem to be 
 out this morning. What is in the wind ?" 
 
 " Oh ! nothing but a revolution, I suppose." 
 
 " Ah ! Nothing more ? But we can have some fun 
 out of it, can we not 1" 
 
 " Yes ; more than we bargain for, perhaps, if we stay 
 here too long." 
 
 " Oh ! my boy, we are safe enough. The Star-Spangled 
 Banner is getting to be the fashion, I find. Burleigh, the 
 time has already come that Patrick Henry foretold, when 
 the proudest title a man can show for respect, is to say, 
 ' I am an American.' What say you ? Are these Ge 
 noese in earnest, or will it all fizzle out in singing 
 national airs through the streets ?" 
 
 " No ; they will make thorough work of it. Did you 
 see the gathering in the Piazza of the Annunziata ?" 
 
 " Yes ; and it is the best sight I have seen for many a 
 day," 
 
 " Well, do you know the plan ?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 " I will tell you. The King will have to proclaim the 
 Constitution before to-morrow night, and exile the Jesuits
 
 THE STORMY PETREL. 69 
 
 from the kingdom ; or, the people will take things into 
 their own hands, and drive the Jesuits out themselves." 
 
 " Blast the Jesuits," said the Captain, as he flew into a 
 transport of rage. " They ought to be torn limb from 
 limb ; for a more black-hearted, infernal crew, never went 
 forth from the gates of hell." 
 
 " Most likely, Captain ; but before the Convent of the 
 Sacred Heart is sacked, I must save two Americans, and 
 you must help me." 
 
 " Are they Jesuits ] for if they are, I will see them " 
 
 " No ; one of them is Vincenzi, an old New- York mer 
 chant ; and the other is his daughter, one of the purest 
 and most beautiful beings in the world." 
 
 "Ah, my boy, thereby hangs a tale, hey ? Well, Bur- 
 leigh, I won't run you ; for I was in love myself, when 
 I was about your age. What, then, is to be done 1" 
 
 " Clear your vessel from the Custom House, for New- 
 York, to-day, and have stores enough on board for five 
 or six passengers ; I can draw on my bankers, here, for a 
 thousand dollars, and that sum is at your service." 
 
 " Thank you, Burleigh ; but how the devil are these 
 people to be got aboard, without being discovered ? And 
 how can I go to sea, without a manifest of my passengers ? 
 I should be raked fore and aft, from yonder battery, before 
 I had passed the mole a single cable's length." 
 
 " I'll take care of all that."
 
 70 VISIT TO THE COX VENT. 
 
 " You are exceedingly kind, my dear fellow ; but I 
 happen, perhaps, to be a little better posted up in these 
 matters than you are. Every gate and passage-way to 
 the port is guarded by a file of soldiers, and the secret 
 police are swarming around us like hornets." 
 
 " Will you meet me here, Captain, at three o'clock 
 this afternoon ?" 
 
 " Yes ; and, for that matter, the Stormy Petrel will be 
 ready for sea." 
 
 " I will then tell you my plan." 
 
 " Take good care of yourself, my boy ; and, above all 
 things, don't get that ' most beautiful creature of all the 
 world ' into a scrape." 
 
 The Captain hurried off to his vessel, and Burleigh to 
 his room, where he threw everything into his trunks, 
 lashed them down, and started for his bankers. When 
 he had drawn his money, he went to the church of Sant' 
 Ambrogio. The doors were shut, and guarded by men 
 under arms. A large number of citizens were gathered 
 in the neighborhood, conversing in groups. Burleigh 
 approached one of the officers, and drawing him aside, 
 told him that he must see an American gentleman, named 
 Vincenzi, who was staying in the Convent. 
 
 " That will not be so easily done, Signore" 
 
 " Why not ? I also am an American, and here is my 
 passport with the vise of the Intendant-General of the
 
 THE PRIVATE ENTRANCE. 71 
 
 Police. I do not wish to enter the Convent; but you 
 can certainly take this card in to Mr. Vincenzi." 
 
 Burleigh took out a card, and writing on it a few 
 words, handed it to the officer, with an unmistakable 
 sign. 
 
 " Follow me, Signore." 
 
 They passed round the corner to the rear of the Con 
 vent, where they were admitted at a private door. Bur 
 leigh then placed in the officer's hands several pieces of 
 gold, and said, " Can I depend on you ? " 
 
 " Si Signore, for anything I can do with propriety." 
 
 " I will ask nothing else." 
 
 " What is the first thing ? " 
 
 " To see Vincenzi, or Padre Jaudan." 
 
 At the latter name, the officer started. 
 
 " Do you know who Padre Jaudan is, Signore ? " 
 . < Yes " 
 
 " Enough remain here for a minute." 
 
 The officer disappeared through a narrow passage, and 
 returning again in a few moments, beckoned Burleigh to 
 follow him. 
 
 They proceeded some thirty yards by a winding way, 
 when the officer gave three taps on a door. It opened 
 an inch or two. 
 
 " Is he here 1 " 
 
 " Si Reverenza"
 
 72 BURLE1UH WITH THE JESUITS. 
 
 41 Bring him in." And Burleigh entered, as the door 
 closed, leaving the officer outside. 
 
 " You wish to see Mr. Vinconzi 1 " said Jaudan, in 
 good English. Burleigh nodded assent. 
 
 " Can you not do your business with me 1 " 
 
 " I must, sir, if I cannot see Mr. Vincenzi himself; but 
 as it is a matter which concerns him and his daughter 
 most deeply, it would be better if I could see him. I 
 have known them in New York, and by accident, I have 
 learned their presence in Genoa, and that both are in 
 danger." 
 
 " Can you assist them to escape ? " 
 
 " I can, sir ; but I should not hope to succeed if I were 
 imprudent enough to tell my plan to a man I never saw 
 before." 
 
 " I applaud your discretion, Mr. Burleigh." 
 
 The speaker stepped to the side of the room, and lift 
 ing a heavy piece of antique arras from the wall, Vincenzi 
 himself appeared. 
 
 " My dear Stanhope," he cried, " these are times of 
 peril. Will you forgive me for so much caution ? You 
 have been conversing with my best friend, Padre Jau 
 dan." 
 
 " Don't apologize, Mr. Vincenzi," said Burleigh, as he 
 bowed with respect to both. " By means of a flower- 
 girl I have learned that Genevra is in the Sacred Heart.
 
 GENEVRA IN DANGER. 73 
 
 I learned also that she was in danger ; and the girl 
 bore my message to her. I have just received her 
 answer." 
 
 He offered it to Vincenzi, who seized it nervously, and 
 read it in a low tone to Padre Jaudan, who immediately 
 inquired 
 
 " If it should be necessary for our friends to leave sud 
 denly (and perhaps for their greater security, as well as 
 my own, I might accompany them), what is your plan 
 for the departure ? " 
 
 " A good one, I think, and it is perfectly arranged," re 
 plied Burleigh. " The Stormy Petrel, a fast American 
 clipper, is in port. I know the captain well. He has 
 promised to be ready to sail to-night, the instant we all 
 get on board. I intend to go myself; for with this vessel 
 we shall have a comfortable and rapid voyage. There 
 may be some difficulty about the manifest for passengers, 
 passports, &c." 
 
 " I think that can be easily arranged, Mr. Burleigh ; 
 for all of you, being American citizens, have a right to go. 
 And as for myself," he added, " I will undertake to get 
 on board in time. The chief difficulty will be in getting 
 Genevra there safely." 
 
 " Padre, my young friend Burleigh is true, discreet, and 
 daring. Let us trust Genevra to him," said Vincenzi. 
 
 Hesitating a moment (for his keenest apprehensions 
 4
 
 74 HOW TO RESCUE HER. 
 
 were aroused, though only for an instant) and thinking 
 to himself, " This will make no difference now, and I can 
 take care of the future," Jaudan remarked 
 
 "You are right, my friend. A good Providence is 
 watching over us. Mr. Bur?eigh, what means do you pro 
 pose, to take Geneva safely from the Convent, and place 
 her on board the ship ?" 
 
 " How I may be admitted to the Convent, you best can 
 tell, Father," replied Burleigh. " Secure that, and I'll 
 answer for the rest." 
 
 " It is well," was Jaudan's reply, as he took from his 
 bosom a small Maltese cross, of curious device ; " this will 
 admit you ; but, for God's sake, don't let it leave your 
 hands till you see the Lady Abbess herself. After you 
 have conversed with her, she will manage the rest in her 
 own way. Here, also, is a card, which you will present 
 at the gate of the Convent ; it will inform the Lady 
 Abbess that a messenger from me is in waiting." 
 
 " At what hour should I be there, Father ?" 
 
 " I would be hi the neighborhood early, and watch my 
 chances. I think no .attempt will be made on the Sacred 
 Heart until to-morrow ; but the spies of the Eevolution- 
 ists will most likely be lurking about." 
 
 " I will take this course. All my other work will be 
 done at three o'clock, when I am to meet Captain Stewart 
 fit the Croce di Malta. I should be glad, after that
 
 THE BLESSING OF THE JESUIT. 75 
 
 hour, to communicate with you again, to inform you that 
 every obstacle has heen overcome, except the rescue of 
 Genevra." 
 
 " Where shall 1 have a messenger waiting for you, at 
 three o'clock, exactly ?" 
 
 "At the Grace di Malta." 
 
 " What is the number of your room ?" 
 
 " Seventy-six." 
 
 " He shall be there at three, precisely, and you will 
 recognise him by his holding a grape-leaf between the 
 thumb and fore-finger of his right hand. He will proba 
 bly be a handsome boy about sixteen. He may also 
 bring a message from us." 
 
 " With God's good blessing then," exclaimed Vincenzi, 
 " we may hope, all of us, to be safely on board the Stormy 
 Petrel before midnight." 
 
 " We'll try it," said Burleigh, as an expression of con 
 fident resolution deepened the glow on his fine face. " 
 
 " God and all his good angels go with you, my noble 
 child of Washington," exclaimed Jaudan. 
 
 Three taps on the door by the Padre were instantly 
 returned. 
 
 "Once more, farewell!" he said, as he extended his 
 hand to Burleigh, who grasped it warmly. Stanhope's 
 remaining hand had already been seized by Vincenzi, 
 who bade him God speed. Closing the door for an 
 instant, Burleigh's last words, addressed to Jaudan, 
 were:
 
 76 A HELPER. 
 
 " Can I trust this officer, Father ]" 
 
 "All right." 
 
 " Can he be spared to help me ?" 
 
 "A good idea." 
 
 Jaudan stepped to the door, and whispered a word in 
 the officer's ear. 
 
 " Farewell, Mr. Burleigh. Yon will be the very Che 
 valier Bayard of modern heroism."
 
 ROOM 76. 77 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 ATTEMPT TO SAVE GENEVRA. 
 
 O\ reaching the door hy which* they entered the Con 
 vent, the officer said to Burleigh : "Signore, I am now 
 under your absolute orders. How can I serve you 1 ?" 
 
 " Be at room 76, in the Croce di Malta, at three o'clock 
 to-day." 
 
 " I shall he there at the instant. Let us separate at 
 the door ; and you go out first ; addio." 
 
 In returning by the shortest route to his hotel, Burleigh 
 was obliged to pass the old Bank of St. George, which, 
 at that time, was used as the Custom House. While 
 threading his way through the crowd, he suddenly felt an 
 energetic hand laid on his shoulder. 
 
 " Well, my boy," said a voice, well recognised. 
 
 " God bless you, Captain ! how do you prosper ?" 
 
 " Tip top ! As good luck would have it, I found every 
 one of my ship's company on board, except the cook. He 
 had just pulled off, but I overhauled him before he got 
 ashore, and gave him five hundred francs, to lay in the
 
 78 THE SHIP'S PAPERS. 
 
 few stores we may possibly need. This addition will 
 make us comfortable ; for you know that the Stormy Petrel 
 carries a pretty good larder. Why, Burleigh, we shall 
 live like game chickens." 
 
 " No danger on that score, Captain. But how is it 
 with the ship's papers'?" 
 
 " All right, except this awkward business of the mani 
 fest for passengers. I think, however, we can manage 
 that, at the last minute. A few ounces of gold, and a 
 bold stroke or two, will put us through. And, now we 
 have met, let me tell you that you need not look for me 
 at three o'clock, unless something has gone wrong" 
 
 " I shall be at the hotel at three ; but I shall not wait 
 long, as I shall want all the time at my disposal, to get 
 Vincenzi's daughter from the Convent, and on board the 
 Stormy Petrel." 
 
 " When may I look for you 1" 
 
 " From an hour after dark, until you see me." 
 
 " I shall be there. After four o'clock I shall not leave 
 the deck." 
 
 They bade each other farewell. Burleigh went again 
 to his room, and taking out his watch, found, to his amaze 
 ment, that it had just struck twelve. 
 
 " What shall I do for the next three hours !" he thought. 
 As there was nothing else to do, lie unlocked his trunks, 
 and laying his watch on the table, went to work delibe-
 
 PACKING TRUNKS. 79 
 
 rately to repack them in better order. The time went 
 by very slowly ; and, whenever he looked at his watch, 
 he was surprised to find that, instead of half an hour, he 
 had only been at work from five to ten minutes. 
 
 " I should not much like to live a hundred years in 
 this place," he thought, " if time-pieces go no faster than 
 this ;" and again he worked at his trunks. " What use 
 is there in carrying all this luggage round the world?" 
 he asked himself; " I may scarcely be able to get oil 
 board the ship myself. What am I to do with these 
 trunks? I'll take but one." He selected the largest, 
 and packed away in it only the most indispensable and 
 valuable things he possessed. The generosity of his 
 disposition was here made apparent. At every point of 
 interest in his travels, he had gathered souvenirs for his 
 friends : all these he preserved, except a large and 
 superb mountain crystal, which he had bought of a Greek 
 merchant from the East, and which he had designed to 
 present to his Alma Mater, at Cambridge. " Let it go ; it 
 is too heavy for a man on the run, with the incumbrance 
 of what did I say ? Genevra an incumbrance ! I shall 
 have time to think of that." 
 
 The trunk was packed, and he rang up the servant 
 again, to learn what time it was ; but the clocks went no 
 faster ; so, sitting down to the table, he said, " I will 
 write a letter or two, to let my friends know when and
 
 80 AN IMPATIENT MA.\. 
 
 how to expect me." The letters were written and sealed, 
 and yet it was only two o'clock. He put his watch to 
 his ear once more, but it had not stopped. 
 
 " I believe that brute of a servant is lying to me." 
 
 He looked at the clock in the office of the hotel, 
 and it was exactly one minute after two. He descended 
 to the street, and sought the nearest church tower. It 
 was exactly three minutes after two. Burleigh con 
 cluded that all the clocks must have been set back, and 
 that watches, servants, and the whole town were in a 
 conspiracy against him. " Will you be kind enough 
 to tell me what time it is, exactly, sir ]" he asked of 
 the clerk who received his letters. 
 
 "With pleasure, signore ; it is exactly five minutes 
 after two." 
 
 " That is very singular," said Burleigh. 
 
 The clerk, who did not see anything singular in it 
 at all, thought Burleigh a very eccentric man. Bur 
 leigh wandered around the town, with his watch in his 
 hand, and when the finger pointed to a quarter past two 
 he thought it would not be safe to stay away any 
 longer from his hotel. He determined, however, to 
 return by the Piazza di BancM. There he had one long, 
 full look at the town-clock itself the municipal clock 
 the great clock the clock that regulated all the little 
 clocks the clock that decided the time when a man's
 
 THE HANDSOMK BOY. 81 
 
 head was to be cut off the clock which would no more 
 have thought of going wrong, than the clock on the city- 
 hall of New York would have thought of going right. 
 Burleigh turned away, and, shaking his head, said : 
 
 " There is something very singular in all this. At any 
 rate, I am going back to the Croce di Malta." And when 
 he had arrived there he walked his room for half an 
 hour, in a cold sweat, looking at his watch and opening 
 the door, expecting every moment to see his friend, the 
 officer, and the handsome boy with a grape-leaf between 
 the thumb and fore-finger of his right hand. 
 
 There is an end to all things whose duration is 
 measured by the strokes of a pendulum or the tick of a 
 watch. At length, just as the bells from the towers of 
 the city struck " three," the officer and the handsome 
 boy, were at the door of No. 76. 
 
 " You have come at last, then 1" said Burleigh. 
 
 " The clocks have only just struck three," replied tho 
 officer. 
 
 " Perhaps the time seems long to you, Monsieur,' 1 
 remarked the handsome boy holding up a grape -Jeaf 
 between the thumb and fore-finger of his right hand 
 And he was handsome. His form was graceful but full 
 of voluptuousness; the deep black hair lay in rich 
 masses around his forehead, as he took off his jaunty 
 cap ; and his face betrayed that rich olive complexion 
 
 4*
 
 82 WHO IS HE ? 
 
 which is so seldom seen even in the sweet south of 
 Europe, except under the skies of Andalusia. There 
 was a depth of expression in his intense black eyes, and 
 a glance of innocent satire struggling with geniality, 
 mirth, and passion, that could hardly be restrained. Bur- 
 leigh was struck with his appearance, and, the current of 
 his feelings being suddenly diverted into a new channel, 
 his features relaxed with a smile of curiosity and interest. 
 
 " Oui, petit Monsieur, I think the time-pieces of Genoa 
 are playing the laggard to-day." 
 
 Neither the officer nor the boy seemed to be suspicious 
 of each other. As the former walked to the window, 
 to gaze upon the harbor (and it happened that the 
 first thing he saw was the name of the Stormy Petrel, 
 floating in gold letters, from her top), the boy advanced 
 to Burleigh, and grasping his right hand, looked up 
 with an earnest, passionate, but mirthful glance into his 
 face, and inquired 
 
 " Have I any message to take back to Sant' Ambrogio ?" 
 
 " Only this," replied Burleigh, " that I have seen the 
 captain that you saw the officer here that he will stay 
 with me that everything is going well ; and that I hope 
 to see our friends on board at an early hour to-night." 
 
 ' Is that all, Monsieur ?" 
 
 " Nothing more ; but my best auguries for Padre 
 Jaudan, and Monsieur Vincenzi."
 
 THE CLIPPER'S SIGNAL. 83 
 
 " Oui, Monsieur. But cannot you send some more 
 genial message than that ? I think you would, if I could 
 bear it to the Convent of the Sacred Heart," 
 
 Without waiting for a reply, the beautiful boy glided 
 out of the room, throwing back a kiss, with a weird, elfin 
 glance at the young American. 
 
 " Captain, who the devil is that fellow?" 
 
 " God knows, Signore. He is one of Padre Jaudan's 
 imps, I suppose. But what can I do for you now 
 Signore ?" 
 
 " Everything." 
 
 " The first thing ?" 
 
 " That trunk contains what I shall need on the voyage. 
 Do you see that bright streamer over the American clipper 
 in the harbor ?" 
 
 " Yes, Signore; I have been looking at it." 
 
 " Well, this trunk must go on board that vessel, at all 
 hazards." 
 
 " And the other trunks ?" 
 
 " They contain many things of some value. They are 
 yours. I will call up a servant, and say so." 
 
 It was done. Then the door shut 
 
 " Mitte grazie, Signore. The next thing V 
 
 " Be seated, and J will tell you." 
 
 Burleigh lighted a cigar, and offered one to the officer. 
 
 " You must know my plan."
 
 84 ATTEMPT TO SAVE GENEVRA. 
 
 "Si Signore." 
 
 " Vincenzi's daughter, is in the Convent of the Sacred 
 Heart. I have the signet of Padre Jaudan, without 
 which I could not enter that Convent, except by violence 
 or stratagem. Towards night, I must be there. This 
 card will gain me admission to the Lady Abbess, when, 
 by showing this signet, I can take Genevra away. How 
 can you help me in removing her from the Convent, and 
 getting her on board that American ship ?" 
 
 " Nothing will be easier, Signore, unless the Convent 
 is surrounded by the Revolutionists. In that case, I 
 think we can still succeed ; for I can scale those walls in. 
 the rear by this rope ladder " and he took it from his 
 pocket. 
 
 " You seem to be prepared for any emergency." 
 
 " At least for so simple an affair as we have on hand 
 to-night. It is now only ten minutes after three, and I 
 can put your trunk on board the clipper, and be back 
 in half an hour." 
 
 " I will wait till you come ; and remember, captain, 
 you have only to see me safe through to-night, and your 
 pocket will be heavier in the morning." 
 
 " Signore, my life is in your hands, and you may 
 command it. The men who serve Padre Jaudan, can be 
 trusted by Padre Jauclan's friends."
 
 THE CONVENT OF THE SACRED HEART. 85 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE RESCUE. 
 
 THR officer was as good as his word. He returned sooner 
 than he promised. Together they left the Croce di 
 Malta. Before they stepped into the street, the officer 
 suggested to Burleigh, that for the rest of the day, they 
 should keep somewhat apart, without recognising or 
 losing sight of each other. 
 
 " Stop a moment. As our only object is to rescue the 
 young lady, nothing must stand between us and that. I 
 shall leave you to take the lead, and depend chiefly on 
 your judgment about time and place." 
 
 " Our scheme shall not miscarry, Signer, unless the 
 invincible devil himself gets in our way." 
 
 An hour later, they found themselves in the neighbor- 
 hood of the Sacred Heart. Burleigh went into a caffe, 
 while the officer advanced to explore the ground. It 
 was more than half an hour before he returned, and 
 Burleigh had grown anxious. He had begun to think 
 that Captains of Police were as unreliable as Genoese
 
 86 THE MARITIME ALPS. 
 
 time-pieces. But the officer finally appeared, and stroll 
 ing carelessly into the caffe, without looking at Bur- 
 leigh, ordered a bottle of vino (TAsti. While the host 
 went to the cellar to get it, the officer said to Bur- 
 leigh : 
 
 " I have reconnoitred. Everything around the Con 
 vent is still as death. This quiet cannot last, and it is 
 my opinion we had better do our work at once. For my 
 part, I am fond of broad daylight." 
 
 " What is to be done ?" 
 
 " Go to the gate of the Convent, and you will find the 
 porter's wife at the lodge. She will take the card to tho 
 Lady Abbess, and you will see Her immediately. If, in 
 the meantime, anything happens outside which could 
 give any alarm to the Convent, I shall be found near the 
 lodge. You have only to appear at the gate, and I shall 
 be on hand. You may need some time for the lady's 
 preparations." 
 
 It was a tranquil and beautiful day. The Mediter 
 ranean was sleeping without a ripple. The afternoon 
 shadows were falling from the Maritime Alps, whose 
 sides were tinged with purple, as their summits were 
 tipped with gold. The sky was bending over a scene 
 of unutterable beauty, nor was there a sight or sound 
 which indicated that the venerable old Convent was so 
 soon to be sacked by an infuriated mob.
 
 THE LADY ABBESS. 87 
 
 Burleigh readied the gate, and through its iron bars 
 handed Padre Jaudan's card to the portress. 
 
 " Can you give that at once to the Lady Abbess ?" he 
 demanded. 
 
 " This card, Signorc, entitles you to be admitted within 
 the lodge." 
 
 A few moments later, Burleigh was conducted from 
 the cellar of the lodge, through a subterranean passage, 
 when his guide requested him to hold the lantern and 
 await her return. 
 
 " You are safe, Signorc. I must see if the Lady Abbess 
 is in her secret room." 
 
 In a short time he heard a door grating on its hinges, 
 and the indistinct echo of female whispers. His guide 
 again appeared, and he was conducted into a narrow, 
 but chastely furnished apartment, where he found him 
 self in the presence of a woman of noble appear 
 ance, and still in the prime of life. As he bowed with 
 reverence, the Lady Abbess for it was she addressed 
 him in French. " Monsieur," she said, " was this card 
 all you brought from the Convent of Sant' Ambro- 
 gio?" 
 
 " No, Madame, I bear with me also this Cross." 
 
 The Abbess took it, and scrutinizing it with the vigi 
 lant interest with which we look upon the picture of an 
 absent friend, extended her hand to Burleigh. A genial
 
 88 BURLE1UH IN A CONVENT. 
 
 smile illuminated her face, and seemed to irradiate her 
 entire form. 
 
 " Now, Monsieur, what commission have you to exe 
 cute r 
 
 " Only to remove the young lady called Genevra, and 
 take her on hoard an American vessel this evening, or at 
 some time during the night." 
 
 " May I ask, Monsieur, if you are a countryman of oiir 
 dear Genevra ? " 
 
 " I am, Madame. Our families have for years heen 
 intimate ; and I thank God, if times like these must 
 come for the gentle and the good, that I have this unex 
 pected opportunity of rendering service to those I have 
 known from my childhood. Is Genevra well 1 " 
 
 " Yes, Monsieur. Her sublime spirit is equal even to 
 the terrors of a revolution. She is one of the noblest and 
 most gifted of all the high-born maidens that have been 
 committed to my care ; nor do I find it an easy trial to 
 part with those who are so tenderly and so deeply loved." 
 
 " But, Madame, why can you be so calm, so serene, 
 when you know that you are standing on a precipice, 
 down which you may be hurled in an hour ? " 
 
 " Monsieur," said the Lady Abbess, as she lifted her 
 arm, and raised her eyes to heaven, " I trust that I had 
 learned to bring every thought, power, and feeling, into 
 perfect subjection before I was chosen the Abbess of this
 
 PARTING WITH GRNEVRA. 89 
 
 Convent. It does, indeed, cost a struggle to part with 
 these fair, frail, beautiful beings committed to my charge. 
 But I have already made provision for them. They are 
 all, except Genevra, sent to places of safety. The nuns 
 will remain with me ; and in our little retreat, we will 
 hold out till the last. If infuriated men insist upon the 
 sacrifice, we are ready for it. It will be God's own ap 
 pointment ; but I cannot yet believe that Italy, even in 
 the transports of a revolution, has forgotten what belongs 
 to our sex. In any event, there is high and glorious ex 
 ultation in the thought that we are in God's bright world, 
 and when he calls his children to the celestial home of 
 the Virgin, we will gladly exchange worlds." 
 
 As the Lady Abbess lifted her eyes to heaven, her face 
 wore an expression, which neither painting nor sculpture 
 could portray. All that is great and beautiful in wo 
 man beamed from her countenance. The apartment 
 was lighted only by a single lamp, but Burleigh saw 
 her eyes grow tremulous. 
 
 " It costs me a keen pang to part with Genevra," she 
 added ; " for she is going to your distant country. Her 
 mother, alas ! is no more ; her father cannot long survive ; 
 and only God can protect my Genevra." A shudder 
 passed over her form, and her eyes could no longer 
 restrain, her tears. 
 
 " Pardon me, Monsieur. I do not often yield to such
 
 90 BURLEIGH ALONE IN THE CONVENT. 
 
 feelings ; but crises like these do not often come. The 
 inquiry may not be delicate, but my heart prompts me 
 to ask you one question." 
 
 " Speak, Madame." 
 
 " Providence has, for the moment, committed Genevra 
 to your keeping. Will you assure me, upon your manly 
 honor, that from you, no thought shall enter her mind, 
 which could soil its perfect purity ? " 
 
 " Madame, with all my heart ; and as the good God 
 will judge us both, I swear it." 
 
 The Lady Abbess pressed his hand convulsively, and 
 said, 
 
 " May the Virgin Mother guide you, guard you, and 
 bring you at last to Heaven ! Now, I will see if Gene 
 vra is ready. When will you take her away ?" 
 
 " Madame, would it not be better for her to leave the 
 Convent before it is quite dark in the dusk of the eve 
 ning, and under some disguise ?" 
 
 " Yes ; and the disguise must be perfect. Will you sit 
 till I return ?" 
 
 Burleigh's heart was full ; and when the Abbess left 
 the room, he exclaimed : " Sublime woman ! can it be 
 possible that, in the presence of such a being, or that 
 even near her, wrong could be perpetrated 1 The 
 Jesuits must be better than they are represented." In a 
 moment or two he thought : " Is this but the stolen livery,
 
 GENEVRA AND STANHOPE MEET. 91 
 
 under whose fascination so much damning wrong has 
 been done?" 
 
 He was too excited to sit, and he walked the nar 
 row apartment, distracted with a thousand thoughts and 
 apprehensions. When he strained his ear to listen for a 
 sliding foot-fall, he fancied that he heard the roar of a 
 revolutionary multitude, storming the Convent. And thus 
 the time passed on till he grew so impatient he could 
 endure the suspense no longer. The thought flashed over 
 him like lightning, that he might have been betrayed ! 
 Padre Jaudan might have a motive for preventing his 
 return ; and, as he had used him long enough, and all the 
 preparations of the voyage had been made, he might be 
 able to account to the Captain for his absence, if he 
 did not arrive. His brain reeled. " Oh, God !" he cried, 
 ' if it should be so !" But with the ejaculation the 
 door opened, and the Lady Abbess appeared, accompanied 
 by Genevra. He sprang forward and seized her hand, 
 which he pressed in silence. 
 
 Genevra was habited in a plain dress not likely to 
 attract observation, and her face was hidden by a dark- 
 green veil. She knew she must be discreet, and betray 
 no trace of the passions that had torn her heart for the 
 last few hours. Nevertheless, a tremor, which she could 
 not conceal, shot through every nerve. 
 
 "Mr. Burleigh," she said, addressing Stanhope, " since'
 
 92 GENEVRA'S ESCAPE. 
 
 I am committed to your keeping by our beloved Lady 
 Abbess, I cannot doubt that it is proper for me to go with 
 you. It will not be long before I see my father?" 
 
 " I hope not," Burleigh answered. 
 
 The Lady Abbess bade her farewell, as she pressed 
 her convulsively to her heart, and whispered in her ear : 
 " Remember, you have nothing to love on earth but the 
 Holy Virgin." Then turning to Burleigh, she added, " Yoit 
 will find at the Lodge, a portmanteau, containing all that 
 will be necessary for Genevra on the voyage." 
 
 The hand of Genevra, which the Lady Abbess still 
 held, she gave to Stanhope ; and, with her blessing, they 
 left the apartment. The portress was in the passage, 
 provided with a lantern ; and Genevra, all tears, and half 
 fainting, was led by Stanhope into the outer world. 
 When she was once more under the open sky, she felt 
 like one who has escaped from a coffin, after being buried 
 alive. 
 
 " Oh, Stanhope, how can I ever be grateful enough to 
 you for rescuing me from that living tomb ! " exclaimed 
 the poor girl. 
 
 " My dear Genevra," he answered, " we must think 
 now only of your safety ; and when you are once restored 
 to your father's arms, on the deck of an American ship, 
 mine will be the gratitude that Heaven has made me the 
 instrument of your rescue and happiness."
 
 THA.XKS FOR SUCH A PROTECTOR. 93 
 
 When they readied the Lodge, the portress Lent to 
 kiss Genevra's hand, and give her, her blessing. They 
 had scarcely passed the gate, when Burleigh saw the 
 officer leaning over the wall built against the sea. 
 
 " Now, Genevra, holding my arm, you can probably 
 walk unmolested to the town, where, with the attendance 
 of yonder officer, who accompanied me from Padre Jau- 
 dan, we shall be able to reach the vessel by a small boat 
 from the shore." 
 
 Poor Genevra's heart was so full, and her apprehen 
 sions were so great, that all she could do was to breathe 
 her silent prayer of thanks, for such a protector. With 
 Stanhope by her side, she no longer felt that she was in 
 danger. She clung to his arm with a joyous confidence 
 that she had not felt, during what seemed to her an inter 
 minable period of exile from home, and the objects of her 
 early love. 
 
 The officer took the portmanteau from Burleigh's hand, 
 and followed them at a distance far enough to avoid the 
 observation of the passers-by. Thus they went on for 
 nearly a mile. In the mean time, the fresh air, the 
 presence of her early friend, the prospect of seeing her 
 father, whom she had so seldom seen during her close 
 imprisonment in the Sacred Heart, and, above all, the 
 consciousness of that freedom which the caged bird feels 
 when it lifts its wings, without a bond or fetter, had
 
 94 THE REVOLUTIONISTS FROM THE CITY. 
 
 given to Genevra an exhilaration of feeling, which made 
 her almost wild with joy. 
 
 " Stanhope, I did not suppose I should ever be so 
 happy again. It was not in my prayers, and scarcely 
 was it in my dreams, that you should give me my liberty. 
 Or is it too much to believe, that Heaven has sent you to 
 be my guardian angel, in answer to the prayers of my 
 Sainted mother, who loved you so well 1 " 
 
 " You have not then forgotten, Genevra, when we both 
 stood by her bedside, and she bade you not to forget 
 her counsels and prayers, and besought you to live in 
 the Protestant faith of herself and her fathers ?" 
 
 "No, Stanhope," she added, with the earnestness of 
 woman's confidence, " nor how she charged you to watch 
 over and protect her orphan child." 
 
 " Signore," said the officer, pressing upon their foot 
 steps, "hark!" 
 
 Wild shouts from the distance were heard, and a 
 cloud of dust, near the western gate of the city, rose into 
 the air. 
 
 "It is well that we started in time, for they are on 
 their way to the Convent," said the officer. " Our only 
 chance of escape now, is by a fisherman's boat. Before 
 they come in sight, we can disappear by that stairway 
 yonder, which conducts to the beach beneath. "We will 
 put out to sea, and although we may have some difficulty
 
 THE OPEN BOAT AT SEA. 95 
 
 in entering the harbor after we have passed the light 
 house, yet it will have grown dark, and all the chances 
 will be in our favor. The Stormy Petrel lies near the 
 mouth of the harbor." 
 
 They turned to descend by the stairway, as Genevra 
 clung closer to the arm of Stanhope. Two or three 
 boats, which had been drawn up from the water, were 
 lying on the sand. 
 
 " See here, my good fellow," shouted the officer to 
 a fisherman who was lying listlessly in the bow of his 
 boat, " can you pull us round to the Lantern V 
 
 " Servitor eumilissimodi Vostra Signoria," he answered, 
 not daring to refuse obedience to a man who wore the 
 uniform of a capo di polizia. 
 
 " Let us be off at once, then," said the officer. Stanhope 
 and Genevra seated themselves in the stern, as the officer 
 lent a hand to the Barcarole ; and together, by wading in 
 the water for some distance, the boat was cleared, and 
 they both jumped in. 
 
 " Ora, avanti" 
 
 In an instant the Barcarole sprang to his oars, and the 
 boat shot out upon the glassy sea. Neither of the party 
 yet felt secure ; but so vigorously did the brawny fisher 
 man ply his oars, that ten minutes were enough to place 
 them almost beyond the reach of danger from the shore, 
 while the heavy clouds which rolled down from the
 
 96 THE HOWLING OF THE MOB. 
 
 Apennines shut out the last rays of the sun, and made 
 their security complete ; at least from the malignity of 
 human passion. Still, from the distance, the roar of 
 infuriated thousands came every moment nearer, while 
 the little boat's company heard distinctly those words 
 which went with such terror to Genevra's heart 
 " Abasso i Getiuiti" 
 
 " You see, Signor, that we were right in making our 
 hay while the sun shone." 
 
 " Yes, officer," replied Burleigh ; " and you will recol 
 lect, that in the beginning, I told you I should rely upon 
 your judgment." 
 
 " Where are they going ?" demanded Genevra. 
 
 " To the place we have just left," replied Burleigh. 
 
 "And will they sack the Convent, Stanhope 1 ?" 
 
 " That was the danger I wished to save you from, Ge 
 nevra." 
 
 " What will become of the Lady Abbess, and the poor 
 Sisters ?" 
 
 " God knows ! The Italians have in this revolution 
 everywhere been led by men of character, and they will 
 not stain their triumph, I hope, by outrages upon defence 
 less women. That work they will leave to the Austrians. 
 The Sisters will, doubtless, be allowed to fly ; but the 
 towers of that Convent must come down." 
 
 " It has been a sanctuary, Stanhope, for many a
 
 THE VEIL DRAWX ASIDE. 97 
 
 broken heart ; and when all other thoughts but that of 
 heaven have left the soul, it is a refuge for the bereaved 
 and helpless. The system is a bad one, but the life of 
 the Convent has its consolations." 
 
 " Now for the light-house, Barcarole ; you have gone 
 oiTt to sea far enough." 
 
 " Si Signore," was the obedient reply to the officer. 
 
 Looking in the direction of the land, the revolutionary 
 procession was dimly seen pressing along the road 
 towards the Convent ; but they were soon lost to view, 
 as the boat shot by the little fortress which guards the 
 outer approach to the harbor of Genoa. With a feeling of 
 security for the success of his undertaking, which Bur- 
 leigh had not before experienced, he passed his arm gently 
 round Genevra's waist, and drew her closer to his side. 
 
 " My dear Genevra, you forget fhat I have not yet 
 seen your face. This ugly veil has served its mission 
 very well ; may I draw it aside ?" He suited the action 
 to the word. Just at that moment the dark shadow of 
 the cloud which was sweeping over the sea passed away, 
 and the moon cast its silver light over the waters. Bur- 
 leigh, gazing upon the blushing face of Genevra, said : 
 " I expected such a face, but, Genevra, is your heart un 
 changed ?" The warm pressure of her hand sent that 
 thrill of ecstasy to his soul which, in the longest exist 
 ence, man never feels with the same intensity but once. 
 
 5
 
 98 ALL ON BOARD THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 A few moments later, the boat glided noiselessly round 
 the western mole, and a few strokes of the oars brought 
 it to the side of the " Stormy Petrel." 
 
 "What boat is that ?" inquired the Captain, in a low 
 tone, bending over the side. 
 
 "Burleigh." 
 
 " Drop back a little to the ladder." 
 
 The Captain stepped down, and taking Genevra by the 
 arm, conducted her up the side. 
 
 " It is it is; come to my arms thank God!" ex 
 claimed Vincenzi. 
 
 " Farewell, officer. You have done your work like a 
 man and a friend," said Burleigh, as he shook his hand 
 while they were standing in the boat. " Here is my 
 purse." 
 
 " You have acted like a prince, Signore, for you have 
 more than redeemed your word. My pocket is heavier 
 before morning ; but I must not leave you yet. First 
 ascertain if your party are all on board, and if the ship 
 has her clearance to leave any hour you please during 
 the night." 
 
 Burleigh ran up the side whispered with the Captain, 
 and went down again. 
 
 " No ; the manifest of the passengers could not be had ; 
 but the Captain thinks we can give them the slip in the 
 course of an hour or two."
 
 THE DAY NEARLY WO.\. 99 
 
 " He must be careful, or his first movement will be 
 signalled from the guard-boat, and ten to one he'll get a 
 shot into him. At all events, I'll stay around till I see 
 you fairly under way." 
 
 " Farewell then, my noble fellow. One more grasp of 
 your hand." 
 
 " Long may you live, Signorc, and never get in a worse 
 scrape than this." 
 
 " Long may you live, my go<M fellow ; and may 
 Liberty come at last to your beautiful country." 
 
 " We'll hope for that ever." 
 
 The officer pushed off, and the boat drifted astern; 
 The Captain seized his hand as he was coming over 
 the side, and with nnfeigned joy exclaimed 
 
 "By Jove, we have nearly won the day and you 
 ought to have seen the old cook come off with his stores. 
 I tell you, Burleigh, we shall live like game chickens." 
 
 Burleigh, who cared less about what the cook had 
 brought off, than that they should all get off themselves, 
 inquired who had come on board. 
 
 " Why, the young lady's father, and a tall splendid 
 looking gentleman, by the name of Count something. I 
 don't know who he is, but Vincenzi says it is all right, 
 and that he is a friend of yours." 
 
 Burleigh, who knew that it must be Jaudan, replied, 
 " He is it is all right. Where is the young lady ? "
 
 100 ONE WORK MESSAGE FHO.M SHORE. 
 
 " She has retired to the cabin." 
 
 " Where is my friend, the gentleman ? " 
 
 " I do not know. He was here on the deck a minute 
 ago." 
 
 As Burleigh turned to search for him, Jaudan 
 stepped from behind the main-mast, where he had 
 been standing in the moonlight, without casting a 
 shadow on the deck, and taking Burleigh's hand 
 pressed it earnestly. * 
 
 " This has been most admirably managed, my dear 
 sir. Did you escape from the Convent before the mob 
 reached it ? " 
 
 " Yes, Padre." 
 
 " If you please, while I am on this ship, I am no longer 
 Padre. What said the Lady Abbess 1 " 
 
 " She was serene and self-possessed, in full view of the 
 approaching danger." 
 
 " Like herself. I think, in spite of everything, that 
 she and the Sisters of the Convent are safe ; but perhaps 
 I shall know shortly." 
 
 " How sir ? for we shall soon be under way." 
 
 " Not yet," exclaimed Jaudan, with agitation. " I 
 must receive one more message from shore before the 
 vessel starts." 
 
 Their conversation had been in English, and the Cap 
 tain interrupted them by saying
 
 A MINUTE OR TWO, PERHAPS. iOl 
 
 " How long must we wait for that message, Count ? 
 for we must not stand on ceremony now. I expected 
 some of those accursed port wardens would have been 
 on board before this. I have no intention of pulling up 
 my anchor." 
 
 " What then 1 " inquired Burleigh. 
 
 " "Why, cut loose. My tackle works bad, and if I set 
 all hands to weighing that anchor, we shall have twenty 
 port wardens under our bow in five minutes ; I can't de 
 pend on the wind either. There's not enough to keep 
 the sails full." 
 
 " What time will you give us ? " anxiously inquired 
 Jaudan. 
 
 " Give ? Why, a minute or two, perhaps, or less," said 
 the Captain, as he hurried forward to issue some orders 
 to his men. Jaudan hastened to the starboard side, and 
 bent over as if through the darkness he were looking 
 for some one coming. Burleigh, who perceived his 
 anxiety, followed him. 
 
 " Who are you looking for t" he demanded. 
 
 "For a messenger from the Lady Abbess the last 
 link that binds me to Europe," he exclaimed, with 
 impatience. 
 
 The Captain then came up, and striking his hand upon 
 Burleigh's shoulders, said 
 
 " The officer who came with you in the boat, is asking
 
 102 HANCOCK, CUT AWAY. 
 
 for you over the ship's side ; I don't perfectly understand 
 him. Come quick." 
 
 They rushed to the spot. 
 
 " What is it, officer ?" 
 
 " You must be off now, or you will have the spies 
 of the Revolution after you. They believe that the 
 General of the Jesuits is on board, and attempting to 
 make his escape. They have, moreover, gained to their 
 side every battery on the shore. In less than ten 
 minutes they will be here with their boats ; and if 
 they shoot a rocket into the sky, your ship will be 
 sunk." 
 
 Burleigh immediately translated these words to the 
 Captain, who said quickly to his first mate 
 
 " Hancock, cut away." 
 
 Jaudan, who had understood every word of the conver 
 sation, was in a tremor of excitement. Rushing to the 
 starboard side, he recognised a well-known voice. 
 
 " Signore ?" 
 
 " I am here," said Jaudan, casting a line over the side 
 of the ship, and holding it firmly, while a boy grasped it, 
 and leaped upon the deck. The Padre folded him in his 
 arms. 
 
 " Quick work now, my men," cried the Captain. 
 
 The jib of the Stormy Petrel had already caught the 
 breeze, which turned her prow just far enough to clear
 
 THE CLIPPER PUTS TO SEA. 103 
 
 the Mole. Her mainsail flew to tlie mast head, like the 
 wing of a bird, and she darted through the waters. 
 
 "Down with that light on the bow!" exclaimed the 
 Captain. " Do you want to set up a target for those 
 sons-of-guns on shore ?" 
 
 At every fresh puff of the wind, the Clipper responded 
 by an electric spring. Sail after sail went up, and it 
 seemed that the Stormy Petrel would get to sea un 
 observed. But suddenly a light from the Battery flashed 
 over the port, and a cannon shot struck the water not 
 ten fathoms forward of the clipper's bow. 
 
 " Starboard your helm," shouted the captain. 
 
 " Aye, aye, sir." 
 
 " So steady " 
 
 " Steady, sir." 
 
 This brought the Clipper within the narrowest range 
 of the Battery bows on to sea. 
 
 Another flash lit up the port, and a twelve-pound shot 
 went through the mainsail. 
 
 " Go into the cabin, Burleigh, for God's sake, and tell 
 them to lie down flat, so that they won't be raked," and 
 the Captain gave his orders in quick succession. 
 
 The Clipper was now springing before the wind, which 
 had freshened, and she was making her twelve knots. 
 
 " Egad, Burleigh, are you out here again ? You are 
 good pluck."
 
 104 A SHOT THROUGH THE MAIXSAIL. 
 
 " The best part of it is, I found our friends enjoying 
 themselves so well in the cabin, I thought it best not 
 to scare them ; so I did not tell them to lie down at 
 all." 
 
 " Good boy ! There's another ; the scoundrels ! 
 What business have they to fire their awkward shot into 
 my Clipper 1" 
 
 The last shot struck just astern, but it sent a shower 
 of spray even ahead of the Clipper itself. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! That tells better," said the Captain, and 
 with a sneer he added, " fire away your pop-guns. You 
 can't catch the Stormy Petrel. So much for George 
 Stearman." 
 
 Shot after shot was fired, with no effect; and, at last, 
 telegraphed by a blaze of light, the Battery rained in 
 a whole shower upon the wake of the vessel. But the 
 Stormy Petrel was far beyond their reach. 
 
 " Mr. Hancock, set all taught. Steward, what are you 
 doing around here, with your hands in your pockets? 
 Bring out two bottles of brandy. Now, boys, we'll drink 
 to the Stormy Petrel.'' 
 
 A strong set of fellows mustered abaft the mainmast. 
 When their glasses were filled, 
 
 "Hurrah for the Stormy Petrel !" cried their Captain. 
 
 " We are fairly at sea, then," said Jaudan, as he glided 
 out of- the cabin door.
 
 THE CITY OK PALACES. 105 
 
 " Yes," answered the Captain, " with only one shot, 
 and that through the mainsail." 
 
 Padre Jaudan began to understand what he had 
 not comprehended while he was in the cabin ; and look 
 ing back upon the fast retreating City of Palaces, he 
 saw nothing through the gloom but the revolving light 
 of the Lanterna.
 
 106 THK STUAITS OF GIBRALTAR. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE VOYAGE. 
 
 THE breeze winch took the Stormy Petrel to sea, 
 freshened into an eastern gale, which swept her to 
 Gibraltar in three days. On the afternoon of the third 
 day, she seemed to have passed out of the storm ; but 
 still under, what the old sailors yet call, " a ten-knot 
 breeze," she was shooting by the coast of Granada, at 
 the rate of sixteen miles an hour. The warm sun came 
 out upon the still dripping ship, as it shines upon the 
 wet feathers of the wild eagle when he soars above the 
 tempest, to dry his wings in the sun. 
 
 Who, that has been tossed in a wild sea-tempest for 
 days and nights, does not remember the ecstasy he felt 
 when he found the genial sunbeams coming into his 
 stateroom from the deadlight in the deck ; and his ship 
 subside from the roar and plunge of the billow, into 
 the easy gliding motion the steady breeze gave to her 
 in calm water ? 
 
 Our little band of fugitives, who bore with them such
 
 THE JOYOUS CARLO. 107 
 
 etrangc fortunes for themselves, and so many others, had 
 been as closely imprisoned in their berths from the begin- 
 ning of the voyage, as though they had been confined in 
 the cells of a Convent. 
 
 Captain Stewart, who had none too much charity for 
 sea-sick people, now threw the cabin doors wide open, 
 and in a loud voice, as he rapped at the doors of the 
 staterooms one after another, cried ' Come forth. The 
 storm is over ; we are in smoother water ; and you must 
 come out now, if you wish to see Gibraltar. I can't 
 stop the Stormy Petrel for people who lie abed at this 
 j-ate." 
 
 Mr. Vincenzi and his daughter occupied two rooms on 
 the larboard side; while of the two on the starboard, 
 Burleigh and the Captain occupied one, and Jaudan with 
 the boy Carlo, another. Burleigh was the first to ap 
 pear ; but he had hardly walked twice across the deck, 
 before Carlo came bounding towards him with the exube 
 rant joy of youth, exclaiming 
 
 " Oh ! Monsieur, are you not glad this dreadful storm 
 is over ] See how beautiful is the sky, and the water, 
 and those green lull sides." 
 
 "Glad I am, my dear fellow," responded Burleigh, 
 holding forth both hands, which Carlo frankly took, as 
 he shot one of those strange glances into Burleigh's face 
 "And what have you been doing, Carlo, ever since we
 
 108 GOING TO LIVE IN THE MOON. 
 
 left Genoa?" lie added, as lie pinched the boy's round 
 chin, and brought the dimples to his cheeks. 
 
 " Doing, Monsieur ? " answered Carlo, as he released 
 Burleigh's hand, and gave it a fretful toss in his playful 
 ness. " What do you suppose, Monsieur ? I have been 
 busy thinking where we are going all the time that I 
 have not been kept busy in holding myself in my berth. 
 Do you know, Monsieur 1 " 
 
 " We are going to live in the moon. You have always 
 seen it set in the West. It sets just outside of Gibraltar 
 here, on a beautiful island." 
 
 " Fie ! Monsieur, that story isn't fit for a toy book. 
 Do tell me." 
 
 " Do you really want to know, Carlo ? " 
 
 " Yes, Monsieur, I do really want to know." 
 
 " Well then, we are going where Columbus went, and 
 we shall live in the gold mines, where the fairies have 
 built golden palaces on the shore of the sea, among the 
 Peri of the ocean away far, far, away from the great 
 world you have left." 
 
 " I shall hate you, Monsieur, if you tease me ii} that 
 way. I am no enfant to be amused with such fan 
 tasies." 
 ' " Then you really want to know 1 " 
 
 " Yes I do, Monsieur," said Carlo, with a pert and 
 half-indignant tone. " But I'll not ask you again,"
 
 FANTASTIC STORIES ABOUT NEW YORK. 109 
 
 Burleigh patted Carlo under the cliin, which brought 
 back his good-nature at once. Then, observing for the 
 first time the wavy, dark line on his upper lip that 
 bow of promise which paints itself so faintly at a certain 
 period of life, but speaks so confidently of the future to 
 come he continued, as Carlo took his hand, and drew 
 nearer and more confidingly towards him. 
 
 " We are going to New York, a great city five times 
 as large as Genoa where we have no king, no tyranny, 
 no revolutions ; where the people are all happy where 
 everybody is rich. Carlo, it is a great and beautiful 
 country. The Atlantic Ocean lies on the east side, and 
 the Pacific on the west." 
 
 " Why, Monsieur, that must be a dreadful country to 
 live in." 
 
 " For what reason ?" 
 
 " Oh, Monsieur, who will work for you if everybody 
 is rich ? and what good is there in a country so vast that 
 you never could travel through it ? You say that every 
 body is happy there. Ah, Monsieur ! I don't believe 
 there is such a country. Even I am unhappy some 
 times," added Carlo, with an affected sigh. 
 
 " You rogue, I don't believe it." 
 
 " Nor do I believe any of your fantastic stories about 
 New York but here comes the Captain, he will tell me 
 where we are going ;" and Carlo rail forward and looked
 
 110 GOING TO AMERICA. 
 
 bewitchingly into the Captain's face, as lie said, in Eng 
 lish : 
 
 " Wont you do me a favor ?" 
 
 " I will, certainly." 
 
 " Tell me, then, where we are going." 
 
 " I thought we were going to the devil last night, but 
 I think to-day we are going to New York." 
 
 " "We are really, then, going to New York ]" 
 
 " I can't say for certain, but there is a very strong 
 probability of it." 
 
 " Is it a beautiful place ?" 
 
 " Well, it will be, if they ever get it done." 
 
 " I don't like the Americans," said Carlo, as he skip 
 ped away from the Captain's side, and ran towards the 
 cabin door, where he saw Jaudan. The Padre had made 
 a careful toilet ; he was now dressed in a fashionable suit 
 of black, with a light Spanish mantle thrown over his 
 shoulders. With a beaming face, he stretched forward 
 his hands to greet Carlo, who said : 
 
 " Eon jour, Monsieur. How has the Count been since 
 we gave the slip to our friends who manned the Genoese 
 battery ?" 
 
 " Well enough, Master Carlo. At all events, I am 
 glad to find you in such fine spirits. Ah ! here is oiir 
 friend, Mr. Burleigh. What a splendid day we have, 
 Sir!"
 
 THE MOUNTAINS OF GRANADA. Ill 
 
 " Glorious. You are looking well, Count, after the 
 storm." 
 
 " Thank you, I am perfectly recovered. I hope you 
 have not suffered much, Mr. Burleigh ? " 
 
 " To tell the truth, Count, I have had my full share ; 
 but this exhilarating air sweeps every sad thought away, 
 and makes me feel an ecstasy I scarcely knew before." 
 
 " Do you recognise this coast, and the mountains 
 beyond, Mr. Burleigh 1 " 
 
 " Not the mountains ; and I know only that this is 
 the coast of Spain." 
 
 " Those are the mountains of Granada, and how rich 
 are the associations ! The lost kingdom of the Moors, 
 and all the souvenirs of the power and glory of Isabella, 
 the Catholic ! " Carlo, who still retained the hand of 
 Jaudan, and was gazing intently upon the fast receding 
 shore, and the purple mountains, whispered suddenly 
 
 " Padre, it seems to me that I have seen all this be 
 fore, or I have dreamed of something like it. What 
 makes the name of Granada recall the time when I was 
 a little child; and a beautiful young lady who used to 
 love me ? " 
 
 Jaudan squeezed Carlo's little hand violently, and 
 drawing him away to the side of the vessel, with a tre 
 mulous voice, said, 
 
 " It was a dream, Carlo. You never saw this scene ;
 
 112 CARLO AND PADRE JAUDAN. 
 
 and, undoubtedly, a great many beautiful young ladies 
 loved you when you were a little child. But you for 
 get how many times I have reproved you for inquisi- 
 tiveness. Now, I wish you to tell me more in detail of 
 your last visit to the Lady Abbess." 
 
 " Oh, Padre. You saw how I had been weeping when 
 I caught the rope and sprang on board. I shall never, 
 never forget that farewell ! The Lady Abbess wrung her 
 hands and wept so over your letter, and said that she 
 had not a moment to reply, but would write to you if 
 her life was spared ; that she and the Sisters would take 
 refuge in the Chapel of the Virgin, and, if they were 
 sacrificed, it should be at the steps of the altar ; that for 
 herself she cared nothing, for the charm of life she had 
 long ago parted with, but for the poor Sisters she should 
 act as wisely as possible." 
 
 " Did she think they were in absolute danger ?" 
 
 " No, Padre ; she was almost sure no harm would 
 befall them, as the only object of the people was to 
 break up the Institution ; and they woiild only have to 
 seek a home somewhere else." 
 
 " Yes ! I am confident of that, Carlo. These Eepub- 
 licans are fanatics, but not utterly soulless. What did 
 the Lady Abbess say to you 1 Did she not feel some 
 regret at parting with her pet Carlo 1" added Jaudan, in 
 a tone which betrayed a nervous curiosity.
 
 THE YOUTH THE SACRIFICE. 113 
 
 For a moment Carlo could not reply ; liis bosom 
 heaved, his lips trembled ; then hastily withdrawing his 
 hands from Jaudan's, he buried his face in the Padre's 
 mantle, and gave way to a wild burst of tears. 
 
 Jaudan's cheek turned pale, and large drops stood on 
 his forehead. The struggle in his own heart was terrible. 
 His beautiful, romantic youth, the sacrifice of all the 
 affections of his manhood, and the agony inflicted on 
 other hearts- all, all for the one ambition, at last attained 
 how had it compensated him ? Was he not now a wan 
 derer on the earth, bearing with him this tender and 
 affectionate child, whose life was a mystery, and perhaps 
 a reproach 1 But the Jesuit conquered the man. He 
 allowed Carlo's grief to have its Avay : and a few mo 
 ments after, he said, with some severity 
 
 " Fie ! fie ! Carlo, these people will think I am punish 
 ing you ; do not act like a girl, and make a silly scene. 
 I must know what the Lady Abbess said to you : Did 
 she give yon nothing]" 
 
 " Oh, Monsieur f She could not speak farewell to 
 me ! She held me in her arms ; she pressed me to her 
 bosom ; she kissed my forehead, my eyes, my lips, my 
 hands ; she wet my face with tears ; she called me her 
 child, her own loved one ; and "she implored me never to 
 forget her. She put this little gold ring, with its black 
 ribbon, about my neck, and charged me to keep it
 
 114 HAVE I A MOTHER? 
 
 always ; she said I might some day know what the 
 cipher on it meant. And, then, as the shouts of a great 
 mob of people were heard on the road to Genoa, she 
 opened the door and thrust me out. Then 1 am sure 
 she fainted, for I heard her fall. I tried to open the 
 door again, but could not ; and s>o 1 ran down the hill as 
 fast as I could. Some people stopped me, and pulled 
 off my cap, but they said, ' It is only a frightened, crying 
 boy. Let him go ;' and so I got safely to the ship." 
 
 Jaudan breathed freer again, though his eyes were 
 misty, and feelings which he could not restrain, were 
 visible on his face. Carlo raised his head, and seeing 
 that look of sympathy, his tears fell afiesh. 
 
 "Oh, Monsieur!' 1 he said beseechingly, "forgive me 
 that I disobey you; but hare I a mother ? WHERE is 
 my mother ? Have I any parents ? I sometimes have 
 Mich unhappy thoughts !" 
 
 " Carlo," said the Padre, frowning darkly, " this is an 
 interdicted subject between us. I have repeatedly told 
 you that, should a proper time arrive, you will know all. 
 I am sorry that you are unhappy. You have no cause 
 to be so. I am your friend and protector. Be tranquil 
 about the future. Next to the Company of Jesus, you 
 are my chiefest care. Now," he added, as he pressed 
 both his hands kindly, " go to your stateroom, and remain 
 there until you are entirely composed.''
 
 THE GUXS OF GIBRALTAR. 1J/5 
 
 "With a half-smothered sigh, Carlo obeyed, and Jaudan. 
 walking towards the captain, said 
 
 " We must be quite near Gibraltar now, Captain ?" 
 " Yes, Count, we have been in sight of the Rock for 
 some time ;" and after a moment's pause, he continued 
 " Do you see the smoke citrling up its side ?" 
 " Very clearly," Jaudan answered. " What is it ?" 
 " Hark !" said the Captain, as he lifted his hand ; and 
 the roar of cannon came up from the Straits. Gun after 
 gun sent its reverberation over the water, until twenty- 
 one had been fired. 
 
 " That is an Admiral's salute, I should think," said 
 Jaudan. 
 
 Carlo's joyous voice rang out from the cabin doorway ; 
 and as Burleigh turned, he saw Genevra coming towards 
 him. She was someAvhat paler than usual ; but when 
 she caught one look of the tranquil sea, the blue sky, 
 and the glorious mountains that were freshening into the 
 verdure of spring, the color came to her face, and lifting 
 Carlo's hand in hers, she cried 
 
 " Oh ! how free and happy we are now !" 
 " Yes, Mademoiselle ; and a being so beautiful and 
 good as you are, will be happy and free for ever. But I 
 wish you would go and avenge me upon this gentleman. 
 He has teased me so much about New York, and going 
 to the moon, and living in fairy palaces, that I hate him."
 
 116 GENEVRA AND BURLEIGH AT SEA. 
 
 Burleigh had cauglit the form of Genevra as she issued 
 from the cabin. She seemed to his rapt fancy, the ideal 
 of loveliness and beauty, which had hovered over him in 
 a thousand dreams. Advancing towards her, -with even 
 greater embarrassment than Genevra herself showed, he 
 offered her his hand, which she frankly took. 
 
 " Miss Vincenzi," he said, " how radiant you are this 
 evening, and yet you seem to have suffered during the 
 voyage." 
 
 It often happens that the gentle spirit of woman 
 becomes elastic, at those moments when the manliness of 
 the sterner sex seems to melt entirely away. 
 
 " Really, Mr. Burleigh, you pay me no very flattering 
 compliment, when you assume that I have suffered so 
 much. I was just congratulating myself upon my good 
 looks, as I came out of my stateroom. I certainly feel 
 happier than I ever did in my life." 
 
 Poor Burleigh had made a mistake. A man always 
 falls into error, when he falls in love. 
 
 " You are not quite candid, Miss Vincenzi. I did not 
 mean to imply so much." 
 
 "Oh, Monsieur" exclaimed Carlo, with a spice of 
 raillery, " you can talk a great deal better about the 
 moon, and palaces of gold, reflected in the moonlit 
 waters; and your big continent and all that. You 
 can't talk to Mademoiselle. You are too great a man."
 
 AN AXDALUSIAN SUNSET. 117 
 
 Instead of disconcerting Burleigh, this discharge only- 
 restored his self-control. " I see, Miss Vincenzi, that we 
 have, among us, a little imp, who has an amhition to be 
 the marplot of our company : suppose we indulge him." 
 
 " You are very kind, Monsieur" responded Carlo, in 
 ready English, as he walked away, somewhat superbly, 
 towards the bow. Stanhope and Genevra looked on the 
 beautiful shore along which the Stormy Petrel was so fast 
 gliding. Picturesque as that shore was, bathed in the 
 purple light of an Andalusian sunset, how many thoughts 
 of years gone by of hopes long cherished fading, 
 expiring, almost dead but now irradiated with a new 
 morning which spread its rosy light far down the future, 
 came over their hearts. Love is the only passion that 
 discards the common language of men, and when it finds 
 words impotent and meaningless for its expression, 
 silence comes in with its eloquence, which is greater than 
 speech. 
 
 " Stanhope, you can never know what you have done 
 for me, by emancipating me from that dreadful prison." 
 
 " Genevra, you do not, never can, know how deeply I 
 feel, that up to the moment that I had an opportunity to 
 render you a service, how little my life was worth to me. 
 What I have accomplished in setting you free, is the first 
 real action I have performed in my life. The rest has 
 been all dreams."
 
 118 ENTERING THE ATLANTIC. 
 
 The Stormy Petrel was now clearing the Straits, and 
 entering the current which sweeps into the Atlantic, by 
 the base of the Rock of Gibraltar. A massive curtain of 
 saffron hung over the distant waters, behind which the 
 sun was sinking to his ocean bed. It was a scene which 
 grouped around the imagination many of the most 
 striking events of history. Over those same waters, and 
 by the same " Pillars of Hercules," Roman Generals had 
 gone forth to the conquest of Britain, Paul to carry 
 the New Faith, and Columbus to discover a New World. 
 High in those translucent skies, the moon was as 
 cending, and pouring a flood of silver light on the 
 grandest historic scene she illuminated in all her 
 revolutions. 
 
 It was the first tranquil night the voyagers had expe 
 rienced, and even the invalid Vincenzi, who had been at 
 length induced to come upon the deck, to breathe the 
 fresh air as it came in from the bosom of the Atlantic, 
 said, at a late hour, that he would stay a little longer. 
 
 There are moments which seem worth all the struggles 
 of years : but to Stanhope and Genevra, those moments 
 were now prolonged into hours, into which was pressed 
 the bliss of a lifetime. 
 
 " How I rejoice in this blessed hour," said Stanhope. 
 " You may have thought me cold and insensible, Genevra ; 
 but my heart has been too full for utterance. After the
 
 UHNKVRA'S STORY. ll ( ^ 
 
 painful death of your mother, which was so soon followed 
 by your sudden and mysterious departiire, life seemed to 
 lose all its value. I made every effort to trace you. I 
 followed you to Italy but there I lost you. I studied 
 in Germany, and wandered over Europe, restless and 
 unhappy. At last, God, in his goodness, threw the flower- 
 girl across my path. What a providence for us, was that 
 Revolution ! for only through the overthrow of the Jesuits, 
 was the chance given to me, to see you again." 
 
 " Oh, Stanhope ! It was a greater deliverance than 
 you can conceive. I believe it was the intention of my 
 deluded father, to shut me up in that Convent for life ; 
 and to become himself, a member of the Order of the 
 Jesuits. He had already begun to practise some of the 
 rigors and privations of the Society, and although I have 
 seen him only once or twice a month, and sometimes not 
 as often, I feel that he has been weaning himself from 
 me. He tells me I should be happy, if I would give up 
 the world, and devote myself to God. But, Stanhope, I 
 am not a Catholic, nor can 1 ever be one ! I shall adhere 
 to the faith of my poor persecuted mother. Her life was 
 harassed and worn out by those prying, cunning priests. 
 They never left her a moment of rest ; they made my 
 father cold, and often harsh to her ; and I grew up at 
 her side, with a fear and detestation of them, that has 
 become invincible."
 
 120 HOPE FOR THE BE.ST. 
 
 " But do yon not like Padre Jaudan, Genevra ] He, 
 at least, seems good and kind." 
 
 " Yes, he is, when his heart has the sway ; but I tell 
 you, Stanhope, there is nothing not even his own life 
 that he would not sacrifice to Jesuitism. Hearts and 
 souls even, are chaff before this Simoom ambition. I 
 know it is through their wiles that my father is deter 
 mined to sacrifice both himself and me. But, thank 
 Heaven, we have escaped now ; and may the future be 
 more iul! of hope and gladness ." 
 
 " Geuevra, what can be Jaudan's motive for this deep 
 interest in your father and yourself?" 
 
 " Who can tell 1 Perhaps he thinks my father very 
 rich, and he may wish to enrich the society by our influ 
 ence. Indeed, my poor father has become so feeble in 
 body and mind, that he is but a mere machine in their 
 hands." 
 
 " Let us hope for the best, my beautiful Genevra. We 
 are going to a free country, filled with noble hearts ; and 
 although you have no friends on your mother's side to 
 sustain you, and only intriguing priests on your father's, 
 yet, Heaven being my helper, I will defeat their plans ; 
 and, as I had the blessing and approbation of your sainted 
 mother, and of your own dear heart, Genevra, you shall 
 yet be my happy bride in our beautiful New Eng 
 land."
 
 THE CLIPPER REACHES HOME. 121 
 
 Genevra smiled more cheerfully, and pressing Stan 
 hope's hand to her bosom, said with fervor, 
 
 " God grant it, dear Stanhope ; I will still hope ! But 
 the moon is long risen, and my father will be waiting for 
 me. So, good bye, till to-morrow; and if it does not 
 storm, we can enjoy these beautiful moonlights on tho 
 sea." 
 
 " God bless you, dearest. .Repose your heart on me ; 
 and remember, that day and njght, sleeping or waking, 
 you are my sole thought and care." 
 
 They parted at the cabin door. 
 
 The Clipper, which had shot through the gale that 
 drove her from the coast of Italy, struck the verge of 
 another tempest coming from the Bay of Biscay, just as 
 she had cleared the Straits, and was gliding like' an arrow 
 over the scene made eternal in the recollections of men, 
 by the great battle of Trafalgar. She seemed to be in 
 spired with the spirit of the wild bird whose name she 
 bore, as she sprang from billow to billow, cutting the 
 waves into a wake of foam. The captain and his crew 
 were in their element ; the passengers were, most of the 
 time, in their berths. 
 
 After a boisterous but rapid passage, on the 17th day 
 from Gibraltar, the Stormy Petrel once more came in 
 sight of Neversink, passed the Quarantine, and just be 
 fore sunset dropped her anchor off Hoboken. 
 
 6
 
 122 JAUDAN IN HUBERT'S HOUSE. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE JESUITS IN OUR HOMES. 
 
 LATE on the same night, the General of the Company of 
 Jesus was sitting with Hubert in the library of his resi 
 dence, not far from the Cathedral. Bewildered by the 
 strange sights and sounds the alarms of fires, the shout 
 ing of men, and the rushing of engines, the flashing 
 gas-lights, and the wild roar of the great Metropolis 
 of the New World, Carlo had retired to his room, near 
 the spacious chamber where Padre Jaudan was to repose. 
 His couch seemed to rock on the billows, till he grew so 
 weary that he fell asleep ; but before deep slumber 
 came on him, the changes of the sea swept over his 
 fancy, bringing the faces of his companions; but 
 more distinct than, all, the noble form of Stanhope 
 Burleigh ; while through the shadows of the thick 
 gathering night, the deep beaming eyes of Stanhope 
 looked calmly and kindly upon his soul. What could 
 the boy be dreaming of ? 
 
 " Yes, Hubert, I am on solid ground once more, and I
 
 JAUDAN ON NEW GROUND. 123 
 
 do not feel like a stranger. One of the grand attributes 
 of our Order, is to make all the world our country. 
 Every year teaches me more and more profoundly, the 
 philosophy of that great saying of Loyola ' My disciples 
 will die, but my system must live.' " Thus on that 
 first evening spoke Padre Jaudan to Hubert. 
 
 "It has therefore always seemed to me, Padre," 
 answered Hubert, " that after perfect obedience to our 
 superiors, the great lesson the disciple of Ignatius should 
 learn, is to lose sight of the country and the spot of his 
 birth, as we lose sight of the fragment of a wreck on the 
 ocean." 
 
 " Yes, Hubert, we are born on the earth, and educated 
 in the world. The world is our home, and, for all our 
 purposes, there is only one country. But, Hubert, ad 
 mirable as I know your management to have been and 
 I cannot praise it too highly I feel myself on ground 
 somewhat new, as I land upon the shores of this great 
 Republic. I have been more accustomed to monarchical 
 forms of government, as you well know ; and I am fully 
 aware that under a democratic system, like that of the 
 United States, there must be a special adaptation of 
 machinery to accomplish our ends. Here, General 
 although I am, I acknowledge myself uninitiated. I must 
 therefore sit, for a Avhile at least, at the feet of the Gama 
 liel of the Jesuits in the United States."
 
 124 DESCRIPTION OF HUBERT. 
 
 Hubert was a man to whom Jaudau could say this 
 with truth. He was the Gamaliel of American Jesuitism. 
 He was to it in the New World, what Jaudan had been 
 in the Old. They were moulded much alike. Both 
 were born to command. Each was equal to almost any 
 emergency for neither was wanting in resources, and 
 both were always prepared for what was to take place. 
 Physically, they were not unlike. Hubert was not a 
 high-born man ; but he had the best Irish qualities in 
 him, without those defects which so often make a great 
 Irishman an unsuccessful man ; and he had one quality 
 which would go further in the United States than any 
 which Jaudan possessed. It was what every superior 
 Irishman is endowed with electric appreciation of popu 
 lar feeling, and comprehension of popular tendencies. 
 This quality sometimes, it is true, carried Hubert too 
 far ; for in one instance, swept on by the torrent of Irish 
 enthusiasm, he had addressed a great public meeting of 
 his countrymen, as O'Connell used to fire the masses of 
 his countrymen, by the shout of Repeal. On that occa 
 sion, Hubert had, in an imprudent moment, subscribed 
 five hundred dollars for the Rebellion in Ireland, headed 
 as it was by John Mitchell and Francis Meagher. He 
 had, however, taken precaution to qualify the gift, by 
 saying it was to purchase a shield for the Liberator of 
 Ireland.
 
 JAUDAN'S SUPERIORITY. 125 
 
 But, after all, Jaudan had some advantages over 
 Hubert, which, in the long run, were sure to make 
 themselves known. Jaudan never would have addressed 
 an Irish mob at all ; much less would he have been seen 
 in Carroll Hall, surrounded by a reeking mass of men, 
 maddened by bad whiskey, and fired only by the mad 
 der intoxication of cutting Protestant throats. Besides, 
 Jaudan was a high-born man ; by which we mean only 
 this ; that he was born in the establishment of a gentle 
 man a man who had good blood in his veins, and a fine 
 brain in his head (for why is not good blood in a man 
 worth as much as it is in a horse ?) ; a man who was 
 thoroughly illuminated by all the lights of his age ; a 
 good swordsman, a good patriot, a man of learning, a 
 good agriculturist a man who would unsheath his blade, 
 in any good cause ; who would not allow an opportunity 
 to be lost to render a noble service to his neighbor, his 
 friend, or man as man, Jaudan's father was neither poor 
 nor rich in the precise meaning of those terms ; but he 
 never knew the lack of money, of character, of influence ; 
 consequently, he was a man whom everybody respected, 
 whom the good loved and whom the bad feared. With 
 such an origin, Jaudan had been trained in the armies of 
 Europe, and he had a keen sense of worldly honor. Of 
 Hubert's origin little was known. 
 
 Another thing : Much as Hubert had been in Europe,
 
 126 THE GENIUS OF HUBERT. 
 
 he knew nothing about it in comparison with Jaudan. 
 Jaudan had been in America, North and South ; in the 
 West Indies ; in the Pacific Ocean ; all through Asia ; 
 and as for the Continent of Europe, he had mapped it 
 out, studied every controlling mind in it, been intimate 
 with every great man, been all things to all men, and 
 in a sense Paul was not. He was a scholar when he 
 was a boy (which Hubert was not ; for, when a boy, lie 
 was digging with the pick and the spade, that doomed 
 inheritance of the Celtic race). Of course, then, Jaudan 
 was Hubert's superior ; not only by good blood, but by 
 early training, early familiarity with good society and 
 cultivated minds. He had also been familiar through life 
 with the best and worst thoughts, of the best and worst 
 men in Europe. He was, moreover, esteemed by the 
 common opinion of the Jesuits of the earth, as the 
 worthiest successor of Ignatius Loyola. 
 
 Judge, therefore, if it were not a compliment which 
 Jaudan made to. Hubert when he told him that he must 
 come to his feet to learn to be a Jesuit in the United 
 States. It was true, or Jaudan would not have said it to 
 a man like Hubert. 
 
 " Padre, I know you mean to be serious ; but I will 
 dismiss your compliment without thanks ;" and Hubert 
 cast one glance at him, which satisfied Jaudan that he 
 was dealing with a man whom he could not trifle with.
 
 HUBERT GAINS AN ADVANTAGE. 127 
 
 " Hubert, I am uot jesting. I am your General but 
 before I sleep to-night, I wish to know something more 
 about your plan for the conquest of this Republic to the 
 cause of Loyola ; and again I tell you that you have 
 mastered the ground we are now on, while I am ignorant 
 of it. Speak, then ; there must be no child's play be 
 tween us." 
 
 Hubert and Jaudan had crossed swords once they 
 were never to do so again ; because, like men of real and 
 not sham qualities, they understood one another. 
 
 " General, it has been one of the oversights if you 
 will allow me to say so" and Jaudan bowed with the 
 utmost courtesy, " that you and your brethren have been 
 so much occupied in the affairs of Europe, that you have 
 somewhat slighted our sturdy, untiring efforts for the 
 empire of Loyola in this Republic." 
 
 " You are right, Hubert ; we have." 
 
 " You cannot be unmindful of the fact, that I have 
 often invited a more special scrutiny of our American 
 affairs that I have been obliged to create means, where 
 they did not exist, even to keep our system in common 
 activity ; while you know better than I do, that any 
 thing whatever that is common, will not do for the Com 
 pany of Jesus. You cannot have forgotten how many 
 times I have deliberately, and in your own inviolable 
 cypher, spread before you, our emergencies, and received
 
 128 EXECUTIVE POWER. 
 
 no help. Why, even Lambruschini waited six months 
 before His Excellency found time to reply to.my pressing 
 demand for fifty thousand dollars. Metternich himself 
 sent me double that sum, in reply to a casual note, which 
 was delivered to him, under close seal, by one of the 
 American Ambassadors." 
 
 Perhaps more executive power spoke out from Hu 
 bert's face when he was excited, .than could have been 
 seen in the countenance of Jaudan ; for Hubert had not 
 been trained in so severe a school of dissimulation ; and 
 he appeared not to restrain a sense of neglect, perhaps 
 even of wrong, that the General of his Order had not 
 entered more deeply into his plans of action. Hubert 
 had felt, for more than twenty years, while he was strug 
 gling through the doubtful gloom, that he needed more 
 sustaining aid from Rome. Above all, he felt the need 
 of encouragement and sympathy from the General of his 
 Order. Jaudan saw more of Hubert in this conversation, 
 than he had known before ; but, like a complete Jesuit, 
 he did not appear to be surprised. He only added, 
 drawing nearer to Hubert, as he leaned from his 
 chair 
 
 " You do us some injustice, I think, Hubert. You are 
 not quite aware, perhaps, of all the difficulties we have 
 had to contend with in Europe. "We have had forty 
 thrones to prop up, or pxill down ; while you have had
 
 TO HE A JESUIT IN THE UNITED STATES 129 
 
 mere holiday- work here moving on your every-day life 
 of progress, without much intrigue or trouble." 
 
 " Padre, hear me," said Hubert, growing excited, and 
 speaking with some vehemence. " I would undertake 
 the care of a hundred kingdoms, before I would volunteer 
 the management of the greatest -republic on the earth 
 the greatest in history. Republics, Padre, are not the 
 most genial soil to plant our tree in. This has to 
 be done in the dark, even under monarchies ; but here, 
 where everything is intolerable light, from three thou 
 sand newspapers, perhaps you may not be aware of the 
 difficulties we labor under. Padre, Loyola had no con 
 ception of them himself for he did not live in our times 
 -much less did he live in the United States much less 
 still did he dream of such a place as New York." 
 
 Jaudan saw that he was dealing with a man who was 
 more than his match on American ground, Hubert con 
 tinued : 
 
 " I have not fought in Spain, where it was easy to save 
 a recreant Charles Albert, and easier still to die after an 
 engagement of an hour on a battle-field; but I have 
 fought in New York, for twenty thirty years, Padre ; 
 with little help from the Pope, and," he added, tremu 
 lously, " with apparently too little sympathy even from 
 the General of the Company of Jesus." 
 
 Jaudan began to feel somewhat oppressed. It had 
 6*
 
 130 JAUDAN ASSERTS HIS SUPREMACY. 
 
 scarcely occurred to him, during his maturer years, that 
 a mind could come in conflict with his, to disturb its 
 serenity by the mere force of argument, philosophy, or 
 fact. Hubert had gained an advantage. And it is as 
 true of Jesuits as of other commanders and chiefs of the 
 movements or thoughts of the world, that when they 
 meet, there is a pride of opinion, more dear to the heart, 
 and appealing more resistlessly to the sentiment of 
 honor, than any which urges men on in the field of 
 battle. 
 
 " Say, then, Hubert, what we are to do ; because 
 I feel that you have not given me, gracious as your 
 hospitality has been, quite that moral recognition which 
 I am entitled to." 
 
 Hubert had been bold : it was his nature. No Irish 
 man calculates the odds pitted against him. He is so 
 brave by nature, that he has no share in what is called 
 " Yankee calculation." It occurred to him that he had 
 been speaking somewhat rashly, in the presence of his 
 master. He was in the act of sliding from his chair 
 to the feet of Jaudan, to ask what he seemed to have 
 invoked a confession. But the General prevented him, 
 by saying 
 
 " I was not seeking for humility, Hubert ; nor even 
 obedience, at this moment. I was only seeking for 
 facts. Will you now tell me what I have to do in the
 
 A LOOK FROM JAUDAN. 131 
 
 United States ? for the condition of Europe is such that 
 I am likely to remain here for some time." 
 
 "Well, then, General, we shall not be pressed for 
 time to-night ; and it must be a luxury to you to sleep 
 once more in a bed, and not feel yourself tossed upon 
 every wave that sweeps by the ship on the ocean." 
 
 Hubert said this with a lordly spirit. There was 
 something of the air of command in it, to which Jaudan 
 was unaccustomed, even during his interviews with 
 Popes, or Kings. But he took the hint. 
 
 " Well, Hubert, my noble brother, it is late ; and one 
 good night's sleep, on the solid earth, will be worth 
 everything. But before I go to my chamber" and 
 Jaudan said it with a kind of condescension which he 
 had not often showed to his inferiors in the Order " let 
 me be assured by your own frank heart, that you will 
 look with perfect candor upon these matters you have 
 spoken of and spoken of, I confess, in a tone that has 
 slightly disturbed my spirit." 
 
 The look which Jaudan then gave to Hubert, was one 
 which few men could resist. 
 
 " I wish, Hubert, to assert no authority here ; least of 
 all while I am your guest ; and if there is the slightest 
 possibility that you should forget that I am what I am, 
 then I must leave your roof to-night." 
 
 These words were uttered in a tone, and with a spirit
 
 132 THE GENERAL OF THE COMPANY. ' 
 
 which no Jesuit in the world could have pronounced, 
 except the General of the Company of Jesus and few 
 among its generals could have uttered them as they came 
 from Jaudan's lips. 
 
 Hubert was paralysed. He had found his master, 
 in more senses than one. His supreme control over the 
 affairs of the Church in the United States, had made 
 him somewhat arrogant, even before his General. The 
 lightning glance of Jaudan's eye, with the terrific gestures 
 he made and they were all calm, studied, and measured 
 dismissed any idea of supremacy from his mind, and 
 Hubert fell to his knees, and exclaimed 
 
 " Forgive me, General !" 
 
 Jaudan had gamed the victory. It was not necessary 
 to risk the pursuit. 
 
 " Eise, Hubert, and give me that kiss which I have 
 received from the great Ignatius." 
 
 The two Jesuits embraced each other, and as Hubert's 
 head lay confidingly and submissively upon the shoulder 
 of Jaudan, the General pressed him to his heart, and 
 said : 
 
 " You ought to be my successor. Now, if you will 
 ring for the servant, I think I will retire." 
 
 " The servant is here, General" and lighting a wax 
 caudle, Hubert himself, showed the General of the 
 Company of Jesus to his room.
 
 THE HOME IN BOND STREET. 133 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 GENEVRA AT HOME. 
 
 IT was with a mingled feeling of sadness and joy, that 
 Genevra once more found herself in her quiet and luxu 
 rious home, in Bond street. The prim and nun-like old 
 housekeeper, who had been in daily expectation of 
 receiving a summons to leave her berth, and go forth to 
 struggle with the world again, expressed all the joy, or 
 pleasure, that her cold and acid nature was capable of 
 displaying. Even Tier smiles cheered the heart of poor 
 Genevra. She could have loved the woman, if she 
 had possessed a kindly nature, for it was she who had 
 ministered at the bedside of her lost mother: bigoted 
 and ill-natured as she was, she still had showed some 
 grief at her mistress's death ; and had even been tender, 
 for a few days, towards the bereaved child. 
 
 Yes, this was the home of her childhood. Here she 
 had known her mother's mouniful affection here was 
 her own chaste and beautiful room her music, her books, 
 her flowers even her own birds were singing to her
 
 134 VINCENZI AND HIS DAUGHTER. 
 
 again and above all, she was in a living world, warm 
 with life, light, and affection no longer immured in the 
 cold, grey walls of a Convent, with the pale, melancholy 
 sisters flitting noiselessly about in funereal robes. Her 
 father was free, and she had made him smile once more : 
 Stanhope was near, and loved her. Could there be any 
 sorrow in the future 1 
 
 The crackling coal was blazing brightly in the drawing- 
 room grate the massive curtains were drawn about the 
 windows dinner was over, and Genevra and her father 
 were taking their coffee. He was reclining in" his easy 
 chair, and she sat on a low seat at his side, looking 
 smilingly into his face, as he gazed vacantly at the 
 fire. 
 
 " Dear Father, is it not delightful to be at home again ? 
 Do not these soft carpets, this furniture, our beautiful 
 pictures, and this glowing fire, seem a paradise after the 
 cold cells and fireless corridors of Sant' Ambrogio ? Oh ! 
 I have had my heart frozen within me, in that dreary 
 place, and I know you will be a great deal better, now 
 that you can have warmth, comfort, and my good 
 nursing." 
 
 She pressed her lips to his thin hand, as it lay colorless 
 upon the arm of his chair. 
 
 " What do you say, papa ?" 
 
 " Genevra, you shock me, with your unweaned love of
 
 THE ANGEL AND THE BIGOT. 135 
 
 the world, and its sinful illusions. What are these vain 
 and perishable things these few years of unreal enjoy 
 ments, compared with the sacrifice of self, and complete 
 devotion to God ? My Genevra, you are too fair and too 
 pure, to be thrown away upon a wicked world you are 
 a fit bride of Christ ; and I wish to live long enough to 
 see your holy espousal. As for me, my days are num 
 bered. Though these worldly comforts may have the 
 power to win my thoughts, for a moment, from my duty 
 and destiny, yet I will confess my sin to-morrow, and be 
 guilty of it no more." 
 
 A cold tremor crept through Genevra's blood; and 
 images of former sorrows came hovering around the 
 newly warmed hearthstone. 
 
 " But, my dear Father," cried Genevra, with a voice 
 full of tears, " do not, do not, I implore you, give way to 
 such gloomy thoughts ! Let us be happy. I am your 
 only child we are alone in the world let us make each 
 other happy. I will be your joy your solace ! I will 
 not leave you for a moment. No friend, child, or wife, 
 will be the delight I can be to you. I will never leave 
 you : but do not speak of a convent." 
 
 Vincenzi had been for years under the all-powerful 
 pressure of the hand of Jesuitism. His mind, grown 
 feeble, day by day, could no longer assert its indepen 
 dence. This victim of a merciless system, which annihi-
 
 '136 THK DISCARDED CHILD. 
 
 lates all wills but its own, had, in imbecility and terror, 
 yielded to the sceptre that waved over him. 
 
 " You rave, child ! Your brain is bewitched with the 
 heretical notions instilled by your mother. Do you sup 
 pose I shall allow you to follow her headstrong course to 
 perdition 1 No, I would rather see you die at my feet. 
 I have yet to expiate, on this side the tomb, the crime 
 of marrying a besotted heretic ; merely because she had 
 a pretty face like yours, Grenevra. No, you are my child 
 as well as hers, and these seeds of infidelity shall be 
 eradicated from your soul." 
 
 Vincenzi was excited. Turning with unusual vehe 
 mence more fully towards Genevra, he continued- 
 
 " And now, while I speak of these things, I will not 
 have that Burleigh hanging about here. I know your 
 mother indulged a woman's foolish fancy about you both, 
 from the time you were children. Now you are man 
 and woman, and he, a despiSer of our faith, would lure 
 and cheat your soul to perdition. Jaudan bade me 
 beware of him, and I must obey." 
 
 Genevra clung convulsively to her father's knee, for 
 he would not let her grasp his hands, while he continued : 
 
 " I'll have none of it ! You will not be an earthly 
 bride : you shall be the bride of Heaven." 
 
 He rose, trembling with passion, and without looking 
 upon his child, who was supplicating him with uplifted
 
 THE PROTESTANT FAITH. 137 
 
 hands and streaming eyes, passed to his sleeping apart 
 ment. 
 
 Genevra remained on her knees, where her father had 
 left her. Burying her face in the cushions of ih&fauteuil, 
 her tears ceased to flow, and dark, wild, desperate 
 thoughts poured through her brain. Why had she been 
 born ? Her life had always been overshadowed by gloom. 
 Her recollections were of her mother's tears her lonely, 
 persecuted life the harshness and bigotry of her father 
 her isolation, for the last two years, from all domestic 
 affection ; and the terrible future spread out before her ! 
 Could it be possible that her mother's faith was a 
 delusion, and they were both receiving a just discipline 
 to bring them to the true Church ? No ! She could not 
 believe it, when she remembered her mother's pious and 
 exemplary life, and thought of the hypocrisy, idolatry, 
 ignorance, and sensuality, she had seen in the worshippers 
 of the Virgin Mary. 
 
 "No!" she mentally ejaculated, "I will not yield 
 to this hateful despotism this despicable faith. I have 
 the blessing of my sainted mother, and I will struggle to 
 the last ; and if they shut me up in a Convent, it will be 
 when no door of escape is left. But am I not pledged to 
 Stanhope ? And can I ought I to break my faith with 
 him ? I will not, even if Padre Jaudan, the Jesuit, has 
 said so. Stanhope, the Protestant, may yet defeat him."
 
 138 " GOD HELP ME !" 
 
 And yet, while Genevra thus defied the General in 
 her thoughts, her heart seemed to cease its beating, 
 as she recalled that power which had uprooted thrones. 
 Could she, a helpless girl, escape it ? 
 
 She rose from her knees, with the heart-felt cry, " God 
 help me in my extremity !" The fire had burned low 
 the lamp had paled. Chilled, exhausted, miserable, but 
 resolute to stem the gathering tempest, she laid her 
 aching head upon her pillow, this first night, which 
 ought to have been so happy, in her native land.
 
 STANHOPE AMD GENEVRA. 139 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 i 
 
 STANHOPE AND GENEVRA. 
 
 THE next morning before noon, Stanhope, who had 
 passed up and down Broadway for two hours, burning 
 with impatience for the time to arrive when he could call 
 upon Genevra, rang the bell. The door was opened by 
 a servant, and Genevra, who had been expecting him, 
 was that moment descending the stairway. 
 
 " Thank God you are here ! " she cried, as she almost 
 flew into his arms. " I was afraid you would never 
 come." 
 
 Stanhope was frightened at her vehement agitation. 
 Gently leading her to a sofa in the drawing-room, he 
 seated himself by her side, and drew her tenderly to his 
 breast. 
 
 " Poor little bird ! what is the matter this morning 1 
 Did you think it possible I could leave New York with 
 out seeing my beloved Genevra again ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, it was not that : but I had passed such an un 
 happy night, and such a load of grief is at my heart, that
 
 140 GENEVRA'S FATHER. 
 
 I thought you would never come. I thought that you 
 had been refused admittance. I am happier now, and 
 I can tell you all." 
 
 "Refused admittance, Genevra! Who should refuse 
 me?" 
 
 "Listen," she replied, "and I will tell you;" and she 
 narrated the conversation she had held with her father 
 the preceding evening. " This morning," she continued, 
 " as he did not appear at breakfast, I went to his room, 
 where I found him too feeble to rise. His Confessor 
 was already by his bed-side. He called me to him, and 
 said : ' Behold your work ! Your obstinacy will kill me. 
 To-day, I suppose, that heretic will call, under pretence 
 of inquiring after our health ; but let it be for the last 
 time, for he shall never see you again.' Then, moderat 
 ing his tone, he continued, ' Genevra, my life is passing 
 swiftly away. I know you desire to remain with me till 
 the last moment. On condition that you never meet or 
 correspond with Burleigh again, you shall do so ; other 
 wise, I shall send you to the Convent, at Georgetown, 
 to-morrow.' " 
 
 "Genevra," said Burleigh, with a shudder, "you pro 
 mised ?" 
 
 " What could I do ?" she replied, with tears. " Oh, 
 Burleigh, my father is dying ; and to be torn from both 
 you and him would kill me. You do not blame me ?"
 
 VINCENZI AND HIS JESUIT MASTERS. 141 
 
 " Blame you ! No, my love. But, Genevra, this pro 
 mise does not extend beyond the life of your father. It 
 would be wicked in you to leave him now, and base in 
 me to entice you to do so. While I know you are with 
 him, in this house, I shall try to be satisfied ; but the 
 moment your father is no more, nothing shall tear you 
 from me. May the curse of God light on these Jesuits !" 
 he cried, starting to his feet and rapidly walking the 
 floor. " It is their work, and I will not leave one stone 
 unturned till I fathom their intrigues. Genevra, can I 
 possibly see your father ?" 
 
 " See him ! you might as well ask for an interview 
 with Jaudan himself, if he did not choose it. And, be 
 sides, my father is too feeble to converse now with any 
 one. His wily Confessor, too, has come to live with us ; 
 and after this we shall never be alone again. He eats 
 with us, will ride with us, and sleep in a chamber adjoin 
 ing my father's. But my father will never think for 
 himself again, he has returned to bondage and to death." 
 
 Stanhope's heart was torn with rage and grief, but he 
 saw that Genevra was being fast overwhelmed by this 
 accumulation of sorrows. He laid her cheek against his 
 own, he wiped her tears away, and soothed her grief with 
 his caresses. 
 
 " Courage, my darling all will yet be well. We are 
 neither slaves nor prisoners, and I have yet to believe
 
 142 THE PAIN IN THE HEART. 
 
 that we cannot circumvent these villains. Let us be pa 
 tient. I must go to my home I must see my dear 
 mother at Boston. Confiding in your love, I shall then 
 prepare for our happy future. You will devote yourself 
 to your declining father, and it may be that he will, as 
 the reward of that devotion, yet give me this dear hand. 
 But, Genevra, if there is a step taken for your removal, 
 let me know it on the instant, and I will fly to you. I 
 do not doubt that you will be faithful ; I believe that 1 
 am your world, as you are mine. I shall come often to 
 New- York ; and, though we cannot meet or correspond, 
 should you receive a bouquet, or any other token from an 
 unknown hand, be sure it is from me, and that it is covered 
 with kisses, which must be transferred to these sweet 
 lips." 
 
 Could Genevra be longer sorrowful ? Smiles played 
 around her rosy mouth, and the light once more danced 
 in her eyes. Her heart was full of happiness, but she 
 could only murmur, "Dear Stanhope !" 
 
 " Beloved," he said, after a moment's pause, " I have 
 noticed that you often put your hand to your heart, as if 
 it pained you." 
 
 " It does sometimes terribly ; but I have been so un 
 happy, why should it not ! And this slight cough pro 
 ceeds from a cold which I took the first winter I was in 
 the Convent. But I am better since the voyage ; and I
 
 THE LOVERS PART. 143 
 
 think I shall soon be well if I am always sure that you 
 will never forget your sad, lonely Genevra." 
 
 A sharp pang shot through Burleigh's soul. He had 
 never thought that Genevra might die. He clasped her 
 to his breast in an agony of fear ; a wild cry of anguish 
 rose to his lips, but he stifled it for her sake. He pressed 
 her gently from him, and gazed In her face. Those 
 humid, violet eyes were full of love ; but a faint circle 
 of blue which circled them, showed illness or fatigue. 
 A dazzling glow was on her cheek, and her pure fore 
 head and temples were so beautifully transparent, with the 
 golden light playing on her chestnut hair, that she seemed 
 to Burleigh's enraptured eye a young seraph, whose white 
 robe might float her with the first breeze away. 
 
 " Genevra," he said, as the tears filled his eyes, " you 
 are a fit bride of Heaven. I am too earthly for your 
 spiritual loveliness. It seems almost profanation to 
 touch you." 
 
 " Oh, no, no, Stanhope," she cried, embracing him. 
 " Do you not see what a stout little thing I am ? I shall 
 be very careful of my health, so do not fear." 
 
 " Monsieur wants Mademoiselle" said the Confessor in 
 a sniffling voice, as he stealthily entered. 
 
 Genevra shuddered, and Stanhope, after straining her 
 to his heart, and covering her face with kisses, renewed 
 his vows, and tore himself away.
 
 144 AN AMERICAN SUMMER MORNING. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE RIDE TO CLAREMONT. 
 
 THE next morning, as Padre Jaudan and Hubert wero 
 seated at the breakfast table, a carriage drove up to the 
 door. 
 
 " Now, General, I am at your service, for a visit to the 
 Sacred Heart. It is a beautiful morning. The ride to 
 Claremont, is one of the finest in the environs of New 
 York, and we can continue our conversation .along the 
 way without interruption." 
 
 Jaudan, who had risen early to write several European 
 letters for the steamer which sailed that day, at once 
 accepted the proposal, and a few minutes later they were 
 on the road to Claremont. It was one of those glorious 
 mornings of our early summer, which, travellers have 
 often remarked, are peculiar to the Island of Manhattan. 
 
 " Such a morning is always exhilarating, but inde 
 scribably so to one who has just escaped from a stormy 
 voyage." 
 
 " This intoxicating air, Hubert, sends new life through 
 every vein in my body. It is a good augury. Who
 
 THE RIDE TO CLAREMONT. 145 
 
 knows but under its invigorating influence, I may feel 
 once more, as we both did when, thirty years ago, we 
 walked out together on the Appian Way, from the 
 Eternal City ? " 
 
 " Why, General, we are both of us as vigorous as we 
 were then ; and as for you, the flush of early manhood 
 is still on your cheek." 
 
 " Hubert, I do really feel this morning, as elastic and 
 buoyant as I ever did in my life ; and finding you, at 
 last, once more by my side, with such a field spread out 
 before us, why can we not begin a new era in the history 
 of our Company, which, in grandeur and power, shall 
 correspond with the political expansion and adornment 
 of this magnificent Republic ? " 
 
 " Our resources, General, are greater in America than 
 they are in Europe. All we lack is money ; for here 
 we are subjected to the enormous expenses of construc 
 tion : whereas in Europe, with vastly larger means, there 
 is no drain on our revenues, except for keeping the edi 
 fice in repair." 
 
 " Apropos, Hubert. We should give our early atten 
 tion to Vincenzi ; for here is a prize that must not be 
 lost." 
 
 " What was the final result of my plan of sending 
 Vincenzi and his daughter to Italy 1" 
 
 " The idea was worthy of yourself; and I succeeded in 
 7
 
 146 VIXCENZl'S ESTATES IN EUROPE. 
 
 winning his entire confidence. After his daughter was 
 sent to the Sacred Heart, he came to live with us in 
 the Convent of Saiit' Ambrogio. Here, as you may well 
 imagine, I moulded his views and feelings to suit myself. 
 If that revolution had not broken out, I think everything 
 would have been secure by another year, for the girl was 
 in a fair way of dying from sheer obstinacy. She had 
 fallen into a deep gloom ; and although she submitted 
 without complaining, to every duty laid upon her, yet 
 she showed unmistakable signs of gradual decay. Vin- 
 cenzi himself could scarcely have held out a year longer, 
 and you have for some months been aware that he had 
 in a will now in my possession left all his property in 
 trust to our Order, to take effect immediately after his 
 daughter should have taken the veil ; or, in the event of 
 her death, if it occurred before she had been fully ini 
 tiated." 
 
 " Did you ascertain the amount of his property in 
 Spain, General ?" 
 
 " I did at last ; but not without some exertion ; for \e 
 has always had, as you well know, a terrible repugnance 
 to unfolding the state of his affairs to anybody He is a 
 very strange fellow ; for, while he seems never to have 
 cared anything about money for its own sake, he has 
 kept his affairs to himself as close as a miser. I did not 
 wish to press him on that point, and, therefore, wrote to
 
 HIS PROPERTY IN AMERICA. 147 
 
 our brethren in Madrid. Receiving no satisfactory infor 
 mation, I dispatched our friend, the Marquis Lorenzo, 
 who, of course, succeeded. At a low estimate, his estates 
 in Spain may be valued at three million dollars." 
 
 " Is it possible, General ?" 
 
 " Yes ; and certain. There is another good thing 
 about it. His agent at Barcelona is an honest man, and, 
 although not 'one of us,' he Avould be sure to do us no 
 wrong ; on the contrary, he would rather serve us than 
 not. He is himself immensely rich, and cares very little 
 about money. He has managed Vincenzi's estates ad 
 mirably, and the revenue they have produced during the 
 last ten years, has been at the rate of four per cent, per 
 annum on five million dollars." 
 
 " I am glad to hear this, General. It is a surprise, 
 however." 
 
 " And, in turn, Hubert, what are your estimates on 
 his American property ?" 
 
 " His bonds, mortgages, and cash securities in the city 
 of New York, a little exceed one million. He has fifteen 
 hundred thousand in the national debt, created by the 
 war with Mexico ; and half a million in the State Stocks 
 of New York ; while his property in the West Indies and 
 Brazil is certainly worth three millions, as I estimated it 
 before he started for Italy. We have, then, nine mil 
 lions and over, which, with his personal property and
 
 148 IS THE FORTUNE SAFE? 
 
 real estate in this city, bring it up, in round numbers, to 
 ten millions." 
 
 " Quite a handsome sum, Hubert," said Jaudan with a 
 smile, and rubbing the palms of his white hands gleefully 
 together. 
 
 " It is certainly worth looking after. With half that 
 sum we can establish and endow a Sacre Cceur, and a 
 College for boys, in every State in the Union. We shall 
 never be immovably strong in this country, until that 
 is done." 
 
 " Let us get it first, Hubert, the spending of it will not 
 be difficult. This European Revolution has, for the 
 time, upset our plan, unless the girl should die shortly, 
 and Vincenzi should make no other disposition of his pro 
 perty." 
 
 " He is not likely to do that, General, I hope 1" 
 
 " He was safe enough while I had him within the walls 
 of Old Sant' Ambrogio ; but of his disposition now, God 
 only knows. Several new elements are beginning to 
 mingle in our little drama. In the first place, this 
 heretic Stanhope Burleigh turned up in Genoa, as the 
 devil would have it ; and through a flower-girl, whom the 
 Lady Abbess imprudently admitted to the garden of the 
 Convent, learned the whereabouts of Genevra. We were 
 crowded into pretty close quarters, and I confess I could 
 see no other means of escape except through his agency.
 
 AN ANTAGONIST IN STANHOPE BURLEIGH. 149 
 
 He managed his cards very well; and we shall find, 
 Hubert, that if we pit ourselves against him we shall 
 have a hard fight. He loves the girl to distraction ; and 
 it is just as certain that she loves him quite as well. 
 Burleigh is a well educated young man, and understands 
 the world too well to mix himself up in our affairs with 
 out invitation, or solicitation from us. He is at once bold 
 and discreet ; clear-headed and full of talent. He has a 
 thorough knowledge of law, and probably it would take 
 us both some time to find his equal in a boy of two-and- 
 twenty." 
 
 " There is also another thing, General, which you may 
 not be aware of; he has a large fortune of his own." 
 
 " Ah ! ha !" said Jaudan, " I am glad of that, Hubert ; 
 the fight will not be so hard ; and for two reasons. 
 First, We can use all the money that can be well used 
 in the struggle, and if we should be able to save Vin- 
 cenzi's estate, we could well afford to resign the little 
 heretic, which is probably all Stanhope would want. A 
 young man with half a million in his pocket, and deeply 
 in love, will look only after the girl He has got money 
 enough. The first thing will be, whenever the business 
 of wills, codicils, deeds, and legal papers comes up, for 
 us to look out, and not get ourselves into the meshes of 
 the laws of this State." 
 
 " Then we must consult our friend O'Donnell at once,
 
 150 O'DONNELL, THE JESUIT LAWYER. 
 
 He is, of course, still acting as tlie legal adviser of tlio 
 Company of Jesus for the United States'?" 
 
 " Yes ; and lie is a man perfectly fitted for the post he 
 fills." 
 
 " Is he still in all the vigor of his prime ?" 
 
 " Yes, General ; and more than that he has not yet 
 reached the maturity of his powers. He is rising every 
 day. So successful is he in whatever he attempts, that 
 nobody dreams of his losing a case. An Irishman by 
 descent, a Jesuit by instinct, learned above almost any 
 body in the profession, subtle in his plans, adroit in exe 
 cution, never surprised, never unprepared, setting out in 
 every cause with the single motive to win, whatever may 
 be the cost or the hazard ; the Company of Jesus in the 
 United States has never expended any money so wisely 
 as by retaining him in advance on our side, whenever our 
 interests or the interests of our friends are at stake. 
 What are ten thousand dollars a year for such services ?" 
 
 " A bagatelle," replied Jaudan, with his most self- 
 complacent smile. " But, Hubert, we may get ourselves 
 into one or more unpleasant predicaments, where we 
 shall have to resort to one or more summary processes. 
 Are you sure that O'Donnell can be relied on in any 
 emergency ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Is there no such word as -flincJi in his vocabulary 1"
 
 O'DONNELL'S CHARACTER. 151 
 
 " No, not even that still more fatal thing which men 
 call ' scruple of conscience? ' 
 
 " And yet, Hubert, this man has, at all events, a sense 
 of honor that would never allow him to betray the Com 
 pany of Jesus?" 
 
 " Why should we have any doubt on that score ? 
 You and I, General, have trod with him that passage of 
 life" 
 
 " Enough," said Jaudan, lifting his hand ; " we are 
 safe. But yet, I confess I feel somewhat awkward in 
 setting a pane of glass in my bosom for such a pair of 
 eyes as he carries in his head to look through, particu 
 larly when one of those eyes is suspected of having a 
 Protestant cast, if convenient." 
 
 " You will remember, of course, General, that in Pro 
 testant countries we must use Protestant instruments. 
 But O'Donnell is a, professed Catholic, and what cares he 
 for Protestantism ! Why, it is doubtful if the fellow 
 believes in God or devil." 
 
 "With all his genius then, Hubert, he ought to make 
 a capital lawyer, and a pretty good Jesuit." 
 
 The two Jesuits had a good laugh. By this time they 
 had reached the Lodge of the Sacred Heart. The gate 
 swung open, and the carriage rolled up the hill. It 
 stopped before the door of that superb edifice, which 
 stands iipon the most commanding eminence on the Island
 
 152 THE CONVENT AT CLAREMONT. 
 
 of Manhattan much after the architectural style of the 
 French Chateau of the Middle Ages, domineering over 
 the distant Metropolis, as the genius which founded it, 
 domineers over the souls of its inhabitants. 
 
 They mounted the stairway which led to the reception- 
 room ; and, while they Avere contemplating the bright and 
 varied landscape, that opened on the south, with the East 
 River on the one side, and the Hudson on the other, 
 sweeping down by the great city, to the ocean, the 
 Lady Superior was announced. 
 
 Hubert advanced to greet her, and, leading her a few 
 steps, presented her to the General of her Order She 
 had learned from Hubert, the previous night, of his 
 arrival. "With a blanched face, and an agitation that she 
 could not conceal, she was dropping upon her knee, 
 when Jaudan, with the grace of a courtier, seized her 
 hand 
 
 " Daughter, let me substitute something better than this 
 sign of your obedience and respect ;" and he raised her 
 hand to his lips, as he led her to the sofa. 
 
 "I am glad to see you apparently in such perfect 
 health. You have been growing young and beautiful 
 since we parted, which, I had almost added, was long 
 years ago." 
 
 " You are too kind, General," said the Lady Superior 
 as the rich carnation spread once more over her really
 
 THE LADY SUPERIOR. 153 
 
 beautiful features. " I think the air of this place is 
 specially suited to my constitution; and then on sack a 
 beautiful morning as this, who would not feel the glow of 
 health and hope suffuse the cheek, and warm the heart ? 
 Have you looked from the front window, General ]" 
 
 " I have, my Lady ; but let us look again." 
 
 Hubert, Avho had some business affairs of the Convent 
 to look after, excused himself as he withdrew from the 
 apartment. 
 
 The Lady Superior had pointed out to the curious and 
 tasteful eye of the General, all the striking objects, in the 
 landscape. One by one, he had gazed intently upon 
 them, and bent his ear to the fascinating voice of the 
 gifted woman who stood by his side. When her de 
 scription was finished, Jaudan was silent for some time. 
 His eyes had lost that sharp intensity with which they 
 pierced direct to the object he was looking at. 
 
 "My Lady," he said, in a tone of tenderness and 
 romance that she had never expected to recognise in the 
 voice of a successor of Loyola " does it not occur to you 
 that the landscape you look on from these windows is too 
 charming ? " 
 
 " It is beautiful, General ! But what harm can it do 
 us poor things, who have turned our backs on the world, 
 and lifted our eyes to Heaven ? " 
 
 Her face glowed with serene, but exultant hope. She
 
 154 THE GENERAL A.\D THE ABBESS. 
 
 had lifted her Lands just far enough to reveal the sym 
 metry of her form, and there was an heroic beauty in 
 the enthusiasm of one who had thus early in life's morn 
 ing, given to Christ in unstained purity, all the passions 
 of the human heart. 
 
 Jaudan had gained his point. He had discerned in her , 
 graceful and winning manner, all the elements of charac 
 ter so necessary in the Lady Superior of their Metropoli 
 tan Convent ; and once more in his own heart, he ap 
 plauded the management of Hubert, who seemed to have 
 adapted all of his machinery with great ' felicity, to the 
 vital energies of a young Republic. 
 
 " You are very young, my Lady, to be the Superior of 
 a Sacre Cceur" 
 
 " General," she added, in a slight tone of raillery, " do 
 you think it absolutely indispensable that a Lady Supe 
 rior should become a hag, before she is qualified to win 
 and guide the fairest and best maidens of this heretic 
 Republic ? " 
 
 Jaudan smiled. "No, my Lady," he said, " the God 
 of the universe has breathed the spirit of beauty over 
 creation; and we have in the Holy Virgin herself, a 
 divine type of perfection. But we came up this morning 
 only for a ride, and to leave our blessing with you, and 
 yours. Often, on future occasions, I shall hope to meet 
 you ; and I trust I feel a new emotion of gratitude, in
 
 HUBERT ENTERS. 155 
 
 finding at the head of this establishment, one who is so 
 eminently qualified to adorn any scene of life." 
 
 Jaudan could not help being gallant ; and the Lady 
 Superior, who was quick in her perception of character, 
 had some doubt whether there was more devotion, or 
 gallantry, in this last expression of her General. It is 
 certain, however, that Jaudan's visit had benefited the 
 Lady Superior; for she not only felt honored by his 
 approbation, and conscious of new strength in the holy 
 cause to which she had dedicated her life, but his courtly 
 manners, and graceful compliments, had appealed to her 
 heart, like a new inspiration. Suffused with the glow of 
 conscious purity, and the delight of appreciation, she 
 almost forgot herself in the extreme familiarity with 
 which she seized Jaudan's hand. 
 
 " God bless thee, my daughter ;" and at that moment 
 Hubert entered the room. 
 
 The Lady Superior rang the bell, and a meek but 
 happy-looking girl entered with three little cups of cafe 
 noir upon an antique salver. The General handed one 
 to the Lady Superior, and another to Hubert as he 
 -was lifting the third to his lips, he caught a glimpse of 
 the beautiful Moorish Arabesque upon its surface, inlaid 
 in gold and silver. Startled, he looked with surprise 
 into the Lady's face, as if he wished to ask a question, 
 bcckoning, at the same moment, the servant to wait.
 
 356 A SOUVENIR FROM GRANADA. 
 
 She smiled. " Is it not a splendid work of art, 
 General, to be seen in our poor Convent ? It was sent 
 to me by the Lady Abbess of the Sacre Cceur at Genoa, 
 when she sent me two excellent Italian sisters as 
 assistants." 
 
 What a volume Jaudan read in that relic from 
 Granada ! 
 
 They partook of the slight refreshment, and making 
 their adieux entered the carriage, which rolled luxu 
 riously away, down the great road leading from the 
 Sacre Cceur.
 
 INEZ. 157 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE DISAPPEARANCE OF CARLO. 
 
 A few evenings after the arrival of Carlo at the house 
 of Hubert which he had not quitted for a moment 
 he was sitting at a little table in the centre of Iris 
 sleeping apartment, reading a French copy of Monte 
 Christo, which had beguiled his lonely hours with en 
 chantment. He was looking fresh and bright as a new- 
 blown rose, and his eager eyes absorbed page after page, 
 unconscious of time or place. 
 
 The door opened noiselessly. A hand was laid gently 
 on his head, and a voice said 
 
 " Inez ! " 
 
 The shock was electric. Inez rose suddenly to her 
 feet, and gazing with wondering eyes on Padre Jaudan, 
 exclaimed 
 
 " Is it to be so ? Am I no longer Carlo ?" 
 
 " No. You will now assume your real name, and the 
 garments of a woman, which belong to you. For many 
 and important reasons, which I shall hereafter explain,
 
 158 DISAPPEARANCE OF CARLO. 
 
 you assumed this disguise, as you well know, at an early 
 age, and became my little Neophyte, in the Convent. 
 But now, you have a more difficult part to play ; and I 
 trust, Inez, I shall not find you unwilling or ungrateful." 
 
 " Oh, no ! Padre mio. How could I be ungrateful to 
 you, who have watched over me so many years ; who 
 have always been so kind ? There is nothing I will not 
 do to please you. But how shall I look 1 How shall I 
 feel in these strange garments ?" 
 
 " Oh, they will not feel awkward, I imagine," said the 
 Padre, smiling. " The flowing robe of a neophyte, 
 which you have so long worn, is not very dissimilar; 
 and then, for the present, I have had them prepared 
 in black, which you have always worn ; and it is not 
 ' unbecoming to you. They are to be brought this 
 evening, and you Avill put them on in the morning, and 
 go to the house of Signer Vincenzi to live with Genevra." 
 
 " Live with Genevra ! Go away from you ! Oh, 
 Monsieur ! it will break my heart." 
 
 " Foolish child ! Do you not see that it is impossible 
 for you to stay here as a woman, in the house of an 
 ecclesiastic 1 I shall remain here for the present." 
 
 " But what will Genevra think ? I shall be ashamed 
 to meet her after having worn boy's clothes so long; 
 and I am sure she will be very shy of me. And what 
 am I to do there ?"
 
 .'HAT IS INEZ TO DO ? 159 
 
 " You need have no fears on the score of shamefaced- 
 ness with Miss Vincenzi. I have told her, that owing to 
 the misfortunes of your parents" Inez's lips parted as if 
 to speak, but a look from Jaudan checked her" this 
 disguise was necessary. But since you have left all 
 danger behind in Europe, I wish you to resume the 
 Iress of your sex; and as m education and refinement 
 yon are not inferior to her, I desire you to become her 
 Companion." 
 
 " What did she say, Monsieur ? Did she like the idea ?" 
 
 " She was, of course, very much astonished, but seemed 
 equally delighted. Poor thing! she is, doubtless, very 
 lonely." 
 
 " But what am I to do there, Monsieur ? Something 
 besides wearing frocks, and amusing Miss Vincenzi ?" 
 
 " That is the point, Inez. You have a most important 
 part to act. You know Genevra is a heretic ; that her 
 mother was one before her ; and that it is the wish of 
 Signer Vincenzi that Genevra should go into a Convent. 
 You must prepare her mind for her destiny ; for enter 
 into a Convent she must." 
 
 " But why should she go into a Convent, Monsieur 1 
 Is not her father rich ? Does he not love her ? And 
 have I not heard you say that her mother wished her to 
 marry Mr. Burleigh ? And is it not plain enough to all 
 the world that they love one another ?"
 
 160 SHE HESITATES. 
 
 " That is it. Her mother did sanction such an unholy 
 union. But Vincenzi himself would rather see her in 
 her grave, than have her become the wife of Burleigh. 
 He thinks there is no way to prevent it, but to have her 
 take the veil ; for he fears that after his death she will 
 marry him." 
 
 " Poor Genevra," sighed Inez. " I am sure she is an 
 angel, and that Mr. Burleigh is good and noble, if he is a 
 Protestant. But what can I do ?" 
 
 "You must be with Genevra always. Never allow 
 her to go out alone ; and should she write to Burleigh, 
 see that the letter is not sent ; if one comes, see that she 
 does not get it." 
 
 " Oh, Monsieur ! that will be playing the spy a mean, 
 deceitful spy," cried Inez ; and the proud blood flashed to 
 her temples. " I cannot, cannot do that." 
 
 " You will do it," he said, grasping her arm violently, 
 and darting at her an intolerable glance. " Millions de 
 pend upon it. "Will you become my foe, and thwart my 
 dearest plans ? "Where now is your gratitude your 
 affection ?" 
 
 Inez stood hushed and trembling. 
 
 " Do you not know," he continued, " that I and my 
 brethren, hundreds of them, are driven penniless from 
 the Old World all our property confiscated ? This Vin 
 cenzi has already become one of us, and if he does not
 
 THE NEOPHYTE JESUIT. 1G1 
 
 relent towards this puny girl, his wealth is ours. Inez, 
 you know that the Company of Jesus must be sustained. 
 We must have means to build up, and to tear down ; and 
 you know it is our creed, that everything shall bo sub 
 servient to its aggrandizement ; and will you not help me 
 in this crisis 1 You, Avho I thought would fly to do my 
 lightest bidding? And then what is this Miss Vincenzi 
 but a hated heretic an enemy to us, and all who hold 
 our sublime religion. Inez, you may be even the means 
 of saving her soul." 
 
 Inez had covered her face with her hands to conceal 
 the horror this disclosure painted there. As the Padre 
 continued, she, who had not been trained in a school 
 where truth was the chief virtue, felt her first impression 
 melting away, and began to think herself most ungrate 
 ful towards her benefactor ; and, before he had concluded, 
 it seemed to her it would be a crime to sacrifice the So 
 ciety of Jesus to her silly scruples, when she could do so 
 much. And then, what mattered it? Genevra was 
 a heretic, and, if she did not repent, she deserved her fate. 
 At all events, Inez had been told so all her life, and it 
 had never occurred to her to doubt it. She removed 
 her hands, and extending them towards Jaudan, said 
 
 " Forgive me, Padre mio. You are wiser than I, and 
 I ought to know that you would not command me to do 
 a thing that was not right and best."
 
 162 INSTRUCTIONS TO INE7. 
 
 A feeling of shame and remorse shot through the soul 
 of Jaudan ; but, banishing it, as he had banished too 
 many good emotions during the last eighteen years, he 
 kissed Inez's forehead, and said 
 
 " My daughter, I thought you could not refuse so rea 
 sonable a request. I wish you to be gay and happy. 
 Enjoy your music ride, walk, and feel that you are 
 at home. Be as gay as a lark, and I shall see you 
 almost every day. I understood from the Confessor of 
 Vincenzi, that he has forbidden Burleigh the house. You 
 will see that this order is strictly obeyed ; but should you 
 in any way encounter him alone, make yourself known 
 to him, and dispel from his mind any suspicion that Ge- 
 iievra is to enter a Convent. Hold out to him every 
 hope of marrying her after her father's death. We must 
 keep him quiet at all hazards." 
 
 "Make yourself known to Burleigh!" thought Inez. 
 Her heart beat tumultuously at the thought; and she be 
 came so agitated that she scarcely heeded the Padre's 
 good-night. " How can I make myself known to Bur 
 leigh ? I am sure he will despise me for having been so 
 bold with him on the Clipper. But what should I care 
 what he thinks ?" she said, pouting her lips, and patting 
 her little foot nervously on the floor. " He loves Gene- 
 vra, and will" not notice how I look. Oh, oh ! I am im 
 patient to get on those woman things. I wonder if I
 
 THE TRANSFORMATION. 1G3 
 
 shall be pretty ! They always said I was a pretty boy ; 
 But I am o different from Genevra." She sighed. " She 
 looks like a Holy Virgin; I, more like a Magdalen. 
 Heigh ho ! it must be a very disagreeable thing to be a 
 woman. I am sure I never felt half so miserable as at 
 the very prospect ; so I will to bed and forget my trou 
 bles. Addio, Signer Carlo," she said, as she laid off the 
 boy's vestments for the last time ; " you were a jolly, 
 happy little elf; we shall not meet again, I fear;" and 
 she tenderly kissed those garments as her tears fell upon 
 them ; " but 1 will preserve thy memory as I do the blue 
 sea and vine-clad hills of my sunny Italy my home 
 and my boyhood." 
 
 The next morning, Inez rose soon after the daylight 
 had come through her window ; but not before a servant 
 had brought a box, containing one full suit of ladies' 
 apparel, not even forgetting a shawl, a pretty bonnet, 
 and a little pair of gloves, laid on an exquisitely laced 
 and perfumed pocket-handkerchief. On top of all was 
 the following note : 
 
 "DEAR INEZ, Happy to comply with the request of 
 Padre Jaudan, I have procured for you these things. I 
 hope they will please you ; but as you will soon be with 
 me, we can correct all deficiencies ; and you will then 
 have a full and complete wardrobe.
 
 164 INEZ' FIRST TOILET. 
 
 " I am impatient to see my little acquaintance, Carlo. 
 I am sure we shall be the best of friends, and sisters. 
 " Your affectionate 
 
 " GENEVRA." 
 
 Inez sighed heavily. 
 
 " Poor girl ! must I reward her kindness so basely ! I 
 will not be so cruel." As she examined the beautiful 
 linen, the pretty stockings, the tiny satin boots, Carlo 
 blushed ; but Inez put them on, and they fitted to a 
 charm. Next came the dressing of the luxuriant curling 
 hair. She parted it in the centre, and the change was 
 marvellous. She fastened it behind her ears, rolled it up 
 at the back, and a beautiful girl sprang into life. The 
 rose deepened on her cheek, and in the triumph of con 
 scious beauty, she said, as she looked once more in the 
 mirror 
 
 " You have magnificent eyes, Inez." 
 
 The rich black silk was a trifle too small for her petite, 
 but voluptuous form j but it was with some misgivings 
 that she looked at the dimensions of the skirt, and 
 the trimmings of the sleeves. 
 
 " But I am sure I shall be suffocated in all this 
 quantity of silk. Ah ! I see it has a kind of little vest 
 inside this waist, and these buttons seem natural. I shall 
 always wear buttons." Poor Carlo was used to them.
 
 ONLY CARLO'S CLOTHES. 165 
 
 The bonnet made her still more beautiful, if possible ; 
 and she hastily finished her toilet, as she heard the knock 
 of Padre Jaudan at the door. She flew to open it. 
 Jaudan seemed almost overwhelmed with the change 
 in her appearance but recovering himself he said 
 
 " You are very pretty, my little Inez ;" and then 
 with an involuntary sigh, he continued " may you be 
 happier than your poor mother was ! How old are you, 
 my dear ?" 
 
 " Seventeen, Padre, am I not ?" 
 
 " Yes ! Yes ! I believe so, but it seems a long time 
 ago," he said, with one of his transient, dreamy looks. 
 
 " What seems a long time, Monsieur ]" said Inez, 
 touching his arm. 
 
 " Nothing ! nothing ! Let us be going, child ; Miss 
 Vincenzi expects you to breakfast. But what have you 
 there T 
 
 " Only Carlo's clothes, Padre. I want to take them 
 with me. I love them very much." 
 
 " Ah ! you foolish child," he said, as he smiled, and 
 once more kissed her forehead ; " but come, the carriage 
 waits." And in a moment they were whirling away to 
 Bond Street.
 
 16G STANHOPE BURLEIGH AT . HOME. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 STANHOPE AND HIS MOTHER. 
 
 A FEW anxious days went by. Burleigh had once more 
 rejoined his family at their country seat near Boston ; 
 and all his friends, who were still there, had assembled 
 to give him a hearty welcome to his home. Unlike most 
 of them, he had added to the culture of years of literary 
 toil, the full completeness of realized classic beauty. In 
 the midst of fallen arches, and broken columns, he 
 had recalled, with vividness, the studies of his earlier 
 years. As he trod upon the dust of departed empires, 
 the genius of their great authors flashed upon his fancy, 
 with new vividness ; and he felt himself more intimately 
 connected with the spirits that had guided the destinies 
 of the States and kingdoms of antiquity, than he had 
 ever felt in the class-room. Burleigh's mind was of that 
 ideal type, which made the actual ruins he stood upon, 
 and contemplated, grander to his imagination, than they 
 ever appeared to the eye of a Greek or a Roman. 
 
 And now, surrounded as he was by the brilliant
 
 A NEW ENGLAND CIRCLE. 107 
 
 assemblage of those who Lad bent to the power, and 
 paled before the lustre of his academic genius, he was 
 oppressed by the desire, so many expressed, that he 
 would entertain them by some account of his travels. 
 
 " My friends, I have only been abroad two years ; and 
 it would be assuming quite too much for me, to speak of 
 anything I have seen, unless I should talk of it as I would 
 to A fellow-traveller in a Malle-Poste" 
 
 It so happened that this way of talking was exactly 
 in Burleigh's vein it was the way he had oft magnet 
 ized everybody near him. He was modest instinctively 
 so. He despised ostentation he nevdr courted it he 
 could not endure it in others, much less the appearance 
 of it ui himself; and herein consisted the chief charm of 
 his character. 
 
 There are some men who seem to be intrusted with the 
 important mission of representing to the coarse world of 
 life and business, the ideal which every fine mind and 
 every gentle heart carries into society. Burleigh was 
 pre-eminently such a man. He was rich and born rich. 
 This disgusted no one, and gave a prestige in our money- 
 making republic, which could not be taken from him. 
 Like a generous republican, too, he was plain, unpretend 
 ing, and unassuming in everything. This gave him an 
 immense advantage with all classes not only with the 
 low, but with the high; for he raised the one by the
 
 168 STANHOPE'S MOTHER. 
 
 genial influence of his presence to a better and higher 
 idea of life ; and the other found in his presence the 
 noblest model for imitation. He was the observed of all 
 observers, and he had been so from his early youth. 
 Without courting attention, he had never been able to 
 escape it without wishing even to be appreciated, every 
 body had joined in too loud a chorus of approbation for 
 whatever he did. 
 
 The company assembled to greet him, had been invited 
 chiefly by his mother. Born and bred in scenes of taste 
 and refinement, she swayed the society she moved in. 
 There must always be some gifted woman in every circle 
 like this, to give tone to thought, manner, and sentiment, 
 and even to fashion whatever la mode may send over 
 to us from Paris. Mrs. Burleigh was such a woman. She 
 loved her son, and all the affection she had felt for him 
 as a bright college boy, had ripened into a mother's pride 
 for the one who had now grown to manhood, and graced 
 with every accomplishment, was adorned by that finishing 
 stroke which is only imparted to the finest character 
 unconsciousness of superiority. 
 
 The luxurious apartments of Mrs. Burleigh's house, 
 had gathered that evening many of the finest minds, and 
 the noblest characters of New England. To no one there, 
 was Stanhope unknown ; and yet there was a universal 
 expectation that he would make more of a figure than he
 
 MRS. BURLE1GH WITH HER SON. 169 
 
 i 
 
 did. But our readers can well understand why he did 
 not appear even as well as usual, for they know that he 
 had left his heart with Genevra. He had always mastery 
 enough over himself to act well and he acted well that 
 evening. But a certain strangeness of manner had not 
 escaped observation, and captious remarks were made. 
 Some said he had " grown important after his tour ;" 
 others, that he was " assuming foreign airs," etc.; but no 
 one said that Burleigh did not greet every old friend with 
 all the straightforwardness, frankness, and simplicity of 
 his nature. 
 
 When the party had dispersed, and the doors of the 
 old house closed once more for night's repose, a scene 
 occurred between Burleigh and his mother, which ought 
 to be related. 
 
 The lights were not yet extinguished, and, taking Stan 
 hope's arm, Mrs. Burleigh said : 
 
 " Stanhope, you do not know how happy I have been 
 to-night ! To have you return after so long a separation, 
 which I found it so hard to bear, and be greeted as you 
 were to-night, by such a company, has made this day the 
 brightest of my life, except that bright morning when, 
 three-and-twenty years ago, I gave my hand and heart 
 to your noble father. That was a day of pleasure tho 
 gala-day of my youth ; but this has been a day of exulta 
 tion and pride, for, Stanhope, it is the anniversary of my 
 
 8
 
 170 STANHOPE CHANGED. 
 
 wedding-day, and you are now of the same age your 
 father was when, on that first evening, I walked with 
 him through this old mansion, on his arm, as I now hold 
 yours. 
 
 "But, Stanhope, there has been a little tinge of sadness 
 in my heart this evening, for it seems to me you are 
 
 me what changed." 
 
 " No, no ! my beloved mother. Do you think that I 
 have become a foreigner, or that a hundred Europes 
 could make me anything but Stanhope Burleigh ]" 
 
 " No, no, my child, it is not that, but you are changed 
 I know you are ; you cannot conceal it from her who 
 has watched your growth from the nursery, and known 
 all your thoughts and feelings. 
 
 " Come, Stanhope," she continued, clinging confidingly 
 to his arm with both hands, and turning her rich hazel 
 eyes up into his face, " you never concealed anything 
 from me. What is it?" 
 
 " Why, nothing, mother," said Stanhope, with a slight 
 tone of impatience ; " I have nothing to conceal from 
 you. Why should 1 1" 
 
 " You have, Stanhope. Are you in love ?" 
 
 " Yes, mamma ; I am in love with " 
 
 . " Whom ? Whom ?" 
 
 " You," was the answer, as he kissed her fair 
 chock.
 
 BURLKIGH'S CONFESSION. 171 
 
 " Come, come, Stanhope, this wont do. Tell me all 
 about it." 
 
 Stanhope blushed very deeply. 
 
 " Well, well, mother, I'll tell you. I am in love, and, 
 with your approbation, I shall shortly be married to Ge- 
 nevra Vincenzi." 
 
 " Genevra Vincenzi ! Where is she ?" 
 
 " At the house of her father, in Bond-street, New York." 
 
 " But how do you know this 1 Nothing has been heard 
 of her since she went to Europe with her father, now 
 more than two years ago." 
 
 " I see I must tell all, and we will make a good story 
 of it while we are about it." 
 
 They sat down in the conservatory, and Stanhope be 
 gan his recital, where our readers first met him talking 
 with the flower-girl, by the steps of the Church of the 
 Annunziata. 
 
 The story was finished. 
 
 " You will come to live with us when you are married, 
 will you not, Stanhope 1" as she embraced him, and 
 her eyes swam in tears of joy. 
 
 " Where else could we go, my dear mother ? It would 
 not be a home to me hardly would it be to Genevra 
 herself, if you were not with us !" 
 
 "You are my Stanhope still," she exclaimed, as she 
 again pressed the manly form of her son to her heart.
 
 172 ALSTON'S PAINTINGS. 
 
 To her, the future was sunshine ; for Burleigh had cast 
 no shadow on her spirit, although many a cloud was 
 flitting over his own. He had already thought too 
 much ; and in living over again, so vividly, the strange 
 history of his love, he craved the relief which we all feel 
 in the change which gives the heart repose, by the 
 contemplation of a new object. 
 
 The old man-servant softly opened the door, and 
 asked if he should extinguish the lights. 
 
 " No, no, Nathan ; not yet. I'll ring for you when 
 the time comes. Mother, I want to see that fine picture 
 of Alston, by candlelight. I have looked at it two or 
 three times, but the blinds have always been shut. Let 
 us go into the Library." 
 
 They sat before one of the matchless creations of the 
 great Poet-Painter of America. 
 
 " Is it not strange," said Burleigh, after he had gazed 
 upon it in rapt admiration for some minutes ; " is it 
 not strange that such a man as Alston, like almost all 
 our great artists, has been starved out of his country, and 
 compelled to live in Europe, where alone their pictures 
 were understood or appreciated ? Alston told me that 
 4 The Angel liberating St. Peter from Prison' was painted 
 for Sir George Beaumont ' Jacob's Dream' went into 
 the possession of the Earl of Egremont. He brought 
 his ' Elijah in the Desert' but it was purchased for
 
 THE IMAGE OK THE JESUIT. 173 
 
 Mr. Labouchere, a member of Parliament. The ' Uriel 
 in the Sun' went into the Gallery of the Marquis of 
 Stafford most of his best works are in Europe." 
 
 They moved on. 
 
 " There," said Mrs. Burleigh, " is the portrait of your 
 father, taken at your age." 
 
 Burleigh had seen it a thousand times, but he 
 started 
 
 "Why, mother, it seems a portrait of myself !" 
 
 " Yes, for you are just like your father. And there is the 
 picture of your grandfather; and there, of your great 
 grandfather ; and there, of his father ; and there, the first 
 of your ancestors who came to America." 
 
 " And, to my liking," said Burleigh, " the finest-look 
 ing fellow in the lot." 
 
 " Why should he not have been, Stanhope ? for you 
 know he was one of the bravest and the best that stood 
 upon the deck of the May Flower, as she swung to her 
 moorings off Plymouth Rock." 
 
 "He," she continued with a look of pride, "left his 
 history in the history of New England. There is 'a 
 name,' Stanhope, ' that was not born to die.' " 
 
 Burleigh remembered the history of that heroic, 
 liberty -loving, God-fearing man. He stood with his gaze 
 riveted for a while upon the face of his ancestor. A 
 shudder came over him. He looked again. His ances-
 
 174 WHAT IS IT ! 
 
 tor's face had disappeared, but in its place lie saw the 
 wily image of Jaudan, the Jesuit. 
 
 " What is it !" exclaimed Mrs. Burleigh. 
 
 Stanhope drew a long sigh. 
 
 " You must be fatigued, I think, my dear mother." 
 
 She was fatigued ; but she would have given a great 
 deal to have known what Stanhope was thinking of.
 
 THE CONCLAVE. 175 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE COUNSELLOR OF THE JESUITS. 
 
 LATE the same evening that witnessed the genial gather 
 ing of Stanhope's friends in the mansion of his fathers, 
 Hubert was sitting in his library, in earnest conversation 
 with O'Donnell, the Counsellor of the Company of Jesus 
 in the United States. 
 
 " This is the best I can do for you, Hubert," said the 
 Counsellor. " Suppose, now, that we lay the plan before 
 Jaudan himself?" 
 
 At that instant the door opened, and the General of 
 the Company entered. 
 
 " This cigar, gentlemen, is quite too good to throw 
 away, if you will excuse the vices of an old campaigner." 
 
 Hubert and O'Donnell may have had vices enough of 
 their own, but smoking was not in the category. They 
 were both nervous Irishmen ; too restless by instinct to 
 like repose. Jaudan's native impxilsiveness had been 
 toned by mezzo giorno influences ; he loved a good cigar 
 he did not merely like it. He had lingered at the hos-
 
 176 THE COUNSELLOR OF THE JESUITS. 
 
 pitable table of his host to drink a few more glasses of 
 Billecart Salmon's Vcrzenay Champagne, his favorite 
 wine in Europe ; and important as was the business in 
 hand, with that consciousness of power which is the in 
 heritance of men who are born to command, he had dis 
 played none of that fretful anxiety which had prevented 
 the Counsellor from enjoying his dinner, and which nov/ 
 threatened Hubert himself with an indigestion. They 
 both rose, and with every sign of respect, welcomed the 
 great man. 
 
 " Par ndbile fratrum ! I hope I bring with me no coun 
 ter eddy to disturb the progress of your serene thoughts." 
 
 Both bent before the man who controlled the Catholic 
 World. 
 
 Jaudan recognised the compliment with his usual 
 grace, and slided away unostentatiously into the large 
 easy chair, which had now become his favorite lounging- 
 place in Hubert's library. 
 
 " Gentlemen," he said in admirable English, " I am so 
 enraptured with this great metropolis and its environs, 
 that I have hardly the courage to come down to-night 
 or, rather, to go up to the business which has brought 
 us together." 
 
 " And yet, General, you know we must have your 
 counsel." 
 
 " Yes, my noble brother, you shall but I cannot throw
 
 THE BLACK CASKET. 177 
 
 away my cigar just yet ; and I beg you will go on with 
 your scheme ; for, after all, you hold the reins here ; you 
 are driving your own steeds now, and what is more, you 
 know the road. I shall hear all you say, and I may 
 have now and then a word to say myself." 
 The General sank back in his fauteuil, and Hubert 
 and the Counsellor of the Jesuits went once more ear 
 nestly to their work. 
 
 Their business was to possess themselves of the im 
 mense estates of Vincenzi at all hazards. O'Donnell 
 was soon put in possession of all the important facts in the 
 case. Nothing was withheld from him for Jesuits are 
 too wise to risk the consequences of stating half a case to 
 a counsellor. 
 
 " Can you lay your hand upon that will, General ]" 
 
 " I think so, brother Hubert ; will you hand me my 
 Casket from the safe ?" 
 
 Hubert took from his pocket a small key, with which 
 he opened the iron safe that stood in one corner of his 
 library, and handed Jaudan the same black Casket on 
 which the reader saw him gazing so intently, in the 
 Octagon Tower of Sant' Ambrogio. This Casket con 
 tained the choicest treasures, both in papers and jewels, 
 which Jaudan had been able to save from the wreck of 
 the Italian Revolution. It would have been curious to 
 have heard the history of those jewels ; how they had 
 
 8*
 
 173 VINCENZl'S WILL. 
 
 adorned many a coronet in Europe, and from the fore 
 heads, the necks, the arms, and the fingers of princesses, 
 they had flashed in the palaces of decadent or fallen 
 dynasties. If it had not been more curious, it would cer 
 tainly have been more startling, to have read the history 
 of the papers. But for the most part, Jaudan kept these 
 things to himself. He had no dread of confiding in other 
 people ; for he read character almost infallibly. But he 
 made it a rule never to confide in others, any further than 
 he found it necessary. Taking from the Casket the will 
 which Vincexzi had executed in Italy, he handed it to 
 O'Donnell. 
 
 " Ah ! it is in English ; that is a good beginning." 
 
 They all sat in silence, while the Counsellor read the 
 paper. 
 
 " This paper is well drawn," he said. " It is duly 
 witnessed and authenticated by the American Consul, 
 with his seal. General, is there a copy of this paper 
 recorded, or left on file in the Consulate ?" 
 
 " No, Counsellor ; but a record was made of its 
 legalization, on the books of the Office." 
 
 " Well, that will do ; for, if it becomes necessary, the 
 Secretary of State, at Washington, can add his certificate 
 to the genuineness of the seal and signature of the 
 Consul. Now, General, what do you propose to do with 
 this paper ?"
 
 O'DONNELL'S OPINION. 179 
 
 " To learn, first of all, Counsellor," replied Jaudan, 
 " if it is all regular and valid ; and if, under your laws, it 
 will hold good." 
 
 " Why, doubtless the paper is properly executed ; but 
 as Vincenzi is a citizen of New York, and is now here, it 
 occurs to me that it would be better to have him go 
 through the formality of executing the will again ; for it 
 will save us delay, perhaps ; and it will cost very little to 
 do it, if he is still of the same mind." 
 
 " But, Counsellor," inquired Jaudan, " this seems to 
 be a delicate business. Suppose Vincenzi should object ?" 
 
 " Then, all you have to do, is to be certain that he 
 makes no other will, at a later date, to set aside this 
 disposition of his property." 
 
 " But, Counsellor, are there no laws in the State of 
 New York to prevent Vincenzi from disinheriting his 
 daughter ? We have encountered some serious diffi 
 culties in other countries, when estates of far less value 
 than this have been bequeathed to the Company of 
 Jesus." 
 
 " No. The only question that would arise, if an 
 attempt were made to break this will, would be whether 
 it were made under suspicious circumstances ; such, for 
 instance, as whether the Testator was in sound body and 
 mind, and competent to make a will. What was^ his 
 state then ?"
 
 130 DANGER AHEAD. 
 
 " He -was in delicate health ; but entirely competent, 
 in every respect, to dispose of his property." 
 
 * Can you prove this, if necessary ?" 
 
 " I think there would be no difficulty in the case. Is 
 not the certificate of the Consul sufficiently clear?" 
 
 " No, it is not sufficiently clear ; for it is made only in 
 the usual form, and this is an unusual transaction. It 
 would have been far better, if he had added the important 
 item that Mr. Vincenzi was not only known to him to be 
 the person who executed the act, but to have been, to his 
 own knowledge and belief, in a sound state of body and 
 mind ; for you see, if a question should arise, you would 
 be obliged to send to Italy -, and then your Consul might 
 be dead, or the Records destroyed, or something else. 
 On the whole, therefore, General, I should recommend 
 that you lose no time in getting a new will executed ; 
 for I confess that I should feel some apprehension, feince 
 the estate is so very large, if this will were contested. 
 You say Vincenzi cannot live long, and that he some 
 times relents towards his daughter. She may not go 
 into a Convent at all. Then what is to become of the 
 estate 1 It would not be safe to forget, that, in spite 
 of all the liberality which our laws and institutions show 
 towards foreigners and Catholics, we cannot rely upon 
 any special favor in our Courts of Justice. They are 
 swayed to a great extent by Public Opinion ; and Public
 
 A PROPHECY FULFILLED. 181 
 
 Opinion can be manufactured by the newspapers pretty 
 fast. General, this is preeminently a Protestant nation. 
 There is no special uproar yet raised against foreigners 
 or Catholics, and we hardly hear a word against the 
 Jesuits ; but I am very much mistaken if there is not a 
 spirit abroad in this country, which will break out into a 
 storm of indignation against foreigners and Catholics, 
 before many years have gone by ; and I am equally 
 certain that the first bolt of indignation will fall upon the 
 head of the Company of Jesus." 
 
 Hubert looked disturbed, It was not the first time the 
 Counsellor of the Jesuits had given him that hint, and 
 he had been often apprehensive on this point himself; 
 but he did not feel particularly thankful to O'Donnell for 
 introducing the matter, in that naked shape, to his Gene 
 ral, only a few days after he had landed. 
 
 " Counsellor," replied Hubert, " I know you have some 
 such fears ; but there is time enough, at all events, to 
 arrange this affair, before any of your apprehensions can 
 be realized ?" 
 
 " My excellent Hubert, I trust there is time enough 
 for this affair, and a great many others ; but you would 
 not think me a safe legal adviser, if I rocked you to sleep 
 while you were approaching a precipice." 
 
 " Counsellor," remarked Jaudan, " I like your caution. 
 For my part, I think if we are to be alarmed at all, we
 
 182 THE BATTERIES OF PUBLIC OPINION. 
 
 had better get frightened before the storm comes, and 
 then we can prepare for it." 
 
 x. 
 
 " Therefore, I recommend a new will, or, at least, a 
 re-execution of the old one ; and, it seems to me, at the 
 same time, it would be well if there were a more specific 
 and minute designation and enumeration of the various 
 estates, stocks, goods, and chattels of the testator. It 
 will be a hopeless undertaking to try to carry through an 
 affair of the kind, and get some ten or twelve millions 
 into your hands, without exciting suspicions against you : 
 and I am not particularly fond of exposing myself to the 
 merciless batteries of Public Opinion, especially in a case 
 of this kind. To lose a game here, before the Supreme 
 Court of the United States, would not be very creditable 
 to me : and as for the Company of Jesus, it would come 
 very near winding up its history in the United States. 
 Where is the difficulty in getting Vincenzi to confirm this 
 will ? Have you tried him ?" 
 
 " Not recently," said Jaudan ; " but I will." 
 " Of course his Confessor is with him ? and probably 
 still acti-ng as his physician ?" 
 
 " Yes," replied Hubert, " and he does not leave him." 
 "Ah ! that is well," said O'Donnell. " How was he 
 affected by the voyage, and what is his health now ?" 
 
 " I saw him to-day," said Jaudau, " and I think the 
 voyage has done him some good. He is getting quite
 
 WHAT SHOULD BE DOME WITH GENEVBA ? 183 
 
 vigorous ; and, to tell you the truth, Counsellor, I feel 
 somewhat apprehensive on this point ; but if we break 
 down in our plan of getting him to give us the new will 
 before good witnesses here ; and if we fail in establishing 
 the validity of this will after his death, we have one good 
 chance left." 
 
 " What is it, General ?" 
 
 "We can, if necessary, you know, send Genevra 
 abroad." 
 
 A pause succeeded ; but it would be doing great 
 injustice to these three gentlemen to suppose that their 
 feelings would have been shocked by any suggestion 
 which promised them success in their great but difficult 
 plan. 
 
 "And," added O'Donnell, with his ordinary self- 
 possession, "it seems to me that you have one other 
 resource left, which, somewhat to my astonishment, you 
 have not thought of, since it is a spiritual measure" 
 
 " Well, Counsellor," said Jaudan, taking another 
 pinch of snuff, while Hubert was evidently growing 
 nervous 
 
 " Vincenzi is in your hands. Your machinery must be 
 working very badly if you cannot bend his naturally 
 amiable, and now enfeebled mind, to your purposes ; and, 
 above all, when the grand trial comes, and he feels that 
 the last hour is approaching, then, of course, bring in the
 
 184 A JESUIT LAWYER. 
 
 tapers and crucifixes, and if these will not do, send for a 
 weeping Virgin Mary ; and if you fail here, bring in the 
 relics of some Saint ; and if this is ineffectual, let him die, 
 and you can make Mm sign the wM after he is dead /" 
 
 Jaudan's face brightened : he felt safe. Hubert Was 
 not quite as great a villain, because he was not quite as 
 great a man and the flush on his cheek revealed a 
 countenance partially disturbed. 
 
 With the utmost serenity, O'Donnell added " Gentle 
 men, I suppose this is a legal process, to recover ten or 
 twelve million dollars. I conclude that if the work is to 
 be done, you will not be likely to hesitate at the means. 
 General, will you favor me with another pinch of that 
 fine snuff?" 
 
 It might perhaps be called a strange spectacle, which 
 we have asked our readers to look on ; and it may 
 frankly be confessed, that the coolness with which these 
 three gentlemen contemplated and arranged the deep 
 wrong they were about to perpetrate, was worthy of 
 special observation ; but the reader must not forget we 
 are dealing with Jesuits, and tmcommon Jesuits at that. 
 Sometimes lawyers who are heavily fee'd, advise their 
 clients with the single object of enabling them to win 
 their cases. Counsellor O'Donnell allowed his clients to 
 shoulder the responsibility, whether he lost or won ; and 
 very few of his clients ever complained that their cases
 
 THE CONCLAVE BREAKS UP. 185 
 
 went against them. Hubert was sensitive on the score 
 of Public Opinion. He did not wish to get into bad 
 odor. For this reason, a dark deed of the kind just 
 plotted, gave him a species of mortification apprehen 
 sion or something like it ; for it was not a twinge of 
 conscience. It may have been a pang of remorse. 
 O'Donnell had nothing of this kind ; for he was sure 
 that he never would be caught napping ; and his life 
 at the bar had burned out everything which men call 
 conscience, and left what men call the ashes of it, in the 
 socket of his soul. As for Padre Jaudan, the idea that 
 any feeling or sentiment, human or inhuman, should 
 throw the weight of a. feather into the scale when the 
 Institution of Loyola was at stake, is a thought that 
 would be a poor compliment to the supreme Commander 
 of the Company of Jesus. 
 
 The business of this triune conclave was finished. By 
 general consent, it was dismissed. We are now to see 
 how the plot moved on.
 
 186 THE VICTIM OF THE JESUITS. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIIL 
 
 THE SICK MAN. 
 
 SPRING had already ripened into midsummer. Vincenzi 
 v had somewhat rallied from his former prostration, and 
 was enabled to ride out, and sometimes join his daughter 
 and Inez in the drawing-room. His eyes often filled 
 with tears, and his heart with relentings, as he marked 
 Genevra's pale cheek, and listless step, which became 
 heavier, day by day. She had been the most devoted 
 and affectionate of nurses whenever her father had 
 permitted her to be so : but often, after hours of the 
 tenderest communion, and sympathy, he would suddenly 
 become stern and gloomy, and deny her his presence for 
 whole days. Vincenzi had naturally a generous heart ; 
 and if he had not fallen into the hands of the Jesuits, he 
 would have made the best of husbands and fathers ; but 
 inheriting immense wealth, and having committed the 
 crime of marrying a heretic, he seemed a lawful prey to 
 his wily Confessor, who, through the most plausible 
 intrigues, gained a footing in his house ; and from that
 
 GKNEVRA'S SUFFERINGS. 187 
 
 time, confidence and peace fled from it for ever. Cold 
 ness, estrangement, and persecution, had finally brought 
 Madame Vincenzi to the grave ; and her struggles stimu 
 lated the remorse of her husband, for having married, 
 and then sacrificed her it made his life a torment. He 
 vainly hoped to expiate his sin, in offering Genevra and 
 her wealth, as a holocaust to his offended Maker. 
 
 Genevra well knew the cause of these days of estrange 
 ment ; for there was always a dark frown, and a ghostly 
 voice, warning him to wean himself and his daughter 
 from the things of earth, if he hoped to expiate his former 
 transgressions. Genevra endured all this without com 
 plaint; but her lonely pillow was often wet with the 
 tears she shed for her poor father's infatuation. She had 
 found consolation, and sometimes even pleasure, in the 
 lively companionship of Inez. But then, at times, Inez, 
 too, was most unaccountably cold, depressed, and re 
 served. She had received no word, written or verbal, 
 from Stanhope. She thought she had seen him once or 
 twice pass the house ; but it was only a glance of his re 
 treating form those dear, anticipated tokens had never 
 come. Often did Genevra's heart say within her 
 " Would not a Convent be a refuge from all these 
 anxieties ?" But hope was more often the buoyant 
 guest ; and she would not, could not doubt the faith 
 of Stanhope.
 
 188 JAUDA.M AND O'SULLIVAN. 
 
 For her father's sake, and to escape the stifling heat 
 of the town, Genevra would gladly have gone to the 
 country. But it did not suit the views of the Confessor, 
 nor the plans of Jaudan, that Vincenzi should be exposed 
 to other influences ; and as he was somewhat better, he 
 languidly yielded to their advice. 
 
 " No," said the General to his accomplice, " we will 
 have none of this visiting at watering-places, nor going 
 into the country. He would meet old acquaintances, 
 from whom we have cut him off for nearly three years ; 
 and very likely the girl might come across this Burleigh, 
 and be enticed away again. I have sometimes seen him 
 in the streets, and he hovers constantly about here ; but 
 as long as he knows that she is in New York, and in her 
 father's house, he will be quiet. But, 'Sullivan, does 
 Vincenzi say anything about his will ?" 
 
 "Yes, father, he has spoken of it often, lately. His 
 mind is always troubled after he has seen his daughter ; 
 and though he is still resolute that she shall never wed 
 this heretic, he thinks he could, after all, leave her a 
 portion of his wealth, and save her from a Convent, 
 which she so much dreads, on condition that she will 
 abandon the creed of her mother, and go willingly, with 
 heart and soul, into the Holy Church. She will do 
 neither ; girls of her age care little for money : and I 
 believe she would sooner sacrifice her love for Stanhope,
 
 GRNEVRA'S CHARACTER. 189 
 
 than give up her creed. Her mother was a woman of 
 superior qualities among them was indomitable resolu 
 tion, whenever she thought she was right. Her daughter 
 does not lack this characteristic, and besides, she has 
 a deep detestation of our religion, and all its ceremonies. 
 I have myself seen her lips curl with the intensest scorn, 
 whenever she has been obliged to go to mass ; and when 
 she witnessed the adoration of the worshippers, as the 
 host was elevated, she looked as people seldom look, who 
 are ever to be embraced in the holy arms of the Church." 
 
 "No, O'Sullivan, nothing but fear, or stratagem, will 
 bend this girl to our bidding. Keep her from her father 
 as much as possible, and see, above all, that no papers 
 are drawn, or wills made or altered, without my know 
 ledge. There may be more depending upon this matter 
 than you imagine, O'Sullivan, and " he continued, as 
 he gave to the Irish priest a significant look, " if you 
 manage this matter with great ability and precaution, 
 I can give you nty word for it, that you will bless the 
 day we had this little talk together." 
 
 O'Sullivan bowed, with great reverence, before his 
 master. 
 
 " No fear of that, father ; I never leave him. He has 
 not a thought or feeling that he does not impart to me. 
 In fact, he is at the Confessional, so to speak, twenty- 
 four hours every day. I sleep on the lounge in his room,
 
 190 THE CONFESSOR. 
 
 and if he stirs, I am by his side. But, father, our Avork 
 is nearly done. This rallying of strength is but a 
 transient affair. The first blast of an American autumn 
 will snap the feeble thread that holds him to life, as 
 the withered leaves are swept by the gale."
 
 INEZ AND JAUDAN. 191 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 INEZ AND JAUDAN. 
 
 INEZ was a happy, generous spirit; and the part she 
 was playing towards Genevra often irritated her beyond 
 endurance. But Jaudan saw her almost every day 
 sometimes oftener and while he held out to Genevra 
 the hope that her father was fast recovering, and that 
 they would enjoy long years together (he emphasized 
 the word together], he lost no opportunity of questioning 
 Inez about the state of Vincenzi's household, and how 
 she was getting on in the work given her to do. 
 
 " You can see it, Monsieur, by one glance" at Made 
 moiselle," said Inez, petulantly, one day. " She already 
 begins to doubt the faith of Burleigh, all of whose 
 missives of love I have stopped and it is killing her, 
 Monsieur." 
 
 " So much the better, then, my charming Inez," said 
 Jaudan, " she will give us less trouble. Has he tried to 
 see her ? " 
 
 " Personally, no ; but he has written to her often ; and
 
 192 THE UNWILLING SPY. 
 
 sent her books and flowers, and some objects of taste, and 
 bijouterie." 
 
 " Did she get them 1 " said the Jesuit, scrutinizing 
 Inez closely. 
 
 "No, Monsieur," she replied, as her tears began to 
 fall. " I secreted or destroyed them. Did you not tell 
 me to do so ? Oh, Monsieur ! I lied to her ; I deceived 
 her ; and I hate myself for it," she cried passionately. 
 
 " Leave the room, Mademoiselle," said Jaudan, in a 
 voice of withering rebuke. "Hereafter never let me 
 witness such a scene as this." 
 
 Inez was deeply wounded, and she was too proud and 
 generous withal not to resent insult. She hesitated an 
 instant. Her pride came to her relief she would not 
 reply to a man whom, for the first time in her life, she 
 despised. She obeyed, and closed the door behind her, 
 as Jaudan exclaimed in a burst of rage 
 
 "A plague upon all women. I had rather try to con 
 trol a score of men, than one of these tender-conscienced, 
 tear-shedding creatures ; and yet," he added, more calm 
 ly, "all goes well. Inez is getting somewhat restive, 
 but she has gone too far. on our road to recede, and I 
 think the little witch, with all her genius and boldness, 
 does not dare absolutely to disobey me."
 
 LNEZ AND STANHOPE. 193 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 INEZ AND STANHOPE. 
 
 EARLY one morning, as Inez was going out to make some 
 purchases for herself and Genevra, in descending the 
 steps, she saw Burleigh slowly walking down on the 
 opposite side of the street, looking up towards the win 
 dows of the house. He was hoping, doubtless, to catch 
 some glimpse of Genevra. Inez recognised him instant 
 ly, bowed and smiled. If Genevra herself had appeared, 
 he could scarcely have been more surprised than he was 
 at this salutation. His heart whispered, " Perhaps it is 
 some friend of Genevra's, who has a message for me " 
 and he flew to the side of Inez. 
 
 "Bon jour, Monsieur Burleigh. I am happy to see 
 you looking so well, after our voyage in the Stormy 
 Petrel," said Inez, in her pertest and most piquant man 
 ner. Stanhope gazed a moment into those brilliant, 
 saucy eyes, dimpled cheeks, and the downy crescent 
 above her smiling mouth. 
 
 " Good Heavens ! " cried he,, seizing her hand, "you 
 9
 
 194 CARLO OR INEZ ! 
 
 are Carlo ! I shoiild have known you among a thousand. 
 How is Genevra ? Is she well ? Tell me ! " 
 
 " Softly, softly, Monsieur Burleigh. Do not overwhelm 
 me with too many questions. Which shall I answer 
 first ? Of course of Genevra. She is well and happy." 
 
 " Happy ! " sighed Burleigh. " Thank God ! it is 
 more than I can say for myself. But tell me of your 
 self, Miss Carlo. What does all this mean ? " looking 
 at her gracefully flowing dress " and your coming from 
 the house of Miss Vincenzi, too 1 " 
 
 " Have a little patience, Monsieur Burleigh. If you 
 can leave your post," she said, archly, " and walk with 
 me awhile, I will explain matters ;" and as they went 
 on she gave him the same explanation, as far as she 
 could, that had already been given to Genevra. 
 
 " But have you no idea of the nature of the danger 
 that menaced you in Italy V . 
 
 " Not the least ; but Padre Jaudan has promised that 
 in good time I shall hear everything about the past 
 which concerns me." 
 
 " Well, Miss Inez for I think that is the name you 
 have taken ?" 
 
 " Yes, Monsieur ; I am Inez now." * 
 
 " Well, Miss Inez," said Burleigh, something after his 
 old manner of addressing her, ''you are still a myth, it 
 seems ; but, I must confess, you make a very pretty
 
 A BMISH OF PI.RASURE. 195 
 
 girl, and I think some of my sex will not regret the 
 change." 
 
 Inez turned aside to hide the blush of pleasure that 
 suffused her face, and then walked on for a few moments 
 in silence. Stanhope seemed to have forgotten that she 
 was by his side, and had fallen into anxious thoughts, 
 trying to fathom all these mysteries. She raised her 
 eyes passionately to his face as she noticed his abstrac 
 tion, and, for the first time, was struck Avith his altered 
 appearance. He certainly looked thinner, and a care 
 worn expression had settled about his eyes and mouth. 
 Inez' heart smote her, for she felt that she could have 
 made both him and Genevra happy ; and she said ten 
 derly : 
 
 ' Mr. Burleigh, you seem sad ; are you not well ?" 
 " Yes, Inez ; well in body, but ill at heart. You see 
 Genevra constantly. You must know all that I so much 
 desire to know of her happiness and welfare. Are you 
 really her friend ?" 
 
 The lips of Inez quivered, but she said firmly : 
 " To be sure I am ! Why should I not be ?" We are 
 companions ; and, Mr. Burleigh, if there be an angel on 
 the earth, it must be Genevra." 
 
 " Thank you, thank you, Inez ; I know it must be im 
 possible to live with her and not love her. But tell me 
 something more ; how is her father 1 Does he still
 
 19G STANHOPE'S ANXIETY. 
 
 entertain the idea of sending his daughter to a Con 
 vent ?" 
 
 " Mr. Vincenzi is better than he has heen for some 
 time ; and you need give yourself no uneasiness on the 
 subject of the Convent ; her father says nothing of it 
 now." 
 
 A heavy weight was lifted from Burleigh's heart. 
 
 " Do you know if Miss Vincenzi has received any 
 flowers or books from an unknown hand this summer ?" 
 he inquired anxiously. 
 
 " Oh ! I understand now. It was you that sent them. 
 They came, and were duly cherished, you may be sure," 
 said Inez, with the serpent on her lips and misery in her 
 heart. " But, Mr. Burleigh, you must not be too often at 
 your post in our street, nor send too many gifts to Ge- 
 nevra, for the nose of Padre O'Sullivan will scent every 
 clandestine step or object, as the bloodhound scents his 
 prey." 
 
 "Oh, Inez!" said Stanhope, passionately, " will you 
 not be a friend to Genevra and me ? We so much need 
 your help and sympathy. Will you not tell her IIOAV 
 much I love her ; that I never forget her night or day ; 
 that I have walked before her windows to catch a 
 glimpse of her form, or even to see her shadow on the 
 curtains, till the dews of night have hung on my hair, and 
 my spirit has been worn out with disappointment ?"
 
 l.XEZ A\D STAXHOl'E PART. 197 
 
 " It is useless for you to do so, Mr. Burleigh ; for, 
 under the pretence of shutting out the light and noise, 
 Padre O'Sullivan, who is the only master of the house 
 now, insists upon keeping the front blinds and windows 
 closed until after dark ; and, indeed, if it were not for the 
 balcony at the back of the house, with the little garden, 
 we might as well be nuns, for all the light and air we get 
 in-doors. But never fear," she added gaily, " I will tell 
 Genevra what you say, although I can take nothing to 
 her. I go in here," she said, turning into a lace store, 
 " so addio ! " 
 
 Holding her hand for a moment, Burleigh said, " Will 
 you not see me again, Inez ? I shall be in New York 
 now for a long time. Let me meet you again, and bring 
 me some word from Genevra." 
 
 " Yes, we shall meet again ; so have patience," and 
 with confusion and haste she bade him adieu, feeling that 
 her powers of dissimulation were fast giving way.
 
 1<)CJ INEZ ALONE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 INEZ AND GENEVRA. 
 
 WHEN Inez returned home, she felt that she could not 
 encounter the pure, confiding eyes of Genevra. She 
 hastened to her room, and throwing off her things, fell 
 upon the couch, and gave way to a violent fit of weeping. 
 
 " Why had she been chosen to assist in this odious 
 plot ? What would Burleigh think of her, if he knew 
 all ? " 
 
 She writhed in torture at the thought. He had been 
 so frank and confiding. He had greeted her so warmly, 
 and looked so handsome and so good. 
 
 " Oh ! " she exclaimed, " I would gladly be Genevra 
 to have the love of such a being, even if I were forced 
 into a Convent. The remembrance of having been so 
 loved, would be happiness. What was it that so thrilled 
 my very being when he clasped my hand so fervently, 
 and said he would have known me among a thousand ? " 
 
 She paused a moment. 
 
 " Oh ! I am doubly wicked, for I envy poor Genevra
 
 tJENRVUA'S TB.XDURMESS. 199 
 
 the heart of Burleigh. Some demon must have taken 
 possession of me. Would I had never left the Convent 
 of Sant' Ambrogio, or put on these detested garments." 
 
 " May I come in ?" said the soft voice of Genevra, as 
 she looked in at the door ; but seeing the disordered 
 state of Inez, she flew to her, and bending over the 
 couch, made the most affectionate inquiries. But Inez 
 covered her face and sobbed aloud. 
 
 " My darling Inez, what has happened 1 Are you 
 ill ? are you unhappy ] Do tell me. You frighten 
 me ! " 
 
 But Inez could not speak; and motioned her away. 
 Genevra seated herself, and waited till Inez should be 
 more calm. Her sobs at last died away, and she 
 stretched out her hands 
 
 " Do not think me rude, or unkind ; but I have had a 
 long walk, and am weary and nervous." 
 
 Genevra poured some lavender into a glass of water, 
 and giving it to Inez, said 
 
 " My dear sister, the weather is too warm to take such 
 long walks. Our climate is not like that of Italy. Our 
 heat exhausts the strength, and withers the spirit, as well 
 as the body ; but you must sleep, and you will be quite 
 restored." 
 
 "Thank you, Genevra; you are the sweetest of 
 beings. I wish I could make you happier and gayer
 
 200 THE STRUGGLE OF TWO HEARTS. 
 
 than you are." This was the first time Inez had ever 
 invited Genevra's confidence. 
 
 " Oh ! " she cried, embracing Inez with enthusiasm 
 " you can make me happy. Tell me, Inez, do you ever 
 see Mr. Burleigh in New York ? You go out so much 
 more than I do, I have hoped you might meet him. 
 I so much long to hear from him. You know that he 
 is my betrothed, Inez." 
 
 Inez hesitated to reply. To confess that she had seen 
 and conversed with him, would be to involve herself 
 deeper in the meshes of duplicity, which the intrigues 
 of the Jesuits had already woven around her. She 
 would then have to dissemble to her benefactor. She 
 could not be deceitful to all. She pressed her hands 
 to her throbbing temples, and groaned aloud. 
 
 " No, no, I never see him. My head ! my head ! it 
 will burst." 
 
 " Oh, I am very selfish to tease you, my dear Inez. I 
 will go. Sleep sweetly " and drawing the curtains of 
 the bed, Genevra, with sadder spirits than ever, softly 
 withdrew from the room.
 
 HUBERT'S GREAT OBJECT. 201 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE TOOLS OF THE JESUITS. 
 
 THE Presidential Election was approaching, and Hubert 
 was setting his machinery in motion. "By common con 
 sent, the entire Roman Hierarchy in the United States 
 had confided their political interests to his hands. None 
 of his brethren in the Company of Jesus, doubted his 
 sagacity or discretion, while those of the Catholic Priest 
 hood who were not embraced in that Society, implicitly 
 followed the lead of Hubert. New York, therefore, was 
 the point they all looked to, for the political programme 
 of the election at hand. 
 
 There were two objects which lay very near Hubert's 
 heart. He attached almost as much importance to them 
 as he did to securing the estate of Vincenzi ; and neither 
 of them could be accomplished, except by the aid of 
 Legislation. The first was, to get laAvs passed in the 
 State of New York, organizing such a system of Public 
 Education, as would suit the peculiar views and purposes 
 of the Roman Church. Millions of dollars were every
 
 202 THE BIBLE A DISTRICT-SCHOOL BOOK. 
 
 year expended on Common Schools in the State. This 
 system of education had been built up by wise men. It 
 had been framed in the spirit of the American Govern 
 ment, American history, American life, and Amei'ican 
 feeling. The Bible was a district-school book. It was 
 read in schools, and any teacher of a public school who 
 chose, could have prayers and Scripture readings, to 
 open or close the exercises, as his inclinations or sense 
 of duty might direct. 
 
 This did not suit the views of Hubert. It did not 
 suit the Roman system it must be changed : and the 
 mighty machinery set up to educate its citizens, for 
 the responsible stations their country might call upon 
 them to fill, must be made to wheel in to swell the 
 current of Papal influence in the United States. New- 
 York was asked to make a separate appropriation from 
 the School Fund, for the education of Catholic children, 
 under a Catholic system. The American system, which 
 was one of complete toleration, was not deemed broad 
 enough ; and it was claimed as a right, that the children 
 of Catholic parents should draw their pro rata from the 
 Public School Fund ; since Catholic children could not be 
 educated in Republican Schools ! 
 
 Monstrous as these assumptions seemed, to every en 
 lightened and true republican whatever may have been 
 his religious creed Hubert believed that he could carry
 
 THE ROMAN HIERARCHY. 203 
 
 his point ; for, with nearly a hundred thousand Catholic 
 votes in the State of New York most of which he held 
 in his hand he would not find it a difficult matter to 
 strike a bargain with that political party which needed 
 his aid, to bring them into the ascendant. 
 
 His next object was to procure special enactments (in 
 flagrant violation of the spirit of our whole republican 
 system, and in direct conflict with the letter of organic 
 and statute law throughout the United States) empower 
 ing the Bishops and Prelates of the Roman Church 
 whether subjects of foreign princes or not, to hold 
 in their own right, the fee of all the real estate owned, or 
 to be owned, by the Church. It was thought possible to 
 carry even this point ; and when the two were gained, 
 the Roman Hierarchy would, in fact, as Hubert remarked, 
 be established upon firmer foundations in the American 
 Republic than it ever was under any monarchy in the old 
 world. Thus to sway the Legislation, and thus to mould 
 the Institutions of the first State in the Union, were 
 justly regarded as tantamount to achieving the same work 
 throughout the Confederacy, With such an example 
 before them, the same means that had produced this 
 result in New York would secure it in the other States. 
 
 Hubert had thought and planned anxiously, for years, 
 to gain these great objects. During the summer, he had 
 fully unfolded his plans to Jaudan, who, by this time,
 
 204 VVOOLSEY'S POLITICAL, CHARACTER. 
 
 had, in most respects, quite as clear, and in others a 
 clearer, conception of the actual state of things than his 
 brother Hubert. The plan, moreover, not only seemed 
 feasible, but it Avas actually being carried out. The 
 Jesuits had made no mistake in their estimate of the 
 difficulties to be overcome ; nor in the power of their own 
 resources. There was no collision here between the 
 Jesuits and their brother Catholics, who were not asso 
 ciated with their Order ; and therefore, the entire influ 
 ence of the Roman Church in the United States, would 
 be thrown in a single direction, for the accomplishment 
 of a single object. Nor had the Jesuits mistaken their 
 man they seldom do. 
 
 Woolsey had the reputation of being the best political 
 manager in his party. Bountifully endowed by nature, 
 with every quality that enters into the composition of a 
 man of culture and polish ; an adroit, unscrupulous poli 
 tician ; he was pretty sure of success in the plans he 
 adopted. He was, moreover, a Jesuit by instinct, 
 although he stood forward as the Champion of universal 
 liberty, and universal Right. He Avas the great Defender 
 of Religion, morality, sobriety, and purity, in public and 
 private life. He was even regarded as a most zealous 
 advocate of the principles of the Protestant Faith. He 
 had built the tombs of the prophets, and garnished the 
 sepulchres of the Righteous.
 
 THE CHARACTER OF FOUCH& 205 
 
 He had, also, efficient coadjutors, among whom were 
 two men who, in their time, had done much to guide the 
 thoughts, and shape the opinions of their countrymen. 
 
 The first, and elder of the two, was Fouche, who con 
 trolled a leading Journal in the interior of the State. He 
 and Woolsey had grown up in political life together. 
 Not gifted or great enough by nature, to rely, like such 
 men as Jackson, Calhoun, Clay, and Webster, upon strong 
 arguments and fair dealing, they preferred a circuitous 
 route, rather than to travel on the plain, open road. There 
 was nothing straightforward about them. They always 
 felt the necessity of being double-sided. They were 
 fond of machinery, but they wanted to work it them 
 selves. They had great faith in their ability " to man 
 age the people" first to inflame popular passions, and 
 then guide them ; consequently, they were always 
 ready for -agitation and fruitful in schemes for change. 
 They had first risen into notice, on the wave of the Anti- 
 Masonic excitement ; and they had gone on from humbug 
 to humbug, until, at last, after they had worn out every 
 thing else, they were obliged to confine their hopes 
 chiefly to the only fanaticism of the day, which was en 
 tirely national, since it extended to every corner of the 
 Republic, and which appearing to be founded on a 
 national basis, promised to last. Woolsey had, therefore, 
 hoped to be borne into the Presidential office, on the wave
 
 206 HOW WOOLSBY AND POUCHE HAD RISEN. 
 
 of Abolition fanaticism, as he had first been drifted up 
 from obscurity by joining the Anti-Masons ; many of 
 whom were doubtless sincere in their belief, that this 
 venerable institution, which numbers among its members 
 the Father of his Country, and all his companions in 
 arms, except Arnold, the traitor, was dangerous to the 
 peace and prosperity of the nation. 
 
 Throughout his career, Fouche had been to Woolsey, 
 what the Marquis Lorenzo had been to Jaudan in Eu 
 rope he had been his counsellor; and in tact, manage 
 ment, and comprehension of the drift of events, Fouche 
 was little, if at all, behind him. Their qualities were 
 different, but they blended by chemical affinity, into a 
 compound of mysterious and increasing power ; and yet, 
 their strength lay chiefly in " the rural districts," where 
 they had hoodwinked the people, with complete success. 
 They felt the necessity of strengthening their position in 
 the City of New York ; and in exploring that ground 
 years before, they had been especially lucky ; for fortune 
 had thrown in their way, a young man, who, for their 
 purposes, was probably without an equal. The means 
 were furnished for starting a campaign paper ; and as the 
 little sheet flew off from the press, on every wind, it 
 kindled a new kind of political fire. The little journal 
 started with a prestige which placed its success beyond 
 the reach of hazard.
 
 LOVECLACK THE EOITOlt. 207 
 
 Lovcblack was a difficult man to describe not in liis 
 person, for this could be painted, full length, in a word. 
 He was curiously made up, in all respects. Benevolent 
 and philanthropic in all his impulses, he had a deep sym 
 pathy for the masses of men, and was keenly sensitive to 
 wrong and injustice. These qualities made him what is 
 now popularly known as an innovator the epithet re 
 former, being too lofty and noble to suit his case. Per 
 haps his character would be still more accurately denned 
 by the term agitator. With many noble impulses with 
 many right principles and with motives far better than 
 most men are guided by, his misfortune lay in falling 
 into the hands of Woolsey and Fouche. They were 
 too much for him, for they took from him the mastery 
 of his own mind, so far as it suited their purposes ; 
 while they left him free as air to indulge in all the fanati 
 cism of his nature, whether it were the dream of the 
 Socialists and Fourierites, or any one of the thousand 
 short-lived illusions, which come and go like shadows, over 
 the heaving ocean of society. 
 
 Loveblack had become a famous man. He had headed 
 almost every fanatical movement, and been on almost 
 every side of every doubtful question ; bitt whatever he 
 did, was sure to be done under the guise of " bettering 
 the condition of men" " diffusing light and liberty" 
 " securing the greatest good for the greatest number"
 
 SOS ALL TH11KE TOOLS OF THE JESUITS. 
 
 ' elevation of the working classes," ending generally in 
 strikes "adding dignity to labor," and, in a word, 
 giving everything to everybody. He liad succeeded in 
 making a considerable portion of the people of the Uni 
 ted States north of Mason and Dixon's Line, believe 
 that he was a perfectly conscientious man a pure man 
 a real reformer an enlightened, although a somewhat 
 eccentric philosopher ; while people by the hundred 
 thousand, in the country districts, took him for a Saint. 
 It -will readily occur to the reader, that Loveblack was a 
 very useful man for carrying out the purposes of Wool- 
 sey and Fouche. It must be quite as apparent, that the 
 three together, could be made eminently useful to the 
 Company of Jesus.
 
 THli TWO YOUNG GIULS. 209 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 RIDE TO GREENWOOD. 
 
 ON a bright morning in early autumn, as Genevra met 
 Inez coming down from her room, she said with more 
 vivacity than she had shown for a long time 
 
 " Let us go to Greenwood this beautiful morning, Inez. 
 Padre O'Sullivan consents, if we will return before noon." 
 
 "Padre O'Sullivan consents!" repeated Inez, with 
 scorn. " His presumption is intolerable, and I do not see 
 how you can bear it, Genevra ; only I know you cannot 
 help yourself," she added. 
 
 " Yes, that is true ! If it were not for offending my 
 father, I would have the servants thrust him from the 
 house, as they would a thief, in spite" of his sanctity, I 
 can tell you, Inez," replied Genevra, as a flush of indig 
 nation glowed in her face, " but he has had dominion 
 here too long, for any woman's will to uproot him. But 
 we will go to Greenwood, and while we escape for a few 
 hours from his hateful tyranny, we will try to forget it." 
 
 An hour or two later, the carriage passed the Lodge,
 
 210 ANOTHER MEETINU. 
 
 and entered that magnificent City of the Dead. There 
 is a dreamy balminess in the atmosphere of summer's last 
 days, when the tired yellow maple leaf comes softly 
 down to the earth, which harmonizes gratefully with the 
 wearied spirit. The banks of Greenwood were still 
 fresh and green as emeralds. The old forest trees, over 
 shadowing the cool, clear, blue waters, made it a retreat 
 worthy of the Nymphs and Naiads that once haunted the 
 vales and mountain sides of Greece. The girls alighted 
 from the carriage, and sat down on a grassy bank by the 
 water's edge ; and though there was a barrier to confi 
 dence between them, yet an instinctive sentiment and 
 sympathy, drew their thoughts together. They talked 
 of Italy of the sacked Convent of the Sacred Heart at 
 Genoa ; and wondered what was the fate of the Sisters, 
 who had been driven forth into the world of Inez's 
 boyhood of everything but Burleigh, of whom alone 
 their hearts were full. 
 
 " Good morning, ladies," said a rich, manly voice be 
 hind them. They started to their feet ; and Genevra, 
 unheeding Inez, time, or place, with a cry of delight, 
 was instantly folded to the throbbing heart of Burleigh. 
 
 Pale, trembling, and speechless, Inez turned and 
 walked away, suffering, in that moment, grief enough 
 for a whole lifetime. 
 
 But time, sorrow, and separation, seemed to have fled
 
 GENEVRA A\D STANHOPE. 21 i 
 
 from the minds of the lovers, as they seated themselves 
 on the shady bank. They were together once more. 
 The past and its anxieties were forgotten ; and in the 
 ecstasy of certain fruition, they lived only in the present 
 and the future. They both looked so radiant and happy, 
 that they did not speak of health ; nor did Genevra 
 remember to reprove Burleigh for not having sent her 
 the promised flowers and tokens. He unfolded to her 
 listening ear his plans for the future, and described the 
 home he was already preparing for his bride. 
 
 " But, my dear Stanhope, we have many difficulties 
 yet to surmount. While my father lives, his consent 
 never will be given to our union ; and after his death 
 which I hope is far distant no effort will be spared 
 to turn me from my faith, and to persuade me to enter a 
 Convent. But I cannot, and I will not do it, of my own 
 free will ; and Padre Jaudan, who will most likely be ap 
 pointed my guardian, can certainly have no motive for 
 forcing me to it." 
 
 " Ah, Genevra ! I fear there is more in this desire to 
 send you to a Convent, than you suppose. I have been 
 making minute and careful inquiries ; and I find that your 
 father is esteemed rich rich enough to excite the cupidity 
 of men much better than the Jesuits." 
 
 " Is it possible, Stanhope ! " said Genevra, and putting 
 her hand to her forehead, after a pause
 
 212 ONE SCENE OF LOVE. 
 
 " I see ! I see !" she added. " It must be so. It can 
 not be for the salvation of my father's soul, that he is 
 thus eternally haunted by these Avretches ; and that I am 
 even denied the face of friends, and almost the very air 
 of Heaven. But, Stanhope, can we not give him the 
 treasure they are plotting for 1 I care nothing for it. I 
 would rather have one month of freedom with you, than 
 all the gold of California." 
 
 " My dearest, you echo the feelings of my own heart. 
 This little hand, penniless and abandoned by the whole 
 world, would be the most precious gift Providence could 
 bestow upon me. I have all the wealth, Genevra, that 
 you and I could wish for ; and if Jaudan will be satisfied 
 with your father's entire estate, he shall, with my con 
 sent, be welcome to it, and I will give him my blessing 
 too, if he will give me my Genevra. But these Jesuits 
 never do things by halves. Do you suppose they would 
 let us live on the same Continent with them, with the 
 secret knowledge of their wiles and villanies, even if that 
 knowledge were buried in our breasts 1 Would they feel 
 safe with your father's immense fortune and other for 
 tunes obtained by similar means, wherewith to build 
 churches and cathedrals, to found convents and colleges, 
 and throw new life and vigor into their vast machinery 
 of power, when they knew that the laws of the country, 
 if put into execution, would tear those treasures from
 
 GEXEVRA'S FATHER. 213 
 
 their grasp ? No, my beloved Genevra ! When the 
 struggle comes, it will be a Convent for life or a flight 
 with me." 
 
 " Then flight it shall be, Stanhope, if I have to fly 
 from the newly covered grave of my dear father. 
 And this thought," she continued, " is the cruellest of all. 
 I know my father loves me ; almost worships me. Some 
 times when we are alone, his heart seems bursting with 
 love and grief. He holds me in his feeble arms, and the 
 tears roll down his pale cheeks as he calls me by the 
 most endearing names, and says I am ' so much like my 
 lost mother.' " 
 
 "Genevra's eyes were now swimming in tears ; but there 
 was a luxury in any grief she could feel, in the presence 
 of Stanhope. 
 
 " One day my father said, ' Oh, Genevra ! what a con 
 solation it would be to me if I thought I could meet your 
 sweet mother in that happy land to which I am hasten 
 ing. But no heretic can enter into the Kingdom of God. 
 My child ! my child ! come to the arms of the Holy 
 Church, and bring your heart with you. Cast off these 
 soul-destroying heresies. I must have my Genevra, at 
 least, to live with in heaven.' " 
 
 " Poor old man," said Stanhope, soothingly, " we will 
 not doubt that our Heavenly Father, whose mercy is 
 greater than all the creeds and churches, will give many
 
 214 THE JESUIT APPEARS. 
 
 a happy reunion beyond the tomb ; nor that your 
 father's errors and delusions, in such a world as this, will 
 be forgotten, when he has gone where the wicked cease 
 from troubling, and the weary are at rest." 
 
 " Miss Genevra, I dare not stay any longer," said 
 Inez, approaching, and in an agitated voice, with her veil 
 closely drawn over her face. " It is already late, and I 
 am sure I see Padre Jaudan coming yonder." 
 
 " Do not be alarmed, my sweet Genevra," said Bur- 
 leigh, springing from the ground with her hand still in 
 his own, " Let Padre Jaudan come. We are in our own 
 free country, and man to man I'll meet him. Be calm 
 and hope for the best. Let nothing in the ^universe 
 shake your confidence in my unalterable affection. I 
 can wait, even if it should be for years ; and who knows 
 but your father may yet wake from his delusion, banish 
 these lurking Priests from his house, and assert his inde 
 pendence as a man, and his responsibility to God only, 
 for his religious duties? Then, Genevra, will come our 
 hour of triumph over these intriguing villains, and we 
 shall be rewarded for all we have suffered." 
 
 Jaudan now came up and with a somewhat ruffled 
 air, he accosted Stanhope, 
 
 " Good morning, sir." Then turning towards Ge 
 nevra and Inez " Now, ladies, please to enter the car 
 riage." Inez obeyed at once. Without returning Jau*
 
 STANHOPE AND JAUDAN. 215 
 
 dan's salutation, except by an irrepressible sneer of con 
 tempt Stanhope still clung to the hand of Genevra. 
 
 " Oh, Stanhope ! I must go. Remember my promise 
 to my father," she said, in a faint whisper. 
 
 " You have not broken it, Genevra ; it is but an acci 
 dent, or a Providence rather, that we have met at last," 
 he said, loud enough to be overheard by Jaudan. " I can 
 dispense with mystery, duplicity, and intrigue, in what 
 ever I do." 
 
 Burleigh led her slowly to the carriage. After she 
 was seated, he kissed her trembling hands passionately. 
 
 " Dry your tears, my beloved Genevra. Remember 
 that you are mine, and not all the Jesuits in Christen 
 dom shall tear you from me." 
 
 Jaudan was near enough to the carriage to hear these 
 words ; and observing Burleigh's agitation, he cast upon 
 him a fiendish glance of defiance. 
 
 " Mr. Burleigh, this is not a fit occasion for any further 
 conversation between us," the Jesuit said, and he 
 motioned him from the carriage door. 
 
 Burleigh was almost livid with rage ; but in the very 
 depths of his soul, there was one feeling that claimed 
 the mastery over all others, it was contempt. There 
 were no words that could have given expression to it. 
 Few men, in the longest lifetime, ever achieve more 
 control over their bad passions, than Burleigh had already
 
 216 VILLAIN PRIEST. 
 
 done. If he had been alone with Jaudan, whether it 
 were in a cemetery, or even in a Church, he would have 
 redressed any insult thus offered to an American, on his 
 own soil, by a Jesuit, and a foreigner, hardly three 
 months in the country. 
 
 " I will not create new perils or sufferings for Gene- 
 vra," he said to himself. He was at first tempted to 
 reply to Jaudan ; but once more, from his noble, manly, 
 truthful nature, disgust came up to stifle any expressions 
 of his feelings towards such a man. By a violent ges 
 ture, he threw his farewell to Genevra, as he fixed his 
 eyes on her vanishing form. As the carriage passed 
 round a turn in the road, he saw Genevra's kerchief 
 fluttering from the carriage window. It must have been 
 noticed by Jaudan himself. 
 
 " Brave girl ! " Stanhope exclaimed aloud. " That 
 was done in the presence of the General of the Company 
 of Jesus ; " and looking in that direction till the carriage 
 had disappeared, he folded his arms, and walked back 
 to the margin of the lake. He stood there with his eyes 
 fixed upon the still shadows of the luxurious branches of 
 the mighty elm that rose over his head, as they lay 
 sleeping upon the tranquil water. 
 
 " Villain Priest ! " he ejaculated. " I'll have a reckon 
 ing with him yet ! How long," he continued, as he 
 lifted his flashing eyes into the leafy sky over his head
 
 WHERE TO SEE GE.XEVRA AGAIN! 217 
 
 " how long must the land of Washington be desecrated 
 by such infernal villanies ! " 
 
 He wished now to say a thousand things to Genevra, 
 all of which he had forgotten during the interview. 
 They had not spoken of the possibility of communicating 
 with each other, nor of the trust-worthiness of Inez, of 
 whom, in spite of himself, he began to entertain some 
 suspicion. He struggled, however, to repel the doubt. 
 
 *" Poor girl," he thought, " she must be noble and true. 
 She loves Genevra, I am sure ; for her eyes were filled 
 with tears when Genevra wept. Genevra ! Genevra ! 
 where shall I see thee again ? " 
 
 If he Jiad only known where ! 
 
 Genevra had sunk back in the carriage, and given way 
 to a passionate flood of tears. She had sought the hand 
 of Inez, and the warm pressure she gave, relieved the 
 heart of the dark-eyed girl from a terrible weight ; for, 
 ashamed of herself, and mortified as she was, she was 
 sure her deceitfulness was still unsuspected. 
 
 It was not the policy of Jaudan to revolt or disgust 
 Genevra. At last, he said, kindly 
 
 " My dear young ladies, it is not proper that you 
 should go out to Greenwood alone in this way. I am 
 surprised that Padre O'Sullivan permitted it; and the 
 moment I learned what had happened, like a kind friend, 
 I hastened to overtake you. I am sure it was a mere 
 
 10
 
 218 SILENCE A.XD SUFFElllNU. 
 
 accident that you met Mr. Burleigh, for I know that he 
 arrived from Boston only last evening. But, my dear 
 Genevra, I was somewhat severe with him, for he knew 
 that he should not have detained you a single moment. 
 He is a fine young man, I am aware, despite some little 
 rudeness of manner." 
 
 Genevra could not, and did not make any reply 
 to these serpent words, and they rode home without 
 speaking.
 
 WOOLSEY AND HUBERT. 219 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 THE SECRET POLITICAL CONSPIRACY. 
 
 LATE one evening in the early part of October, in a 
 small upper chamber of a plain dwelling in Bayard 
 Street, proceedings took place of which the reader should 
 be informed. Two persons were sitting in close, earnest 
 consultation. They had been together for some time, 
 and had pretty nearly arrived at a good understanding 
 with each other, and the subject-matters of their con 
 versation. 
 
 " I entertain no scruples whatever," said Woolsey, 
 " in regard to promoting your views in reference to the 
 School Question ; nor do I see insurmountable objections 
 to the plan of placing the fee of your churches and insti 
 tutions in the hands of the Hierarchy : provided sufficient 
 caution is used not to arouse the apprehensions of Pro 
 testant sects. In Methodism, all the property of the 
 society is vested in the priesthood. Bishops of Confer 
 ences hold the Title Deeds of every place of worship, 
 and every parsonage. The priests, in their convocations,
 
 220 THE CATHOLIC VOTE OF XEW YORK. 
 
 take into their own hands the assignment of preachers to 
 the different congregations ; and the Methodist Hierarchy 
 and Priesthood really exercise as despotic a power as the 
 Catholics themselves. But, of course, you are aware 
 that it will be alleged, when the case comes up as 
 applied to you, that this power will be liable to great 
 abuse that you call for special legislation, setting aside 
 those statutes or constitutional provisions which exclude 
 foreigners from holding real estate ; and I naturally feel 
 some repugnance to enlisting in a hearty and effectual 
 advocacy of your cause, however right it may be in 
 the abstract. It wouhi probably raise a tempest about 
 my ears, that might cost me some of my cherished 
 plans." 
 
 " That is just the point I wanted to come to," said 
 Hubert. " You know that the Catholics of the State of 
 New York, cast nearly one hundred thousand votes. 
 These votes will be given, as a matter of course, to those 
 pitblic men, whatever party they may belong to, who are 
 prepared to stand by our interests. As Christians, it is a 
 matter of life and death to us to secure all the rights and 
 privileges which we deem necessary to our growth and 
 progress, and the secure tenure of what little property 
 we have, or may hereafter acquire. We have the ex 
 ample of the wanton destruction by the mob, a few years 
 ago, of the Catholic Convent at Charlestown, Massaclm-
 
 THE CONSPIRATORS STRIKE HANDS. 221 
 
 setts ; and we have found it impossible to get reparation 
 from the public authorities. Other scenes like this may 
 occur in the other States. Fanatical zeal may rise to 
 such a pitch as to sweep away all our church property, 
 and leave us without protection ; unless the laws of the 
 country are so modified as to shield us from these 
 dangers. If, therefore, Mr. Woolsey, you are ready to 
 give us your pledge to espouse our cause, heart and soul, 
 I offer you this hand, and with it all our vote. These 
 votes shall be at your command in every election in the 
 State of New York, no matter who may be your candi 
 dates/' 
 
 " You have it," said Woolsey, and they struck hands. 
 
 " But," he continued, " there is a matter of still greater 
 importance to us. Our Presidential candidate is in the 
 field, and he must be elected. I am by no means so 
 sanguine as many of my political friends in regard to the 
 result. The chances are, on the whole, in our favor ; 
 but I have learned to distrust appearances, the opinions 
 of others, and my own judgment, in regard to these 
 matters. What can you do for us in the National Elec 
 tion, now only one month ahead 1" 
 
 " The same that we shall do for you in the State of 
 New York on the same day provided you can answer 
 for the leaders of your party in other States, to do for as 
 in their Legislatures, what you are to do for us here."
 
 222 THE CATILIXE OF THE REPUBLIC. 
 
 " I cannot commit my friends absolutely ifl other 
 States, as, of course, you must well know ; but there is 
 time for me to bring about the understanding before the 
 election. This I shall lose no time in doing. Many of 
 the leaders are now in New York, or will soon be here ; 
 and I shall myself pass through Pennsylvania, Ohio, and 
 several other Western States ; while information can be 
 sent to them all through my channels of communication 
 with the same certainty that you can send information to 
 your friends, through your agencies." 
 
 " I have no objection, then, Mr. Woolsey, to give you, 
 with this understanding, the Catholic vote of the United 
 States for this election. But how positively can you 
 speak in reference to the appointments which the Presi 
 dent Avill have in his gift 1 We have always been pretty 
 well treated by your political enemies, whenever we have 
 given them our help. They appointed one of our 
 brethren Chief Justice of the United States Bench. 
 They have given us important missions abroad; they 
 have made our priests Chaplains in the public service ; 
 they gave us a large number of Postmasters ; we have 
 had seats in the Cabinet ; and they have been especially 
 liberal to our people in the distribution of places in all 
 the Custom Houses. Nor will it be contended, I fancy, 
 that these appointments have been unpopular, nor that 
 Catholics have not done their duty, wherever they have
 
 THE PRICE OF THE CATHOLIC VOTE. 223 
 
 been called into the public service. We feel that we are 
 too weak in this country to be able to afford, even if we 
 had the disposition, to desert our political friends, or help 
 our political enemies. This thing need not end with this 
 election ; we can make the alliance perpetual. Evenly 
 balanced as the two great political Parties always have 
 been, and are always likely to be in this country, we can 
 throw the decisive weight into your scale, and give you 
 a perpetiial hold of the reins of power." 
 
 " In answer to your inquiry, I may as well state at 
 once (since you have spoken with such extreme frank 
 ness) that our candidate, with whom I have conferred, 
 will be prepared to act with the utmost liberality. He 
 is a man of broad and liberal views ; nor would he 
 think of asking the question, whether an applicant for 
 office was a Catholic, any sooner than he would inquire 
 the religious belief of a subordinate officer, who was lead 
 ing his men to victory. Need I say any more ?" 
 
 " That is enough for the present. It will be necessary 
 now for us both to set our machinery actively at work, 
 and we must confer Avith each other frequently ; for great 
 as is the confidence which my Catholic brethren seem to 
 repose in me throughout the United States, I must put 
 the whole case before them, in order that they may see 
 that I am acting with discretion. I shall, doubtless, 
 encounter obstacles ; no undertaking of this kind can be
 
 224 THE CONDITIONS OF THE BARGAIN. 
 
 expected to go 'on without them. But, for the most part, 
 they can be overcome. I shall probably receive an inti 
 mation of the wishes of our most influential friends, in 
 different parts of the Union, and learn who are the men 
 they desire to have treated with special favor by your 
 candidate. The nomination of these men will be left 
 with them ; and, in a considerable number of cases, the 
 thing will assume such importance, that their appoint 
 ment will be the only condition upon which your party 
 can command their national vote." 
 
 " I hope, Hubert, that you are not disposed to drive- 
 too hard a bargain ?" 
 
 " By no means, Woolsey. We know exactly what our 
 votes are worth, and we shall expect only our just share in 
 the distribution of the spoils. But we shall meet often, 
 and, so far as Georgetown, Alexandria, Washington, Balti 
 more, Philadelphia, New York, Boston, and other large 
 towns are concerned, I shall hear from them within two 
 or three days. I shall then be able to tell you what our 
 friends want, and you can form a pretty accurate opinion 
 on the whole subject." 
 
 " This will continue to be our trysting-place ?" 
 
 " Yes," answered Hubert, " we will meet at any hour 
 either of us receives an intimation from the other." 
 
 " Since, then, we have fixed the conditions of our 
 mutual service, let me ask you, Hubert, what you
 
 JESUITS THE SAME EVERYWHERE. 225 
 
 think of the chances of our party in the Presidential 
 Election ?" 
 
 " Woolsey, I have never thought the prospects of your 
 candidate as fair as they are generally considered. But 
 with the shape things have taken to-day, with wise 
 management, and vigorous exertion, we shall carry him 
 to his place, without a doubt. This will be evident, and 
 you will see that without our vote you never would have 
 got your candidate in. We shall, therefore," concluded 
 Hubert, " expect to be pretty well treated ; and re 
 member, Woolsey, that you tricky politicians may trick 
 everybody but us." 
 
 " Upon my word, Hubert, this is pretty cool, coming 
 from a Jesuit." 
 
 They both laughed heartily, shook hands, and sepa 
 rated. 
 
 10*
 
 226 INEZ AND GENEVRA. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 THE MOTHER. 
 
 " I\EZ, I was thinking, while dressing this afternoon, 
 how curious it Avas that Stanhope did not recognise you 
 the other day, nor inquire who you were," said Genevra. 
 a few days after the ride to Greenwood. " He must 
 have known of your transformation, or chosen to take no 
 notice of it." 
 
 " You must forget, Genevra," said Inez, without look 
 ing at her friend, " that the moment he approached, I 
 dropped my veil and walked away ; besides, he was so 
 absorbed in you, that he would not have noticed a queen 
 with a crown on her head, if she had been there much 
 less poor little me." 
 
 Genevra blushed, and accused Stanhope and herself 
 of having been too forgetful of Inez. 
 
 " You know, my dear, that I have seen him but once 
 before, since our arrival," she said, " and we had so many 
 things to say to each other. One of these days when
 
 GENEVRA r S SOLILOQUY. 227 
 
 you find yourself in a like position, I will excuse you 
 for a little rudeness, if you please." 
 
 Inez sighed, and thinking how improbable it was that 
 she could ever love any one but Burleigh, she said, 
 rising 
 
 "Oh, I forgive you all sorts of neglects and selfishness 
 that you have, or may hereafter show. But I must now 
 go to the house of that poor American woman and her 
 little half-starved children ; for Father O'Sullivan is to 
 meet me there at this hour." 
 
 " Cannot I go too ? and we will carry the basket of 
 things we made for the baby." 
 
 " No, no, the Padre will think there are some heresies 
 in the basket if you go ; and the poor woman might for 
 get the new doctrines instilled by the good Father. 
 When we get this great nation well converted to the 
 Mother Church, you and I, Genevra, will become Lady 
 Abbesses of the two most splendid Convents the General 
 of the Jesuits can build." 
 
 This was said in a mocking voice, as Inez went 
 out. 
 
 " There is more likelihood of her being converted to 
 Protestantism herself, I fancy," thought Genevra; " for I 
 believe she really begins to hate Father O'Sullivan, and 
 I know she must fear Jaudan too much to love him ; for 
 I have observed lately, that she trembles when he comes
 
 228 A LETTER FOR L\EJJ. 
 
 near her. Poor girl ! I fear she is not happy, for she 
 grows less like the joyous Carlo every day." 
 
 As Inez was returning home, she saw Burleigh get 
 out of an omnibus hastily, and fearing he might see her, 
 and speak to her, she hurried on ; but she was several 
 blocks from home, and Stanhope soon overtook her. 
 
 " Miss Inez, I see that you meant to run away from 
 me ; but I would not be so rude as to detain you, if I 
 had not received a foreign letter for you." 
 
 " For me ! " cried Inez, in astonishment " who could 
 
 write to me ! I have not a friend in the world ! " 
 
 
 "Always excepting Genevra and myself," said Stan 
 hope, kindly, as he gave her the letter. " It came under 
 cover to me, with the request that I would find ' the boy 
 Carlo,' and give it privately into his hands." 
 
 There was no address on the letter, and the mystery 
 could be explained only by opening it. 
 
 " Thank you very much, Mr. Burleigh," said Inez, 
 " and you will excuse me now, for you must not walk 
 with me any further ; besides, you know I am anxious 
 to read my letter." 
 
 " One word, Mademoiselle." 
 
 " I know what it is. Yes, Genevra is well and happy, 
 and we did not get scolded for seeing you at Greenwood 
 Son jour, Monsieur," and she tripped away. 
 
 When Inez reached her room, and had locked the
 
 "MY BELOVED CHILD." 229 
 
 door, she sat down on the bed with the letter, fearing to 
 open it. She turned it every way ; but only a pure 
 white envelope met her gaze. It felt somewhat heavy 
 what could it contain ! She knew of no one who wouldL 
 probably write to her. , 
 
 " Yes, one might the Lady Abbess. Yes, it is hers. 
 What can she have to tell ? Of my parents 1 of my 
 mother 1" and with quivering fingers she tore it open. 
 
 " My beloved child." 
 
 At these first words, Inez sprang to her feet, with the 
 letter clasped in her hands. Her heart beat as if it 
 would suffocate her. She feared to read on. The 
 longed-for secret of her birth was disclosed. Would it 
 bring joy or sorrow ? 
 
 She knelt by the side of her white-robed couch. She 
 spread the letter before her, and addressing a prayer to 
 that pure Mother she had been taught to worship, she 
 read amid her blinding tears 
 
 "Mv BELOVED CHILD: 
 
 " When I parted from you at tjje door of the Convent, 
 it was most likely for the last time in this world, as I can 
 never hope to see you again. That parting broke my 
 heart ; and I shall gladly hail the hour which releases me 
 from my sufferings and my sins. Oh, Inez ! my loved, 
 my wronged, my tender child ! Did not youx heart tell
 
 230 INEZ' MOTHER. 
 
 you that it was to your mother's bosom you were so 
 wildly pressed ? A mother's tears that rained upon your 
 cheeks- ? I felt that you must know it ; but I dared not 
 confess it to you. 
 
 " But a few months more, and my wearied heart will 
 be laid in the grave. I cannot die until my soul is 
 unburdened.to you, and receives your forgiveness. 
 
 " Eighteen years of silence and grief have done their 
 slow but sure work ; and could I once more fold you to 
 my heart, and lay your beautiful head upon this breast 
 which was its first pillow I should die content. 
 
 " But no, you are separated from me by wide seas ; 
 and if I could come to you, I should not survive the 
 voyage. Your father start not, Inez ! yes, your father, 
 whose last letter you bore me, promised faithfully, that 
 means should be furnished for me to follow you and him. 
 But this, like too many other pledges, I find has been 
 broken. I am now sick and destitute, having taken 
 refuge in a poor Convent of Sisters of Mercy, where I 
 shall most likely pass the remnant of my life. But 
 thoughts of you continually haunt me. I sometimes 
 fancy you deserted, or made the instrument and sacrifice 
 of your ambitious father. He loves you, doubtless, my 
 child, but my heart tells me you will not be happy with 
 him. Jesuitism is the foe to happiness ; for it is the soul 
 of selfishness and ambition.
 
 .JAUDAM'S HISTORY. 231 
 
 " Eighteen years ago, Inez, like you, I was a gay, beau 
 tiful, happy girl, in the home of my father a good old 
 man and I his only child. My mother, I never knew ; 
 but my father was mother, father, sister, brother all in. 
 all to me. We lived among the wild, grand, and beauti 
 ful mountains of Granada. My young mind was fed 
 with the romantic stories of my native country, until 
 there was no real world to me ; and life seemed a 
 romance and a festal day. It was there I first knew 
 your father. He had just left the army, disappointed in 
 his ambition to attain the rank he had long coveted. His 
 health was somewhat impaired, and he came to restore 
 its vigor in the cool, pure air of our mountains. 
 
 " We met ; we loved ; and my darling child, may you 
 never know the wild, fervent, all-absorbing passion 
 awakened in my soul. You have but to look upon 
 him now; to listen to his voice; to imagine the im 
 pression he must have made upon the heart of a poetic 
 and susceptible girl. Oh, Inez ! it was not love ; it was 
 idolatry. Never have I before, or since, knelt to the 
 Virgin Mother, with half the adoration I felt for him. 
 The touch of his hand thrilled my soul with an ecstasy 
 which, even now, has not ceased to vibrate with the 
 remembrance; for crush, stifle it as I will, I feel that 
 I still love him ; and in my sleep, when the scenes of my 
 youth come back to me, his eyes, tender, loving, passion-
 
 232 THE HISTORY OF INEZ. 
 
 ate, melt into my heart ; I feel the soft waves of his hair 
 still passing over my cheek ; his hand clasped in mine, 
 and vows of eternal love still murmuring in my ear. But 
 I awake, and the cold pallet of a nun, and the stone 
 Avails of my room, are my only comforters. I stretch out 
 my arms, and in the darkness and hush of the night, my 
 soul calls for the embrace of my husband and my child ; 
 and the tardy morning finds my pillow wet with tears. 
 
 " Inez, my child, forgive me ! forgive me ! I must 
 not, I will not deceive you. He was your father, but 
 not my husband ! The blood rushes to my bursting 
 temples, and I hide my face with shame, as I confess to 
 your unsullied mind my degradation and my sins. But 
 my sufferings have expiated them, I trust, and cannot 
 my child forgive me ? 
 
 " Six happy, blessed months rolled away, and your 
 father left me, as he said, to prepare for our marriage, 
 which could not be consummated for some time to come. 
 I believed him. I would as soon have doubted my 
 religion as his truth. Months dragged on, and you were 
 born, my Inez. Then came terror and grief. But my 
 father, the poor old man ! had not suspected the shame 
 of his daughter, and your first cry broke his fond old 
 heart. He sank to the grave with grief and shame, 
 while invoking blessings on the head of his betrayed and 
 unhappy daughter.
 
 THE MOTHER'S GRIEF. 233 
 
 " It was six years before I saw your father's face 
 again. He wrote me often that he was coming, but he 
 never came. At last he sent for me to come to him, with 
 my little one, to Genoa. I took my all the little wealth 
 left me by my father and obeyed him. But who can 
 paint my grief, when I found he had taken the vow of 
 celibacy for ever, and was already anticipating the 
 highest office among the disciples of Loyola ? You will 
 understand the rest. To hide our guilt and my sorrow 
 from the world, I was made the unwilling Abbess of the 
 Sacre Cceur at Genoa ; and that I might sometimes see 
 you without suspicion, and that you might be carefully 
 educated, safe from all inquiries, you became the little 
 Neophyte of Jaudan, the General of the Company of 
 Jesus. 
 
 " Oh, my child ! I bend before you ! I clasp your 
 knees, and implore you to forgive the mother who has 
 wronged you, but who has so deeply suffered. Ponder well 
 upon my little history, and avoid the snares into which 
 I fell, for shame and bitter agony have been the only 
 recompense of my devoted love. Forgotten, abandoned, 
 torn from my child, my last whisper will fall upon the 
 ears, and my eyelids be closed by the unfeeling hands of 
 strangers. But the last sigh of my soul shall be wafted 
 in a fervent prayer for the happiness of my daughter, 
 and that her father may be forgiven by Heaven."
 
 234 THE CHANGE IN IXEZ. 
 
 An hour after, Inez rose from her knees, no longer the 
 hopeful, joyous girl, but the resolved and desperate 
 woman. 
 
 "Thank God !" she cried, "this new sacrifice is not 
 yet accomplished. I will save Genevra, or die in the 
 attempt. My poor, poor mother ! how bitter has been 
 thy cup of life, and shall Genevra drink it too ? Torn 
 from the arms of her lover immured in the dreary walls 
 of a Convent, there to drag out a wretched, regretful ex 
 istence; and in the presence of those whose faith she 
 scorns ! Base, false Jesuit ! you shall not blight every 
 green thing in your path of ambition. Me too, doubtless 
 you are expecting to share the fate of Genevra ! He 
 will no longer have any use for me when this dastard 
 work is accomplished. The instrument will have to be 
 
 concealed, but we shall see. I will betray all to 
 
 Stanhope, and we will proclaim this infamy from the 
 house-tops !" 
 
 She paused a moment 
 
 " No, not now the time has not come. This drivel 
 ling Vincenzi would but approve the plotting, if I were 
 to expose them. No, I will wait till he is gone, and I 
 shall then have some days left to fulfil my purpose. 
 Genevra once free, and the bride of Burleigh she shall 
 be, I owe it to their kindness I will away to Italy, seek 
 out my mother, and together we will devote ourselves to
 
 THE STRUGGLE. 235 
 
 that God, who will forgive the penitent, and punish the 
 doer of evil." 
 
 Such had been her thoughts and resolves, during that 
 solemn hour. Her mother's wrongs her own downward 
 progress in the path of duplicity and falsehood, rose 
 before her, and she felt that conscience and reason called 
 her to fly from her father. She no longer remembered 
 that she had ever loved him. His care and seeming 
 affection had been but fear and selfishness. Had he not 
 tried to pollute her soul with crime ? And would it nol 
 be a crime, were she to assist in crushing the pure and 
 generous heart of G-enevra 1 For who could look on 
 her delicate loveliness, and believe she could survive 
 the wreck of all her hopes 1
 
 236 NO. 39 ASTOK HOUSE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 THE THREE CONSPIRATORS. 
 
 WE must now introduce the reader to our American 
 Jesuits ; for he should not be left with the impression, 
 that so prolific a soil as this, cannot produce the rankest 
 and most dangerous elements, that have ever furnished 
 nutrition or growth to the Company of Jesus. 
 
 In Room No. 39, on the second floor of the Astor 
 House that colossal palace of hospitality, at a still 
 later hour on the same evening of the interview between 
 Hubert and Woolsey, the latter found his two friends 
 waiting for him, as he opened the door. Fouche had 
 long been pacing the room, impatiently awaiting his 
 return, for he knew the errand he had gone on. But 
 Loveblack, who was somewhat dull at this species of in 
 trigue, which, to tell the truth, he loved none too well, 
 had fallen into a doze in the large easy chair, where, in 
 his long-worn white overcoat, he presented a very strik 
 ing, but a somewhat slouchy appearance. He meekly
 
 LOVEBLACK WAKES UP. 237 
 
 lifted his head, as his master entered, and Fouche, touch, 
 ing him on the shoulder, said 
 
 " Loveblack, wake up ! We've news from our Allies !" 
 
 Loveblack slowly raised himself, and stretching out 
 his awkward arms, with a long yawn, prepared to receive 
 the intelligence. 
 
 " Of course you saw him, Woolsey?" inquired Fouche. 
 
 " Yes, gentlemen ; veni, vidi, vici ;" and taking his 
 soat, he lighted one of his favorite cigars, and throwing 
 himself back in his chair, said, 
 
 " Loveblack, my dear fellow, wont you hand me that 
 black bottle ; for if I ever deserved a drink in my life, I 
 deserve it now;" and filling to the brim, he raised his 
 glass, 
 
 " Here's to the Ides of November ; Rome and Geneva 
 have met at last." 
 
 " Is the bargain struck, then ?" inquired Fouche, who 
 neither drank the toast, nor seemed to perceive much 
 merriment in it. 
 
 " You will see," Woolsey replied, as he began ; and for 
 an hour this suMle politician related all that had passed 
 between him and Hubert. Nothing escaped his memory ; 
 he reflected the conversation, the incidents, and the feel 
 ings ot the interview, with microscopic minuteness, and 
 Daguerrean fidelity. Fouche had listened with deep 
 interest, nor had he missed a word much less a point.
 
 238 WOOLREY'S BLACK BOTTLE. 
 
 " There, you have it all," said Woolsey. " Loveblack, 
 wont you just step into my bedroom, and bring one of 
 those black bottles that you will find on the second shelf 
 of the closet ?" 
 
 Loveblack hesitated. He had made so many furious 
 onsets against the Empire of Bacchus, that it seemed to 
 him almost sacrilegious to put the bottle to his neigh 
 bor's lips. But he was not in the habit of receiving any 
 suggestion whatever from Woolsey, except with respect, 
 and unqualified obedience. He modestly suggested, 
 however, 
 
 " Your plot would go on just as well if you drank less 
 liquor and more cold water." But he dragged his 
 shackely form along to the closet, where, after fumbling 
 about for some time, to the detriment of what few chattels 
 it contained, he found the object of his search. 
 
 He set the bottle down on the table, and lifting the mas 
 sive silver pitcher to his mouth (the table was covered with 
 goblets), he drank with an eagerness and a relish, which 
 showed that whatever else might be said against him, he 
 was a doctor who could take his own pills. Woolsey took 
 from his pocket a polished steel corkscrew, which had been 
 his vade mecum through many campaigns, and drawing 
 the cork, charged his glass once more, to the unutterable 
 horror of Loveblack, who again threw himself down into 
 his chair, with an expression of hopeless philanthropy.
 
 LOVEBLACK AND HIS LIQUOR LAW. 239 
 
 " Loveblack," said Woolsey, who replied rather to his 
 appearance, than to the reproof administered when he 
 started for the brandy, " Loveblack, my boy, you may 
 write and print as much of that stuff as you please ; 
 but don't bother your friends with it and least of all, 
 over this vintage. Why, that brandy was made before 
 
 you were born." 
 
 
 
 Loveblack did not reply; but his mind instinctively 
 flew to one of his beloved hobbies, and he began men 
 tally to construct a ferocious article for his paper on the 
 necessity of a Prohibitory Liquor Law. 
 
 Fouche was constructing something else; he was 
 thinking of no old vintages of France, nor of any law 
 to prohibit their use. He was anxiously calculating 
 the consequences of this new alliance, which entailed 
 upon him the endorsement of a policy, that his sagacious 
 judgment told him was by no means easily to be en 
 forced upon an intelligent community. Shaking his head 
 slowly but significantly, closing his eyes, and shutting 
 his teeth hard together, he rose, and looking intently 
 upon Woolsey, he inquired, 
 
 " Are you quite sure this will do ?" 
 
 " Why not T 
 
 " Woolsey, I did not call your judgment in question ; 
 nor have I any doubt that you will, by these means, 
 secure the Election this fall. But can we not accomplish
 
 240 FOUCHE CANVASSES THE BARGAIN. 
 
 our object without running sucli a hazard ] How long 
 can this game be played with success ? We must show 
 our hands we must introduce this School-Bill into the 
 Legislature AVO must stand by it in our Journals we 
 must work for it in the lobby. This is the support our 
 new Allies call for they bargain for this or nothing. If 
 we have accomplished anything thus far, in political life, 
 it has been by keeping our machinery out of sight this 
 new mode has not been our style of warfare hitherto." 
 And Fouche looked all he said 
 
 Woolsey appeared calm; but he was disturbed. It 
 occurred to him, for the first time, that Fouche might 
 have managed that card better. But old campaigners are 
 always more sensitive on questions of rank and superior 
 ity, than gentlemen or diplomatists. Woolsey was the 
 Catiline of this conspiracy, and he had to maintain his 
 ground. 
 
 " What else would you have done ?" he asked. 
 
 " I am in some doubt whether I would have done any 
 thing at all. I am not quite clear whether this was a 
 thing that could be done well." 
 
 " I do not see the matter precisely as you do please 
 to explain, Fouche ; you seem slightly disturbed." 
 
 " To begin then, circumstances of a peculiar nature, 
 brought me into intimate contact with several members 
 of the Company of Jesus, soon after our suspended inter-
 
 JESUIT ACQUAINTANCE. 241 
 
 course with the British Provinces was resumed. On the 
 opening of the war of 1812, several old French offi 
 cers came to settle within our borders, the policy of 
 Napoleon having driven them from their country. 
 Among their companions for I was often with them I 
 made the acquaintance of several very accomplished 
 men ; from whose conversation, from time to tune, I de 
 duced conclusions that have been confirmed by my expe 
 rience and observation, every year of my life since 
 Among those officers and priests, there were Jesuits 
 members of the Society elegant, refined, courtly men. 
 They were familiar with diplomacy, with war, with 
 society, and the intrigues of the Courts of Europe. It 
 used to amuse me sometimes it terrified me to hear 
 them, as they skipped from language to language but 
 generally talking good English, if one or more Americans 
 were in the party, to watch them as they unrolled the 
 broken map of Europe. At that time, the Jesuits had 
 hardly attempted to establish their dominion in this Re 
 public. At all events, they had made but very little 
 progress. They found all their enginery called into 
 requisition, in reestablishing the Bourbons upon their 
 vacated thrones, and reconstructing the shattered edifice 
 of the Company of Jesus, which had been broken by the 
 man then living at St. Helena. I have said enough to 
 show you why I distrust these people ; and why I appre- 
 
 11
 
 242 FOUCHE'S WARNING. 
 
 hend some evil from our association with them ; for you 
 must know, that the miscarriage of this last general Revo 
 lution in Europe, has ended in the exile of the Jesuits 
 from almost every country on the Continent and I tell 
 you, "Woolsey, before you are twelve months older, you 
 will find, that the Company of Jesus will have planted 
 jtself, like a retreating division, upon the soil of this Re 
 public, with new means and appliances for progress and 
 power, that will be adapted to our system of government, 
 as admirably as they were ever adjusted to the workings 
 of empires, kingdoms, and despotisms." 
 
 " You are becoming philosophical, Fouche" said 
 Woolsey. " If the Jesuits are all you make them out 
 to be, they are the very men for us." 
 
 "Yes," he answered, "they are for one campaign; 
 but, my friend [they were slowly walking the room 
 together, stopping occasionally to look each other in the 
 face, paying no regard whatever to Loveblack, who, to 
 all appearance, was sound asleep ; but who never lost a 
 word, having been so occupied all the way through life, 
 that the little education he had gained had come through 
 his ears,] but, my friend, we shall be just tfieir'mcn for 
 ever after. The man who expects to use a Jesuit to 
 advantage, will generally reckon without his host." 
 
 "How are we to be caught hurt perilled?" 
 
 " I will tell you," continued Fouche. " The Jesuits
 
 NAPOLEON AND HIS MARSHALS. 243 
 
 in this country, as in all other countries, are to the Ro 
 man Church, what Napoleon and his Marshals were to the 
 Grand Armee. When you talk about Jesuits, you are 
 talking to me about these Marshals when you talk about 
 Hubert, you are speaking of Napoleon. What now does 
 Hubert ask of us ? That we shall upset the whole 
 structure of the Common School system of New York - 
 that we shall ask our Legislature to take money out of 
 the School Fund, which the Commonwealth takes out of 
 the pockets of all her people, and give it to the Jesuits, to 
 use in setting up a system of education for their own 
 purposes ; a system which would, if carried out, be 
 utterly subversive, first of the spirit and then of the 
 letter of our Constitution ! Do you suppose, Woolsey, 
 that the people of the Empire State will stand that ? 
 Much less do you think it could be done without their 
 seeing through it ? If it could, I confess I should waive 
 my objections. But this is not all. You pay this' price 
 for the Catholic vote in the State of New York alone, 
 and it appears your bargain embraces all the rest of the 
 Republic ; for if I understand it, we have to go to work and 
 secure the same pledges from our political party in every 
 other State in the Union. Mark you, Woolsey, these are 
 the men who get the quid pro quo in ev<jry bargain. 
 Most men content themselves with asking for it only. 
 This is the difference between Jesuitism and all other
 
 244 THE NATIVE AMERICANS. 
 
 isms," he said, involuntarily pointing his finger towards 
 Loveblack. 
 
 Woolsey had not thought of all this. He had, in fact, 
 pressed his suit with Hubert too earnestly. 
 
 " Besides," continued Fouche, " have you forgotten 
 what happened in this city, only a few years ago, when, 
 upon a mere Presbyterian apprehension of the growing 
 power of Catholicism, a great and formidable party of 
 Native Americans overrode us all, and sent a book-pub 
 lisher into the Mayoralty of this great city, besides 
 securing a representation in the Councils of the Nation 1 
 Have you forgotten that the city of Philadelphia was 
 then represented, and has been ever since, by one of the 
 leaders of this party ? And are you ambitious, just now, 
 of clapping the torch to this mountain of tow to this 
 half-finished house of shavings, that we are going k> move 
 into, in this new Lease of yours ? I tell you, Woolsey, 
 it will burn down over our heads ! At all events, I have 
 made known to you my apprehensions." 
 
 Woolsey gave Fouche a full and candid hearing ; for 
 at this moment it would not have served his purposes to 
 play the rogue. He was candid, because he was de 
 termined not to fail. 
 
 " Fouche," he replied, " what is done is done. The 
 bargain is made, and it shall be carried out. Whatever 
 may be my convictions in regard to the truth of your
 
 FOUCHfi AND WOOLSEY CONTRASTED. 245 
 
 philosophy, which seems so plausible, we have nothing to 
 do now with philosophy or morals ; our only question is, 
 how we shall get our candidates in. You know that 
 unless we resort to these means, we shall lose the Elec 
 tion ; for without the help of the Jesuits, we both agree 
 that we are gone ; you have yourself confessed it over 
 and over again, in this very room. It was for this reason, 
 and with your knowledge and approbation, that I made 
 this arrangement. You even went so far as to tell me 
 that it could not be done, even at this expense ; and yet 
 it is done, and now you are frightened." 
 
 "Ah ! Woolsey," rejoined Fouche, somewhat stung by 
 this last remark, " you are always looking to immediate 
 results. This is the only weak point in your character." 
 
 " Fouche, immediate results are better than none ; and 
 I am yet to find that our policy is not better than our 
 neighbors'. Gain to-day, and sleep on it. You will have 
 time to think before you go into battle in the morning. 
 Immediate victory, I claim to be the highest policy, as 
 there is ' a higher law than the Constitution.' What care 
 we for the Jesuits 1 Just as much as they care for us. 
 It is tit for tat, and no love lost between us. We have 
 made all we have made, in this same way ; but we have 
 made it by driblets. It is safer, in my judgment, .to com 
 mit one grand villany, so stupendous that it excites the 
 amazement of men, than to be put in the Tombs for
 
 2 46 SECRET OF POLITICAL POWER. 
 
 stealing a two-penny loaf. By thus playing a larger 
 game, for a larger stake, with higher instruments, subtler 
 policy, and holder movements, I apprehend no danger ; 
 and I see every advantage in striking hands at once, and 
 holding the grasp with these men ; for with them we can 
 rule the country. Let your Native Americans talk and 
 rant. That was a dash that blew over, and any other 
 dash of the kind, will pass just as quick. The strength, 
 of every political party in this country, is limited exactly 
 to the extent that they can guide Public Opinion, and 
 confer upon their instruments emoluments, profit, favor,^ 
 and power. Once with the machinery of the Federal 
 Government in our han.ds, instead of that rickety ma 
 chine at Albany, we can manage this country, and make 
 it child's-play to carry on the General Government for 
 our own purposes. Then, as now, the Jesuits will be 
 on our side. They never desert men in power. These 
 rats leave nothing but falling houses, and sinking ships. 
 They cling to men as long as they are successful ; and 
 success, Fouche, is all I am after. Why have we in- 
 
 
 
 dulged our brother Loveblack in all his vagaries ? He 
 never has had an ism that did not give us votes he 
 never will have, till he comes to his last." 
 
 " This all looks very well, Woolsey," said Fouche 
 with a sneer. 
 
 " Yes, it looks well, and what's more, it works well.
 
 POLITICAL THICKS. 247 
 
 Has not our system given us the State ? Did not the 
 man who once controlled the politics of New York, gradu 
 ate hi the highest school this country is acquainted 
 with ? If our system works well here, where seoresy is 
 almost impossible, will it not act well upon the leather- 
 headed Dutchman of Pennsylvania, the warm-hearted 
 planter of the South, and the muck-covered Hoosier of 
 the West 1 If you can pull the wool over the eyes of 
 the New Yorkers, you can walk into the White House 
 without being questioned. How else will you account 
 for the final success of the only man in this State, that 
 has understood politics well enough to get there ? " 
 
 " But, Woolsey, are we not likely to get more help 
 than we want out of these people ? You know that their 
 policy is to ' divide and conquer.' In every country, 
 they have stirred up difficulties ; and from every civil 
 ized land on the earth, without an exception, they have 
 been, sooner or later, ejected. They have rent kingdoms 
 and empires in twain; and you know, that a Republic 
 like ours, which is held together only by ropes of sand, 
 is just the ground for them to work on. Consequently, 
 they are quick to strike hands with us Abolitionists at 
 the North, and quicker still, if possible, to build up new 
 slave States in the South and West. They always go 
 with the party in power ; and I begin, for one, to think 
 that we have driven this nigger business about far
 
 248 "BLARNEY ABOUT THE FEDERAL L'MO.\." 
 
 enough. Loveblack there, lias been going this thing 
 like a Jehu lately, and he must temper his tone a little, 
 or we shall lose much of our vote where they read on 
 both sides, and we may even lose it in the rural districts, 
 where they read but one. I conclude it is not necessary 
 to split the Union just yet, at all events." 
 
 " We had better do this than quit the helm : Where 
 will your ship go to then?" 
 
 " Probably, Woolsey, somebody might take our places 
 and head her out to sea. You seem to be carrying the 
 ship ashore ; and I do not limit my hopes to a wreck" 
 
 " Suppose the ship does go ashore ? Has the North 
 ever made anything out of the Union ? Have we not 
 had to carry the South upon our backs 1 Has she not 
 absorbed more than her share of offices of emolument, 
 trust, and power 1 Has she not, for the most part, led 
 our armies and controlled our navies ? Has she not 
 given us every President we ever had except three ? 
 Does she not lord it over us in every place, at every 
 time, and under all circumstances ? Fouche, this idea of 
 the Union the eternal union of these States I have 
 ceased to believe in. Our only friends and allies are the 
 Secessionists at the South, and the Jesuits everywhere. 
 Men are governed more by terror than by persuasion." 
 
 " I agree with you in great part in what you have 
 said. There is a vast deal of blarney about this Union.
 
 FOUCHE RELUCTANTLY RATIFIES THE BARGAIN. 249 
 
 We have beard of it from Clay and Webster, and that 
 whole class of bungling politicians that have wrecked 
 our fortunes at almost every trial, and I am as sick of it 
 as you are." 
 
 " Fouche, I have made this bargain ; and when I give 
 my word to a Jesuit, I always make it a rule to keep it. 
 It must, therefore, be distinctly understood that this 
 policy is agreed upon. Are you prepared to stand by 
 me ? for it will be necessary that you should see Hubert, 
 and be thrown into direct relations with his friends, 
 wherever you go, through this campaign." 
 
 " Of course, Woolsey, I go with you. My object was 
 not to back out of the bargain ; for, on the whole, it is a 
 good one at all events, we can make it such. I only 
 wanted to let you understand that I am aware of their 
 system of operations ; and I wished to draw from you 
 the reasons that had governed you in adopting this policy. 
 Subtle as is the system of Jesuitism, dark and myste 
 rious as are all its workings, we can outwit the scoundrels 
 after all. We are on our native heath, and if they know 
 where their interest lies, they will stand by us to the 
 last. If they do not happen to know it, we'll teach it to 
 them." 
 
 Fouche was seldom surprised. He had watched the 
 drift of events; and, perhaps, it would be only fair to 
 give him the credit of starting an idea, which was now 
 
 11*
 
 250 LOVEBLACK IN HIS WHITE COAT. 
 
 likely to produce results. More than thirty years before, 
 amidst the rubbish of a room in a boardiug-house, where 
 one of those Jesuit priests he had spoken of to Woolsey 
 had lodged, Fouche, the new tenant, found in a drawer, 
 an old parchment, containing the Secret Rules and In 
 structions of the Company of Jesus. He drew it from the 
 pocket of his frock-coat, and threw his head in a signifi 
 cant gesture over his left shoulder towards the spot 
 where Loveblack was sitting. Woolsey rose, and roused 
 the latter from a species of stupor he seemed to have 
 fallen into at that late hour. He turned in his chair. 
 He had not been asleep a minute. 
 
 " Have you settled the business ?" he demanded. 
 
 " Yes, Loveblack," answered Woolsey, " it is all ar 
 ranged." 
 
 " What am I to do 1" 
 
 " We have secured the Catholic vote of the State of 
 New York." 
 
 " Must we go the separate School Fund, Woolsey ?" 
 was the question of the amiable Loveblack. 
 
 " Yes," answered Woolsey "go it blind." 
 
 "What will the people say?" inquired Loveblack, 
 rolling up his eyes. 
 
 " Say" continued Woolsey " tell them what to say 
 yourself. Is not this a land of freedom and equal rights ? 
 Shall we ostracize men, because they worship God ac-
 
 LOVEBLACK RETIRES. 251 
 
 cording to the dictates of their own conscience? Are 
 not the Catholics as sincere as we ? And if they con 
 tribute their share to the Revenues of the State, have 
 they not a right to be represented ? And can they not 
 justly claim that their pro rata of the School Fund shall 
 be set apart to be used by them in their own way ?" 
 
 " Yes, we can say all that. Do you think we shall 
 get the Election ?" 
 
 " Get it ?" said Fouche, " Beyond a doubt." 
 
 " Well then," continued Loveblack, " I think I will go 
 over to the office, and make a beginning." 
 
 This philanthropic man this reformer this unflinch 
 ing advocate of the people this apostle of light, truth, 
 and human freedom this instrument of the two arch- 
 demagogues, who were themselves the tools of the 
 Jesuits, put on his white hat, and shuffled out of the 
 room. 
 
 " He is a useful man, Fouche." 
 
 " Yes, but it was quite as well to get him out of the 
 way before we came to the Secret Rules and Instructions 
 of the Company of Jesus. There may be other copies of 
 this document in this country," continued Fouchfi, " but 
 this is the only one I have ever seen, and from it I have 
 learned more politics, than I have from all other 
 sources." 
 
 " Read," replied Woolsey, reaching over the table for
 
 2,52 THE SECRET RULES OF THE JESUITS. 
 
 the brandy bottle, and lighting another cigar. Fouche 
 began to read THE SECRET INSTRUCTIONS OF THE 
 JESUITS. 
 
 ".We will glance first at the PREFACE," said Fouche. 
 
 " These SECRET INSTRUCTIONS must be kept with the most 
 vigilant care, in the hands of Superiors, and committed to a few 
 only, of the professed : while they may be divulged to certain of 
 the non-professed in emergencies ; but it must be under the strict 
 est ties of secresy ; not as Rules reduced -to writing by others, 
 but as advice from the person who divulges them. And since 
 many of the professed will thus become acquainted with these 
 INSTRUCTIONS, the COMPANY has, from its first establishment, 
 taken care, that no one in the secret, should be allowed to join 
 any Order, except the Carthusians, who live in strict retirement, 
 and are compelled by the Holy See, to observe inviolable silence. 
 The supremest care must be taken, to keep these INSTRUCTIONS 
 from falling into the hands of strangers, lest through fear or envy 
 of our COMPANY, they should give them a sinister interpretation. 
 But if this should happen [which God forbid], let it be positively 
 denied that they are the INSTRUCTIONS, or that they contain the princi 
 ples of the COMPANY ; and let such denial be confirmed by those 
 of our Members, who we are sure know nothing of them. By 
 these means, and by confronting these RULES with our PUBLIC 
 INSTRUCTIONS, printed or written, our credibility will be established 
 beyond opposition. 
 
 " Let Superiors, also, carefully and warily inquire, whether any 
 of our Members have divulged these INSTRUCTIONS to strangers ;
 
 HOW JESUITS BEGIN. 253 
 
 and never allow them, or any part of them, to be copied for any 
 purpose, without the consent of the Provincial, or the GENERAL 
 himself. And if any one is suspected of incapacity to keep such 
 vital secrets, acquaint him not of your suspicion, but dismiss him 
 at once." 
 
 " That is a fair start, Woolsey. We shall now see 
 THE INSTRUCTIONS themselves." Fouche continued 
 
 " The first chapter treats of ' How the COMPANY must 
 proceed when any neio Establishment of the Order is to be 
 founded' ' 
 
 "1. It will be of great importance for our Members to be well 
 received by the inhabitants of the place, or district, where they 
 are to settle. They must set forth the object of the COMPANY, as 
 laid down by our STATUTES, which declare that we ought as dili 
 gently to seek occasions of doing good to our neighbors, as to 
 ourselves. Therefore, let our brethren, with humility, discharge 
 the meanest offices in the hospitals ; frequently visit the sick, the 
 poor, and prisoners ; and readily, and without distinction, receive 
 the confessions of all ; that the novelty of such uncommon and 
 diffusive charity may excite in the minds of the principal persons 
 of the neighborhood, an admiration for our conduct, and forcibly 
 draw their affections towards us. 
 
 "II. The privilege to exercise the Ministry of this COMPANY 
 must be requested in a modest and religious manner ; and when 
 admitted, they must do their best to gain favor, chiefly among 
 such ecclesiastics and secular persons as can help us in time of 
 need.
 
 254 HOW JESUITS GET WEALTH. 
 
 " III. Distant places must be visited and explored, where the 
 necessity for our presence must be demonstrated ; but explorers 
 must receive the most inconsiderable alms, which must afterwards 
 be given away to deserving objects. This will edify those who 
 are not yet acquainted with THE COMPANY, and stir them up to 
 greater liberality towards us. 
 
 " IV. All our members must seem to breathe the same spirit, 
 and learn the same exterior behavior ; for by such uniformity in so 
 vast a diversity of men, all will be edified and won. Whoever 
 obstinately persists in a contrary deportment, must be at once 
 dismissed, as dangerous and hurtful to THE COMPANY. 
 
 " V. Wherever we settle, let our Members be cautious at first 
 in purchasing lands ; and when they find good and profitable sites 
 for our purposes, let them be bought but always in the name of 
 some true and trusty friend. And to give to our position a plausible 
 gloss of real poverty, let the purchases adjacent to the places 
 where our colleges stand, be assigned, by the Provincial, to col 
 leges at a distance. Thus > Potentates and Magistrates can never 
 learn with certainty the amount of our revenues. 
 
 " VI. Let no places be selected by our Members for founding 
 Colleges, except in the neighborhood of opulent cities the end 
 of THE COMPANY being an imitation of Christ, our Saviour, who 
 made his principal residence the Metropolis of Judea, and who 
 only transiently visited less remarkable places. 
 
 " VII. Let the greatest sums be always extorted from widows 
 who are susceptible ; and this can effectually be done by frequent 
 remonstrances of our extreme necessities. . 
 
 " VIII. In no province must any one, except the Provincial, be-
 
 ELEMENTS OF SUCCESS. -255 
 
 fully apprised of the real value of our property, or revenues; and 
 what is contained in the Treasury at Rome, must far ever be kept 
 as an inviolable secret. 
 
 " IX. Let h publicly appear, and be everywhere declared by 
 our Members, in all their intercourse with society, private or 
 public, that their only object in founding any College or Esta 
 blishment, is limited to the superior instruction of youth, and the 
 spiritual and temporal welfare of the inhabitants ; and that all this 
 is done without the least idea of reward on earth, or respect of 
 persons ; and that we are never an incumbrance upon the people 
 where we live, as all other Religious Societies are. We give 
 it is our glory to do it for more blessed is he that giveth than he 
 that receiveth." 
 
 " This," remarked Poncho, ." is a particularly brilliant 
 chapter. It embraces, in my judgment, some of the 
 most important elements of success in any institution, 
 whose object is to control the minds of men." 
 
 " You are right, Fouche ; go on. This interests me 
 prodigiously." 
 
 " Well, then, we come to Chapter Second, which 
 teaches 
 
 " How the Company may ftork itself into the confidence, and 
 preserve a familiarity, vnth princes, noblemen, and persons of the 
 greatest distinction. . 
 
 "I. Everywhere, princes and illustrious personages must, by 
 some means or other, be so managed, that we can have their ear,
 
 256 HOW TO INFLUENCE MEN I\ POWER. 
 
 which will easily secure their hearts. This policy, well carried 
 out, will make all men our creatures, and no one will dare to 
 disturb or oppose THE COMPANY OF JESUS. 
 
 " II. Forget not that ecclesiastics gain great favor from great 
 men by winking charitably at their vices, by putting a favorable 
 construction upon whatever they do that is wrong ; as, for ex 
 ample, marrying with their near relations, or anything else. We 
 must make it our business to encourage men who have power, in 
 the gratification of everything which they are inclined to ; for we 
 can easily convince them that through our aid, they can be forgiven 
 for it at Rome: and that dispensations w r ill always be. gran ted, if 
 proper reasons are urged, parallel cases adduced, and opinions 
 quoted, which countenance actions which are believed to be con 
 ducive to the good of mankind, and the greater glory of God, 
 these being the only objects of THE COMPANY, must always be 
 set forward as the only motives which influence us to go to Rome 
 for pardon for what is wrong. 
 
 " III. The same must be done when Princes, and men in power, 
 undertake enterprises which are unpopular with their people. 
 They must be urged on, and excited ; while their opponents must 
 be dissuaded from opposition ; but this must be done only in a 
 general way, always avoiding particulars, lest a miscarriage of an 
 enterprise we may have favored, should bring odium upon us. 
 We must always be ready to meet a crisis like this, and whenever 
 any cause we have promoted becomes unpopular, our brethren 
 must always have by them INSTRUCTIONS plainly forbidding it, 
 and these INSTRUCTIONS must be backed by the authority of our 
 senior Members, who, being entirely ignorant of these INSTRUC-
 
 THE SPIES OF THE JESUITS. 257 
 
 TICKS, and of the thing in question, must give their oath that all 
 such insinuations are malicious, and base imputations on THE 
 COMPANY OF JESUS. 
 
 " IV. It will materially aid us in gaining the favor of Potentates 
 and Ministers, if we artfully worm ourselves by using other 
 people, and under the' pretence of promoting their interests into 
 honorable Embassies to foreign courts, in their behalf; but espe 
 cially to the Court of the Holy Father and great monarchs ; for 
 thus we can promote our final views and throw splendor over our 
 social position. But let none but thorough "zealots and persons 
 well versed in the schemes and institutions of the COMPANY, be 
 ever pitched upon for such work as this. 
 
 " V. Above all, due care must be taken to curry favor with the 
 servants, agents, minions, and domestics of princes and nobles, 
 whom, by little presents, and many offices of piety and love, we 
 may so far bias and gain over, that through them we can get 
 accurate intelligence of the bent and drift of their masters' humors 
 and inclinations ; and thus THE COMPANY will be better qualified 
 to chime in with their tempers. How much we have gained in 
 this manner by promoting marriage alliances, the House of 
 Austria, the Bourbons, Poland, Spain, and other .kingdoms and 
 states, afford experimental evidence. Therefore, let such marriage 
 alliances be prudently selected between those whose parents are 
 our friends firmly attached to our cause. 
 
 "VI. Princesses and ladies of quality can easily be gained 
 through the agency of the women of their bedchambers. We 
 must pay particular address to them, since they will communicate 
 to us with freedom all the secrets which we desire to know, and 
 through which we can control all parties.
 
 258 HOW TO GUIDE GREAT MEN'S CONSCIENCES. 
 
 "VII. In directing the consciences of great men, our Confessors 
 must imitate those who allow the greatest latitude, in opposition 
 to other Religious Orders ; for their penitents being thus allured 
 hy the prospect of greater freedom in religious life, will come at 
 last to depend wholly upon us for direction and counsel. 
 
 " VIII. Princes, prelates, and all men in power, who are capable 
 of rendering great services to THE COMPANY, must be favored by 
 beintf made partakers of all its merits, indulgences, and favors, 
 after they fully understand the high importance of such great pri 
 vileges. 
 
 "IX. Let it be cautiously, but ingeniously, instilled into the 
 people, that THE COMPANY is intrusted with far greater power of 
 absolving, even in the nicest eases ; thus they will have recourse 
 to us, and as often as we absolve them from crimes, misdemeanors, 
 peccadilloes, and sins, we shall place them under fresh obliga 
 tions. 
 
 " X. It will be proper to invite such to attend our sermons and 
 fellowships to hear our orations, and assist in all those semi-reli 
 gious but tasteful re-unions, and to compliment them with verses 
 and addresses always to accost them in a pleasant and polished 
 manner, and on proper occasions give them elegant entertain 
 ments. 
 
 " XL Let no means be neglected of getting a knowledge of the 
 animosities that arise among great men ; that we may have a finger 
 in reconciling their difficulties ; for by such means we shall learn 
 all about their secret affairs who are their friends and in the 
 end we can be sure to enlist one of the parties on our side. 
 
 " XII. When the discovery is made that any person who serves a 
 king or prince is not well affected towards us, no stone must ba
 
 WOOLSEY'S SYSTEM AND IAUDAN'S ALIKE. 259 
 
 left unturned to win him over to friendship and familiarity wiih 
 us ; if he cannot be won, he must be ruined. 
 
 " XIII. None who have been once dismissed from THE COM 
 PANY, whether they left it with their own accord or not, should 
 ever be recommended for any purpose; for disguise it as cun 
 ningly as they may, those wbo have left us, always retain an 
 implacable hatred against THE COMPANY. 
 
 " XIV. Finally, Let all our members, with such adroitness, 
 gain the ascendant over men in power everywhere, that they may 
 be ready at our beck to sacrifice for cur advantage their nearest 
 relations and most intimate friends." 
 
 "I do not perceive, my dear Fouche, any moral 
 difference between their mode of proceeding and ours," 
 said TVoolsey. 
 
 " Only this they carry their system out; we do it 
 only by halves. But to go on. 
 
 " Chapter TJiird tells 
 
 " How the Company must conduct towards those who are at the 
 helm of affairs, and towards others who, although they may not be 
 rich, are in some capacity of being otherwise serviceable. 
 
 " I. Most of what has been said is applicable here. We must 
 be industrious to procure the favor of men in station, against all 
 who oppose us. Their influence and counsels must be courted, for 
 obtaining influence and station for ourselves ; but we must make 
 it appear to others, that we set little by their worldly advice, since 
 we have a contempt for wealth ; but at the same time, if their
 
 260 HOW CATHOLICS ARE WON BY JESUITS. 
 
 secresy and faith may be depended on, we may privately use their 
 names to aid us in amassing temporal goods, for the benefit 
 of THE COMPANY. 
 
 " II. They must also be employed in winning popularity for us 
 among the meaner classes, and in changing the aversion of the 
 populace into an aifection for OUR COMPANY. 
 
 "III. Bishops and Superior Ecclesiastics must not be impor 
 tuned by our members, except for those things which appear ne 
 cessary ; and even for these with a proper regard to our extremi 
 ties, and their several inclinations to serve us. They must not be 
 offended. Sometimes it will be asking quite enough, if we prevail 
 on Prelates and Curates, to cause their subordinates to show 
 reverence to OUR COMPANY; and if no more, to secure them at 
 least from interposing any obstacles to the discharge of our 
 ministry. In Germany, and other countries where the Priesthood 
 is not powerful enough to lord it over the people, the Prelates 
 luust be treated with the profoundest respect; for thus their 
 Monasteries, Parishes, Priories, Patronages, Foundations for 
 Masses, and Religious Places, with those of their Princes, may 
 ultimately be got into our hands. This is by no means difficult 
 where Catholics are intermixed with Heretics and Schismatics. 
 This is a field particularly favorable to us. The better to gain 
 our point, we must show to these Prelates, the prodigious ad 
 vantages we can bring to them through our influence, while we 
 could hardly expect to make any impression in this way upon dull 
 Priests and Monks. Whenever they favor us under these pre 
 texts, their zeal must be rewarded by public commendations; and 
 they must be led to suppose that their memories will be trans 
 mitted by THE COMPANY OF JESUS to the latest posterity.
 
 JESUITS GRASP FOR ALL POWER. 261 
 
 " IV. In carrying out this plan, we must induce such Prelates 
 to malce use of us, both as Confessors and Counsellors; and 
 whenever their ambition aims at higher preferments from the See 
 of Rome, their pretensions must be backed by such strong influ 
 ence on the part of our friends everywhere, that we shall be sure 
 not to fail. 
 
 "V. Our Members who have intercourse with Prelates and 
 Princes, must see that wherever Colleges or Parochial Churches 
 are founded, THE COMPANY can always nominate Vicars for the 
 cure of souls ; and that our Members are made Superintendents ; 
 for in this way only can wo grasp the whole government of the 
 Church ; and thus, in every place, men will be made such 
 vassals to us, that nothing we ask for will they dare to 
 deny. 
 
 " VI. Wherever the Governors of Colleges hamper us in our 
 designs, or Catholics or Heretics obstruct our way, we must, 
 through the Prelates, secure the principal pulpits ; for in this way, 
 sooner or later, we can impress upon the people our wants, and , 
 in an affecting manner, lay open our necessities. 
 
 " VII. Prelates must be specially caressed, when any of our 
 Members are to be canonized ; and at such times, whatever it 
 may cost, letters must be got from Princes and Nobles, which 
 will fortify us at the Court of Rome. 
 
 " VIII. Whenever Prelates or Nobles are employed in Foreign 
 Embassies, they must, at all hazards, be kept from using any 
 Religious Order except our own, otherwise great harm would 
 come to us in the Governments they represent, and at the Courts 
 to which they are sent. Whenever Ambassadors of this kind 
 pass through places where we have Colleges, let them be received
 
 262 RULES FOR JESUIT CONFESSORS. 
 
 with all honor and esteem, and entertained with as much splendor 
 as religious decorum can possibly admit. 
 
 " Chapter Fourth treats on the chief things to be recommended to 
 Preachers, and Confessors of men in power. 
 
 " I. Our Members must so converse with Princes and Nobles, 
 that they may seem to have nothing else in view but the glory 
 of God. But we must not recommend to them any austerity, 
 penance, or duty, which they are not willing to comply with. 
 We must make their load easy ; and we shall thus insensibly 
 obtain religious and secular dominion. We must preach justice to 
 those that rule, and that God is offended with Princes when they 
 are hurried away into wrong, by the impulses of their passions ; 
 but we must defend every Prince who stands by us, even when 
 he is wrong, so far as we can conveniently. Our members must 
 always gravely protest, and solemnly affirm, that they enter into 
 secular and political affairs with the extremest reluctance ; but in 
 speaking of public affairs, it must be made to appear that it is the 
 duty of our office often to speak such truths to the great and the 
 lowly, and to do many things which, in a wicked world, we should 
 gladly avoid. Wo must bring to the attention of Princes such 
 men as will be serviceable to us, when anybody is to be admitted 
 into the service of the State ; but the recommendation of our 
 friends, in such cases, must not seem to come from us, since 
 it will come with a far better grace from favorites and familiars of 
 Princes, if they be creatures of ours. 
 
 " II. Therefore, let our Confessors and Preachers always be 
 informed by our friends, of persons who are proper for every 
 office above all, the names of those who are our benefactors 
 and let these names be carefully kept ; for the time will come,
 
 JESUITISM THE ONLY UNIVERSAL INSTITUTION. 263 
 
 when they can, with proper dexterity, be proposed with suc 
 cess. 
 
 "III. Confessors aud Preachers must always remember to 
 soothe Princes by winning address ; never to give them the least 
 offence in their sermons or private conversations; to dispossess 
 their minds of all imaginary doubts and fears ; and in public, to 
 exhort them only to faith, hope, and political justice. 
 
 " IV. Our members must seldom, or never, accept of small 
 presents for their private use ; but look only after the common in 
 terests of the Company. At home, plainly furnished chambers or 
 cells must content them. They must not appear in showy cos 
 tume; but at every turn, be ready to administer their advice to 
 the meanest persons, for the world must never say that we court 
 the great. 
 
 " V. The moment any person in authority dies, let one of our 
 friends be put in his place : but this must be cloaked with such 
 management as to avoid giving the least suspicion ; hence we 
 must not be seen in it, but resort to the artifices of a faithful 
 friend, whoso power may, in any event, screen us from the envy 
 or hatred, which might otherwise fall heavily upon the Society." 
 
 " They are good managers, Fouche. I doubt if 
 Machiavelli himself could have done this work much 
 better ; it smacks of his subtle spirit of ingenuity." 
 
 " Yes, Woolsey, but as we go on, you will find that 
 their system comprehends the entire social life of the 
 world ; for the only universal Institution that has yet 
 put forth its power upon all races and nations, is THB
 
 264 HOW JESUITS TREAT THEIR RIVALS. 
 
 COMPANY OF JESUS. Christianity itself, as an institu 
 tion, has not yet done it to the same extent." 
 
 " Go on, Fouchc," rejoined Woolsey, lighting another 
 fragrant Havana. 
 
 " Chapter Five, then," continued Fouche, 
 
 " Instructs us what conduct is to be observed towards our rivals, or 
 such ecclesiastics as we may come in collision with. 
 
 " I. We must not be discouraged, or diverted, from our objects 
 by such people. We must convince Princes, and others in author 
 ity, that THE COMPANY contains the perfection of all other So 
 cieties, leaving out their cant, and outward austerity of life and 
 dress. But if any other Order eclipses us in any of these particu 
 lars, we must show that ours shines with pre-eminent splendor in 
 the Church of God. Let the defects of other Religious Orders be 
 diligently canvassed, and gradually published to our friends ; but 
 always with seeming sorrow, and a spirit of charity, since we 
 know that they cannot acquit themselves so happily even in the 
 discharge of those functions which are common to us both. 
 
 " II. But far greater efforts must be made against those who 
 attempt to set up Schools for the education of Youth, wherever 
 we have our foundations. In every case of this kind, Princes and 
 Magistrates must be told that such Colleges and Establishments 
 will certainly prove nurseries of tumults and sedition ; that chil 
 dren must necessarily imbibe those principles that are taught to 
 them; and lastly, we must persuade them that no Society but ours 
 is qualified to educate the young. To this effect, we must show 
 the high endorsement of Popes ; the recommendations of Cardi-
 
 FOUCHE'S TOLERATION FOR ALL CREEDS. 265 
 
 nals, Princes, and Nobles; with corroborations from Magistrates 
 in many places, of attestations to the exemplary conduct and 
 faithful instruction of those committed to our care. 
 
 " III. Especially let us be mindful to give to the public some 
 signal instances of their virtue and learning, by showing to the 
 gentry, the magistrates, and the populace even, that the pupils of 
 our colleges have conquered scholastic difficulties, and fairly won 
 public applausa" 
 
 " This rule has been effectually carried out by one or 
 more of our Presidents," remarked Woolsey ; " for it 
 seems to have become the fashion for our Presidents to 
 preside over the distribution of prizes at the Jesuits' 
 College near Washington." 
 
 " Yes ; but who can object to having the countenance 
 of the Chief Magistrate of the United States given to 
 institutions of learning ? No matter how much odium 
 the ' Native Americans ' may attempt to bring upon us, 
 who advocate a broader and a more liberal policy. We 
 can always have the better of the argument with the 
 people, when we make a fair plea for toleration for all 
 creeds ; although I confess this thing may be carried too 
 far." 
 
 " I will not interrupt you so often," answered Woolsey, 
 " and I beg you to go on." 
 
 " I will, for the Sixth Chapter is particularly interest 
 ing, since it treats of 
 
 12
 
 266 HOW JESUITS GAIN RICH WIDOWS. 
 
 " Proper methods for inducing rich widows to le liberal to the 
 Company of Jesus. 
 
 " I. In this business none of our members must engage, except 
 those of mature age, personal accomplishments, and agreeable con 
 versation. Let such frequently visit widows, and the moment 
 they begin to show any affection for our Order, let its good works 
 and merits be ingeniously unfolded. If they lend a kind ear to 
 these, and begin to visit our churches, we must be sure to pro 
 vide them Confessors, who will genially admonish them to con 
 stant perseverance in their state of widowhood; and thus, by 
 enumerating and exaggerating the felicities of a single life, they 
 will be induced to pledge themselves to a firm continuance in this 
 pious resolution, which, if maintained, will infallibly secure eternal 
 salvation. 
 
 " II. These Confessors must persuade them to undertake some 
 work of merit, for which they will receive the reward here, and 
 the glory hereafter such as beautifying some chapel, or any other 
 Religious house, as a sacred place for their meditations and devo 
 tions, day by day. By such means they will be more readily dis 
 engaged from the conversation and addresses of importunate 
 suitors. And although they may have chaplains of their own, 
 yet our Confessors must go to celebrate Mass where widows are, 
 to give them proper and sublime exhortations, and to keep their 
 own chaplains under if it can le done. 
 
 " III. The management of widows' houses must be changed 
 insensibly, and with extreme prudence regard being had to per 
 sons, places, affections, prejudices, and sincere devotion. 
 
 * IV. All servants, who do not have a good understanding with
 
 DIVING INTO FAMILY SECRETS. 2G7 
 
 us, must be removed but only little by little and when we have 
 managed to work them out, let such be introduced as already are, 
 or will cheerfully become our creatures. Thus we shall dive into 
 the secrets of, and we will have a finger in, the affairs transacted 
 in the family." 
 
 " Do you suppose that tins system is carried out in 
 the United States, Fouche ?" 
 
 " Of course it is." 
 
 " Then we must look out for our homes." 
 
 " Certainly you must. I have done it a good many 
 years. But to proceed." 
 
 " V. The Confessor must manage to gain the confidence of the 
 widow to such an extent that she will not do the least thing with 
 out his advice, and his advice only ; which he may occasionally 
 insinuate to be the only basis of her spiritual edification. 
 
 " VI. She must be advised to the frequent use of the Sacra 
 ments, but especially that of penance ; for there she will discover 
 her secret thoughts, and most occult temptations. She must feel 
 the necessity of frequently applying to her Confessor for advice, 
 and instructions, to the performance of which she must be invited 
 by promises of prayers, specially adapted to her particular exigen 
 cies ; while she must every day rehearse her Litany, and strictly 
 examine her conscience before God, after which she must commu 
 nicate the result to her Confessor. It will be very well, also, to 
 induce her to repeat a general confession, although she may have 
 formerly made it to another ; for this will give a more perfect 
 knowledge of all her inclinations.
 
 268 HOW COXFESSORS MUST TREAT WIDOWS. 
 
 " VII. Her Confessor must often dwell on the advantages of 
 the state of widowhood, and the inconvenience of wedlock, espe 
 cially when it is repeated; with the dangers to which it may 
 expose her. 
 
 " VIII. It may be well, occasionally, to insinuate to her some 
 match, but be sure to mention one she has an aversion to : while 
 if she has a fondness for any person, let his vices and failings be 
 represented to her in a proper light, that she may abhor the 
 thought of changing her condition for an alliance with any person 
 whatever. 
 
 " IX. When she has firmly determined to continue a widow, 
 then recommend to her a spiritual life but not a recluse one 
 the inconveniences of which must be magnified to her but such 
 a one as Paula's or Eustachia's, etc., and when the Confessor has 
 got so far that he can prevail with her to make a solemn vow of 
 chastity, for two or tbreo years, at least, then let him take due care 
 to oppose all tendencies to a second marriage. He may then 
 forbid her from all conversations with men, and diversions even 
 with her near relatives and kinsmen, under pretence of entering 
 into a stricter union with God. Take care, too, that no ecclesias 
 tic of any Order but our own, visits that widow, or receives visits 
 from her. If this cannot be done, let no one see her in a reli 
 gious capacity, unless he can be trusted. Thus, for a time, our 
 Confessor may subside in the earnestness of his vigilance, if he is 
 sure that his work is being done by some one else. 
 
 " X. When all this is gained, the widow must gradually be ex 
 cited to the performance of good works, especially works of 
 charity, which cost nothing but money and ostentation ; but even 
 thid she must not do on a large scale, without the consent of her
 
 WIDOWS PARTAKE OF ALL THE MERITS. 269 
 
 Confessor, since it is of lasting importance to her soul, tliat her 
 talent be so laid out as to promote her spiritual interests; and 
 she must be reminded that charity, when ill-applied, often proves 
 the cause of sin in others, which effaces the merit and reward that 
 would otherwise attend the giver." 
 
 " It is a pity," remarked "Woolsey, " that our friend 
 Loveblack is gone. This seems to pertain to the 
 Woman's Bights, department." 
 
 " Yes," replied Fouche, with a half-laugh. 
 
 " Chapter Seven explains how such widows are to be secured, and 
 their effects disposed of. 
 
 " I. They must be perpetually urged to perseverance in their 
 devotion and good works, so that no week may pass in which 
 they do not voluntarily set apart from their abundance, something 
 for the honor of Christ, the Sacred Virgin, or other patron Saint ; 
 and let them devote it to the relief of the poor, or the adornment 
 of our churches, until they are entirely stripped of their superflu 
 ous wealth. 
 
 "II. But if aside from these general acts of benevolence, they 
 are inclined to a special liberality to us, and continue in such 
 laudable works, let them be partakers of all the merits of the Com 
 pany, and favored with a special indulgence from the Provincial, 
 or the General himself, if they are worthy of it. 
 
 " III. Let their vow of chastity be renewed twice a year ; and 
 let the day on which it is done, be set apart for innocent recrea 
 tions by the Members of the Company. 
 
 " IV. Let them be frequently visited and entertained, in an
 
 270 HOW TO MANAGE THE CONFESSIONAL. 
 
 agreeable manner, with spiritual Romances ; and let all their par 
 ticular humors and inclinations'be administered to by diverting and 
 enchanting amusements and occupations. 
 
 "V. They must be treated tenderly at the Confessional. No 
 thing morose, ill-tempered, impertinent, or unpleasant, must 
 disturb them there. Great discretion is to be used at the Con 
 fessional in forming a judgment of the natural inconstancy of 
 women. 
 
 " VI. Discreet management must be practised to prevent them 
 from visiting the churches of other orders ; while they must be 
 told that we can grant, with higher grace, larger indulgences than 
 can be done by others. 
 
 " VII. If they are to go into mourning, give them the liberty of 
 the most becoming and graceful dress, let it have an air both of 
 the religious, and the fashionable ; and thus they will think that 
 they are by no means under the control of their Spiritual Guides, 
 in things which seem to appertain specially to their sex. Lastly, 
 if there be no suspicion of their fidelity to us, and above all, if 
 they are liberal to THE COMPANY, allow them, with modera 
 tion, and without offence, whatever pleasures they may have an in 
 clination to. In this way, the woman of the world will be our best 
 coadjutor. 
 
 " VIII. Let young females, who are descended from rich and 
 noble parents, be placed with these widows, that they may gradually 
 become subject to our directions, and accustomed to our regime. 
 Let their governesses be fitly chosen by the family Confessor. 
 Let them submit to all the censures and rigors of the Society ; 
 and if they will not conform themselves to our Rules, let them be 
 dismissed to their parents, or those who put them there ; and be
 
 LIBERTIES TO WIDOWS. 271 
 
 sure before they go, to represent them as intractable, stubborn, 
 and perverse. 
 
 " IX. As much care is to be taken of the health and recreations 
 of these widows, as of their eternal salvation. Hence, if they ever 
 complain of indisposition, at once, all fasting, discipline, and 
 penance, must be forbidden ! They must not be permitted to 
 stir abroad ; even to go to church ; but they must be watched at 
 home with privacy, tenderness, and vigilance. But if they happen, 
 secretly to steal into the garden, or some other private place, 
 thereby wishing to deceive us, you must not seem to know it ; 
 and allow them all that liberty of conversation, and private 
 diversions, and indulgence, with the company of any persons who 
 are known to be acceptable to our Order. 
 
 " X. The great point will be to get the widow's fortune ; con 
 sequently set her a pattern, by describing the state of those holy 
 persons who have renounced the world, and forsaken their parents, 
 with cheerfulness of mind, to devote themselves to the service of 
 God. The better to effect this, let what is contained in the 
 Statutes of THE COMPANY, relating to this kind of renunciation, be 
 explained; and let instances be adduced of widows who, in a 
 short time, became saints, and were canonized, because they 
 achieved brilliantly, what others accomplished only by long and less 
 enthusiastic devotions. Let them know, too, that the COMPANY of 
 JESUS will prevail with the Court of Rome, to accomplish for them 
 either living or dead all they desire on earth or in Heaven. 
 
 " XI. Let it be deeply impressed on their minds, that if they 
 wish to enjoy perfect peace of conscience, they must, in all 
 matters, temporal as well as spiritual, implicitly follow the direc 
 tions of their Confessors, without the least murmuring or inward
 
 272 RESTRICTIONS OX WIDOWS. 
 
 reluctance, since these Confessors are specially allotted to them by 
 the Divine Providence. 
 
 " XII. Let them be instructed, too, that the bestowment of 
 alms on Ecclesiastics however exemplary their life may be, if 
 done without the knowledge and approbation of their Confessors 
 will not be equally meritorious in the sight of God. 
 
 "XIII. They must have no familiarity, under any pretence 
 whatever, with Ecclesiastics of other Orders ; but they must, on 
 all proper occasions, exalt the Company of Jesus, as infinitely 
 superior to all others in the service of God; of greater authority 
 with the Pope, and all Princes ; that it is the most perfect in 
 itself ; that it discards all offensive or unqualified members from 
 its community; and that it is therefore purified from the 
 scum and dregs with which all other Monks and Orders are 
 affected ; persons who, for the most part, are unlearned, stolid, 
 slothful, negligent of their duties, unintellectual, the slaves of their 
 bellies. These Orders and Monks are disgusting they must be 
 made intolerable. 
 
 " XIV. Widows must be persuaded to pay small penances and 
 contributions towards the yearly support of Colleges and Professed 
 Houses ; but especially the Professed House at Rome. Nor let 
 them forget magnificent ornaments of Churches, wax tapers, wine 
 and luxuries, and other things necessary to the celebration of the 
 Mass, or the dispensation of graceful hospitalities ; all of which 
 offerings will, before the Altar, or at the festive board, be used in 
 connexion with their names at the Seat of Power, for their glory 
 hereafter." 
 
 " Woolsey," said Fouche, faeetiously, " the chances are
 
 GIFTS TO THE JESUITS INSURE SALVATION. 273 
 
 that you would have drunk less bad liquor in your time, 
 if you had been the General of the Company of Jesus." 
 AVoolsey blushed a little at this home-thrust, which 
 Fouche, in his good-nature, could not withhold, and the 
 reading went on. 
 
 " XV. If any widow, during her lifetime, makes over her whole 
 estate to the Society, be careful that she does not change her 
 mind ; and when she is seized with illness, let the poverty of our 
 Colleges just erected, be represented to her ; and by graceful and 
 winning manner, and insinuating arguments, let her understand 
 that her large liberality has laid for her the certain foundations of 
 Eternal happiness. 
 
 " XVI. This same course must be taken with Princes, and 
 other munificent benefactors ; for they must be wrought up to 
 the belief, that these are the only acts that will perpetuate their 
 memories in this world, and secure to them unfading glory in the 
 next. But if any ill-disposed person pretends to trump up the 
 example of our Saviour, who had no place where to lay his head, 
 and from this urge, that the Company of Jesus ought to distin 
 guish itself by poverty, we must, in reply to such insinuations, 
 seriously inculcate upon the minds of all, that the Church being 
 entirely changed from what it was in the days of its infancy, can 
 not maintain its ground against mighty enemies, unless it is sup 
 ported by great authority, and all the splendors of Monarchy at 
 Rome ; and it may be added, that this is ' the little stone which the 
 prophet foretold should be hewn out of the rock, and afterwards 
 
 become a great mountain.' 
 
 12*
 
 274 MAKE DAT'GHTERS MISERABLE AT HOME. 
 
 " XVII. But since our expectations must of necessity be limited 
 where widows have children whom they are educating for the 
 world, we must be sure to guard against such inconveniences." 
 
 " Therefore" remarked Fouche " in Chapter Eighth 
 we are told, how widows are to be treated, to be induced to 
 embrace a religious life" 
 
 " I. As they must act with resolution, so must we proceed with 
 gentleness. Let mothers be instructed to use their children 
 harshly even from the cradle by plying them with frequent 
 reproofs, and chastisements. When their daughters are nearly 
 grown up to discretion, let them be sedulously denied the dress and 
 common ornaments of their sex ; offering prayers to God at all 
 times, that he would inspire them with a desire of entering a reli 
 gious Order ; and promising them everything, if they will become 
 nuns. Let all the inconveniences of the marriage state to others, 
 and to themselves in particular, be pressed home upon them ; and 
 from the woful experience of others, lead them to prayer and sin 
 gle life. And lastly, persist in this course, that their daughters 
 maj think of a religious state, being tired of leading such a 
 miserable life with their mothers. In any event, by this course, 
 they will be so miserable at home, that they will marry those we 
 propose to them. 
 
 "II. Let our members converse familiarly with widows' sons; 
 introduce them occasionally into our Colleges ; and let everything 
 be done with the best face, to invite them to enter the Order. 
 Let them walk through the gardens, vineyards, country seats, and 
 villas, owned by us or our friends, where we pass an agreeable
 
 HOW YOUTHS ARE TO BE WON. 275 
 
 life. Let them be informed of our various travels into distant 
 parts of the world ; of our familiarity with Princes, and every 
 thing else that is captivating to the young. Let them see the 
 outward neatness of our refectories and chambers ; the agreeable 
 intercourse we have with each other; the easiness of our rules, 
 which yet have the promise of the glory of God ; and lastly, the 
 preeminence of the Company of Jesus over all others ; not 
 forgetting, in the midst of our discourses on piety, to entertain 
 them with pleasing and diverting stories, conversations, and 
 charming romances. 
 
 " III. Let us occasionally as if by Divine Inspiration suddenly 
 exhort them to religion in general ; and then artfully insinuate the 
 perfection and charms of our Institution ; insisting, both in public 
 exhortations and private discourses, how heinous a crime it is to 
 resist the immediate call of God ; and lastly, lt them be seduced 
 into the performance of spiritual exercises which must -be made 
 delightful to them; and thus determine them in the choice of 
 euch a state of life. 
 
 " IV. Such youths must have tutors provided for them, who are 
 firmly attached to our interests. Let their mothers set forth the 
 difficulties under which their families labor ; and if they cannot be 
 brought of their own accord to desire admission into our Company, 
 let them be sent to distant Colleges, under the guise of foreign 
 travel ; or keep them closer to their studies ; and let the most 
 untiring efforts be made by our Members, to allure them to our 
 cause, and to make all the associations of THE COMPANY enchant 
 ing to their fancies and hearts." 
 
 " By these means," remarked Woolsey, a I have
 
 27G INFLUENCE IN FAMILIES. 
 
 known a vast number of Protestant young men, who 
 have been sent to Jesuit Colleges at Georgetown, 
 Quebec, Montreal, Paris, Rome, and other places ; and, 
 in most instances, I have observed that they return, at 
 last, favorably affected towards the Jesuits." 
 
 " Chapter Nine," continued Fouche, who went on 
 reading with the greater spirit, since he saw that Wool- 
 sey was far from finding it uninteresting or irksome, 
 
 " Prescribes the various modes of increasing the revenues of the 
 Society. 
 
 "I. Confessors must not fail to sift out of their penitents, 
 as complete a knowledge as possible of their families, relations, 
 friends, and effects; their reversions, state, and intentions; that 
 they may be moulded to our purposes. Where there is a disinclina 
 tion to disclose all the secrets desired, it must gravely, and with 
 an apparently honest intention, be prescribed as a soul-saving 
 penance. If it be a female penitent, the Confessor must insist 
 upon frequent confessions, and constant attendance at Church. 
 If a male, he must be induced to frequent the company of our 
 Members ; for just in proportion as our brethren gain familiarity 
 with families, shall we prosper. 
 
 " All means of influence prescribed in the case of widows, 
 must be resorted to with merchants, rich citizens, and married 
 people who are childless. Thus, entire estates will often be 
 gained by adroit management. But these Rules must be rigor 
 ously observed towards rich female devotees. 
 
 " III. A close eye must be kept upon all rich families, and 
 large estates ; and accurate information obtained of taxes, rents,
 
 HOW JESUITS GET PUPILS. 277 
 
 mortgages, and claims upon houses, gardens, farms, vineyards, 
 and other property of nobles, merchants, and citizens ; for by this 
 private knowledge, we can often get valuable property into our 
 hands. Whenever a Confessor has a rich penitent, let him at 
 once inform his Superior, and try all winning artifices to secure 
 him. Our Members, by properly studying a compliance with the 
 humors of their penitents, may work themselves into their good 
 graces ; and wherever they learn that a new field for exertion is 
 opened, let the Superior Clergy at once dispatch discreet and able 
 men, with complete instructions for a plentiful harvest will crown 
 their endeavors. 
 
 " IV. When children are taken into the Society, it must bo 
 distinctly understood what property or contracts are to fall to us. 
 If there is an unwillingness to transfer property at once, let things 
 be so managed that it will, after a limited time, revert to us thus 
 we shall ultimately get it. Where widows and rich married 
 people have daughters, we must see that they are persuaded to 
 undertake a religious life ; and thus, if we get but a small fortune 
 from them in the beginning, we may ultimately get more. If 
 they have sons who would suit our purposes, let them be allured 
 or enticed if it be by the promise of rewards to come among 
 us. But if there be but one son in the family, let nothing be 
 neglected to bring him over set him free from all fear of his 
 parents and let him be convinced that it is a call from above, by 
 showing him how acceptable a sacrifice it would be to God, if he 
 should leave father and mother without their consent. When he 
 is persuaded, let him enter his novitiate in a distant College 
 information thereof having first been communicated to the Gene 
 ral. Where there are sons aiid daughters, let the girls first be
 
 278 HOW JESUITS MAKE MOXEY. 
 
 % 
 got into a Nunnery, and afterwards the sons drawn into the 
 
 Society, when they have got possession of their sisters' effects. 
 
 " V. When Confessors are slack in carrying out these RULES 
 towards widows and married people, let Superiors substitute 
 others in their places, and remove the delinquents to a great 
 distance ; thus to prevent them from keeping up any correspon 
 dence whatever with those families which they would not or 
 could not bend to our purposes. 
 
 " VI. As it is all-important to convince the world of the 
 poverty of the Society, let Superiors borrow money, on bond, 
 of our rich friends, and defer payment when it is due ; and let 
 those who lend the money, especially if they happen to fall 
 dangerously sick, be constantly visited, and by all means wrought 
 upon to deliver up the bond. Thus we shall get their property 
 without being mentioned in their wills, or incurring the hatred of 
 their heirs. 
 
 " VII. It will be well, also, to borrow of some persons money 
 at regular interest, and loan it out to others who are in great- 
 need of assistance, at a higher rate.. In the meantime, our friends 
 from whom we have borrowed, compassionating the necessity of 
 the Society, will forgive us the interest for the time being, and 
 if we give affecting relations of the new Colleges or Churches 
 we are building, they will generally end in giving us the prin 
 cipal, while they are living, or in their Testaments after they are 
 dead. 
 
 " VIII. Our Members may also advantageously traffic under 
 the borrowed names of rich merchants (if they are our friends) ; 
 but never without the prospect of abundant gain. This may be 
 done, 'even to the Indies, which hitherto, by the bountiful favor of
 
 DOCTORS FOR BODIES A\D SOULS. 279 
 
 God, have furnished us, not only with souls, but also plenteous 
 supplies for our coffers. 
 
 "IX. Wherever our members live, they must have a physician 
 who is firmly in our interests. They must recommend him to the 
 sick, above all others. In return, he will extol the Society above 
 all Religious Orders ; and will frequently get us called in to visit 
 sick persons of distinction, especially when they are beyond the 
 hope of recovery, such crises being favorable to our designs. 
 
 " X. Let our Confessors be constant in visiting all the sick who 
 are in danger : and if any Confessor is withdrawn, let another be 
 instantly substituted, in order that the sick person may be kept 
 strong in his good resolutions. At such times, it may be advis 
 able to influence the sick and dying, by apprehensions of Hell-fire, 
 Purgatory, etc. ; to tell them that as fire is quenched by water, so 
 is sin extinguished by charity ; that alms can never be better be 
 stowed than in maintaining those who piously devote themselves 
 exclusively to the salvation of others; that thus the sick and 
 dying will become partakers of our merit, which will be abundant 
 to absolve them from whatever sins they may have committed : 
 thus furnishing them that wedding garment, without which no one 
 can be admitted to the Heavenly Feast. To impress all these, 
 let certain passages be quoted from the Sacred Writ, and Holy 
 Fathers. 
 
 "XI. Lastly, let women who complain of the vices or ill- 
 humor of their husbands, be instructed to set aside sums of 
 money to be offered to God, that He may expiate the crimes of 
 their sinful help-mates." 
 
 " This may account, Fouche, for the fact that a
 
 280 SEDUCTIONS FOR YOUNG MEN. 
 
 Catholic priest is so generally found to be an habitue, in 
 those families where wives and husbands do not get on 
 very well together." 
 
 " I see," replied Fouclie, " that you are beginning to 
 find that our new allies are all that you bargained for. 
 I shall skip Chapter Ten, which speaks of the private 
 rigor practised in the Society ; and Chapter Eleven, which 
 tells the Members of the Company hoic they are invari 
 ably to conduct themselves towards members who have been 
 expelled ; and also Chapter Twelve, which prescribes 
 what persons are to be kept and favored by the Society ; 
 and come to Chapter Thirteen, which states how to pick 
 up young men to be admitted into the Society, and how to 
 retain them" 
 
 " I. It is of infinite consequence to be constantly getting acces 
 sions of young men of genius, accomplished manners, and high 
 birth, into our Society ; and in doing this, the supremest prudence 
 must be used. Something has been said about this already. Fur 
 thermore, let attractive pictures of our colleges be drawn of the 
 superior importance which we attach to elegant manners and 
 exquisite learning, rather than to that hard discipline and mechani 
 cal labor which they will have to submit to in other institutions 
 how vast in extent, and how mighty in influence, is the Com- 
 pany of Jesus how much taste is displayed in ornamenting our 
 grounds, in rearing our edifices ; and, above all, how much personal 
 liberty we allow to all our members who have discretion to use it ;
 
 TREATMENT OF YOUNG MEN WHEN GAINED. 281 
 
 and how easy it is, by choosing this road, for young men of genius 
 to secure the most brilliant fame. 
 
 " II. When young men of this class are gained, let them be 
 treated with the greatest possible degree of respect and favor. 
 They must not be kept in subjection, and chastised, like other 
 scholars that are dependent. Let them indulge in those liberties 
 which are agreeable to their age; and let them understand that 
 their being chosen in preference to any of their fellows, for such 
 special indulgences, is a striking instance of Divine favor. But 
 if they grow restive, lot them be terrified by denunciations of 
 eternal punishment. The more earnestly they desire to finish 
 their novitiate, and enter the Society, the longer must that favor 
 be deferred, provided their resolution holds out. While they are 
 novices, and even while they have taken none but simple vows, 
 they must be cautioned not to breathe to the most intimate friend 
 not even their parents the idea that they have a special call 
 from Heaven, to act an important part : for this would be dele 
 terious. 
 
 " III. As it is most difficult to get the sons of rich and illustri 
 ous men into our Society since they are brought up under the 
 wing of their parents, to be trained up to succeed them in their 
 rank and occupations let our friends, rajther than our Members, 
 persuade them to send their children to distant Provinces or Coun 
 tries, where some of our Order are tutors or professors ; and pri 
 vate information of every such movement must be transmitted, 
 that our Members, by touching the right strings, may gain our 
 point. 
 
 " IV. That parents may more readily either yield to thar sons' 
 desires of joining us, or influence that desire in them, it will
 
 282 EASY TO BE A JESUIT 
 
 be highly expedient to extol the excellence of .our Institutions 
 the sanctity of our brethren the unspotted character they every 
 where maintain and the universal honor and applause they meet 
 with from persons of all qualities and degrees. Repeat a long 
 list of the names of princes, nobles, and illustrious men, who 
 lived in the Company of Jesus, and who being dead, yet live. If 
 youth urge the objection, that many difficulties must stand in the 
 way, let the flexible nature of our Society be explained that it 
 contains nothing difficult to observe, except the keeping of three 
 vows, and, what is very remarkable, not a single rule, whose non- 
 observance would be the commission even of a venial sin." 
 
 " This again accounts for the fact" remarked Woolsey 
 " that so many of the sons of the highest families of 
 all countries, are educated in Jesuit Colleges." 
 
 " Chapter Fourteen" continued Fouche " treats of 
 reserved cases and causes of dismission, from the Society 
 Chapter Fifteen, of tlie conduct proper to observe towards 
 nuns, and female devotees ; both of which we can pass 
 over ; but the Sixteenth Chapter, which speaks of the most 
 successful mode of feigning a contempt for riches, is worth 
 looking at. 
 
 " I. Lest secular persons should represent us as hankering too 
 much after wealth, we should often refuse small and trifling alms 
 that are offered for the performance of pious offices : while from 
 those known to be our friends, we must take whatever they offer, 
 lest we bring upon ourselves the imputation of covetousness, and 
 accepting nothing but presents of value.
 
 JESUITS THE BEST POLITICIANS. 283 
 
 " II. Let burial in our Churches be denied to persons of base 
 character ; although during their lifetime, they may have been ever 
 so much our friends ; lest the world should surmise that wo are 
 after nothing but money. . 
 
 " III. Let widows, and others who have given us almost every 
 thing they had [though they are then on an equal footing with 
 others], be treated with much more rigor, lest people should 
 imagine that our greater indulgence towards them, proceeds from 
 secular motives. We must observe the same rule towards our 
 members, after they have given everything they had away into our 
 hands." 
 
 " That illustrates the gratitude of the Company of 
 Jesus," remarked Woolsey. 
 
 " Yes, but in what respect does this policy differ from 
 . that which the leaders of all political parties practise in 
 this country of buying your enemies, and leaving your 
 friends to take care of themselves, I assure you, Woolsey, 
 the Jesuits are the only models worth the imitation of 
 politicians. But we now come to the last chapter I have 
 in this parchment of the French priest. It is the Seven 
 teenth, and it treats of the methods for advancing the 
 Society." 
 
 " I. Our members must endeavor, in all things, always to act 
 with apparent humanity ; and thus, whatever troubles come upon 
 the world, the Company of Jesus will always maintain its ground, 
 and spread its dominion. 
 
 "II. We must so shine in learning and good example, that
 
 284 JESUITS MAKE TROUBLE. 
 
 other religious persons especially the clergy not of us, may be 
 eclipsed, and common people drawn in, to call upon us for the 
 discharge of every office. 
 
 " III. Kings, and men in power everywhere, must be made to 
 believe that the Catholic faith cannot long prevail, without tlie aid 
 of political power. Thus our members will work themselves into 
 favor with great men, and be invited to participate in their secret 
 councils, since they will expect from us all the influence we can 
 put forth upon the seat of Catholic power at Rome, and upon 
 society around them. Such princes and statesmen must be enter 
 tained by the freshest and strongest confirmations of this great 
 fact that we can procure from all places. Whenever such a con 
 firmation as this reaches the General of the Order, from high 
 quarters, it will be duly transmitted to our brethren throughout 
 the world, that it may be immediately made use of for the edifi 
 cation of all who can help us ; and for the building up of our 
 selves. 
 
 "IV. It will contribute not a -little to our advantage if, with 
 caution and great secresy, we foment and inflame all animosities 
 that arise among princes and great men ; between one section or 
 province and another ; in order that we may weaken the bonds 
 which bind parties to the Government, or leaders to each other. 
 We must fan every flame of civil discord, up to a certain point ; 
 if reconciliation is likely to take place too quick, stave it off. If 
 this cannot be done, we must lose no time in being on the 
 ground, and by becoming mediators, prevent others from doing it. 
 
 " V. The upper and the lower classes must, by all methods, be 
 persuaded into the belief that the Company of Jesus was insti 
 tuted under the particular direction of Divine Providence: and
 
 FINAL SUPREMACY OF SPIRITUAL POWER. 285 
 
 that though the Church may have been seriously depressed, 
 annoyed, harassed, and weakened by the intrigues and attacks of 
 heretics, we may yet again raise it to its primitive lustre. 
 
 " VI. Nor must we lose a chance of impressing upon the 
 minds of those who control the affairs of Governments, and 
 especially the leaders of great political parties, in all countries, 
 that no instance can be found in history, in which any princes, 
 potentates, or statesmen, have been finally left in the lurch, where 
 all the .influence, agencies, and power of THE COMPANY were 
 constantly and sedulously put forth in their behalf; while it can 
 readily be made to appear, that where we have withdrawn our aid, 
 Governments, princes, leaders, and parties, hare gono down 
 often in blood and terror. 
 
 " VII. When the favor of men in power, in Church and State, 
 is once got, we must next aim to draw all cures, canouships, and 
 other revenues, offices, and foundations, into our possession. We 
 must also aspire to abbacies and bishoprics, all of which can be 
 easily seized, if we are active and vigilant such is the supineness 
 and stupidity of most ecclesiastics who are not fortunately par 
 ticipators in the benefits of the Company of Jesus. We should 
 possess all these sources of power and influence over the minds 
 and the souls of men, even to the attainment tf the Apos 
 tolical See itself ; for if the Company of Jesus fulfils its lofty 
 mission, as its immortal Founder seemed, in his inspiration, to 
 foresee, spiritual power is the only power which can ever become 
 universal ; and although we may do it with some effect under the 
 cloak of Roman Catholicism, which we use as an instrument, still 
 that great instrument can only be wielded with complete success 
 by the genius of the Disciples of Ignatius. Therefore, let no
 
 286 . HOW TO CONTROL PRINCES. 
 
 means be untried, cunningly, privately, gradually, but surely to 
 augment the worldly interests of the Company ; and then a Golden 
 Age for us, will go hand in hand with a universal, and lasting 
 repose for the earth, and the divine blessing will, in this way, 
 attend the Catholic Church. 
 
 "But, if our hopes should, in the future, be blasted [and 
 offences must needs come], let it not be because our schemes 
 were not ingeniously arranged to suit all the changing aspects of 
 the Ages as they flow on. Princes over whom we have control 
 must, at every period when our affairs look dark, be pushed on to 
 embroil themselves in vigorous wars with each other, to the end 
 that our Society, as promoters of the universal good of the world, 
 may be solicited to render its assistance as a mediator between 
 contending nations. Thus we can hold the fortune of princes, of 
 nations, and of communities, in our hands ; and keeping them in a 
 state of vibration between tranquillity and commotion at home, and 
 peacse and bloody wars abroad, we shall gain all the preferments 
 that we ask for, as a fair compensation for our signal services. 
 
 " VIII. Thus the Society will continue to prosper, and accomplish 
 all its objects, under whatever skies we spread our banners, or 
 whether our Legions march with the stealthy tread we take in days 
 of peace, or the insidious advances we make in periods of commo 
 tion. With the favor and authority of the great and the power 
 ful of men who sit on thrones, or men who control the sceptres 
 they wield we shall make sure, at all events, that those who do 
 not love us, shall fear us ; and love and terror govern the world. 
 
 " IX. Final ly discouraged by no obstacle, hopelessly repelled 
 by no reverses let every Member of the Immortal Company of 
 Jesus remember some of those sublime maxims of its Founder :
 
 MAXIMS OF LOYOLA. 287 
 
 That he had " a definite end towards which he advanced with 
 steady and unhesitating steps, whilst his companions had no fixed 
 plan ; that he was endowed with an iron will, which neither 
 poverty nor imprisonment, nor the world's contempt, could over 
 come ; that, above all, he had the art to flatter men's passions, 
 and to win their affections by using all his influence to pro 
 mote their interests ; that he thus gained an immense influence 
 over those inexperienced and ingenuous young men on whose 
 generous natures the idea of devoting their lives to the welfare of 
 mankind had already made a deep impression ; that he enjoined 
 upon his followers, if any one should ask them what religion they 
 professed, to answer that they belonged to THE COMPANY OF JESUS, 
 since they were Christ's soldiers ; that Loyola, in the beginning, 
 resolved to proceed in everything with the utmost caution ; that all 
 his disciples took a vow of implicit and unquestionable obedience to 
 their Superior ; that the will of the General, as expressed through 
 Superiors, gives to him absolute power over all the disciples ; that 
 the General, or any one to whom he confides authority, at the 
 Confessional holds the place of Christ our Lord, and that such a 
 one must be regarded as Christ the Almighty God, and so abso 
 lutely is this rule of submissive obedience to be enforced, that the 
 Member of the Company must obey his General, although he may, 
 in his weakness or scruples, suppose that he may be disobeying 
 God ; that the allegiance which the disciple owes to his master, 
 must not be allowed, under any circumstances, to come in conflict 
 with his natural affections or worldly interests ; and hence, that 
 no contradictory doctrines be allowed, either by word of mouth or 
 public sermons, or any written books; and, in a word, that 
 nothing which proceeds from the General of the Company who is
 
 288 NO TOLERATION FOR PROTESTANTS. 
 
 Loyola's successor, shall ever bo received except with supreme vene 
 ration, and unhesitating obedience. Above all, let the following 
 cardinal maxims be observed, upon the perils of ETERNAL 
 DAMN A TION IN HELL : 
 
 " I. The vows and oaths of allegiance to the Company of Jesus, 
 which are taken by its members at any stage of their progress, set 
 aside, and render null and void, all other promises, pledges, vows, 
 obligations, and oaths, which may have been made, or which may 
 afterwards be made to father, mother, brother, sister, wife, child, or 
 to any other human being whatever ; for, although they arc made 
 as if in the presence of God, by His supreme authority, they are set 
 aside, if in any manner they interfere with, or contravene these 
 Secret Instructions. 
 
 " II. No Member of the Company must be allowed, under any 
 circumstances, to debase himself, by showing toleration towards he 
 retics of any kind, and above all, towards Calvinists, or Protestants. 
 To show charity towards them, may sometimes be wise, but to feel 
 or exercise it ever, is a damning sin. All heretics and Protestants 
 are irrevocably lost. Christ himself cannot save them, nor does 
 he desire to ; and being Christ's soldiers, we must be like Him. 
 
 " III. The allegiance which every disciple of Loyola owes to 
 his General, absolves him from all allegiance to any foreign Prince, 
 Potentate, or law, whoever the Prince, whatever the country or 
 the law may be. The disciple of Loyola is a citizen of Heaven 
 he has no country on the earth it is not in the power of man 
 justly to exact his allegiance. We live, we move, we breathe 
 only for the Company of Jesus. Whatever action may promote 
 its interests, if it be judiciously performed, is meritorious in the 
 sight of Jesus, our Supreme General."
 
 THE OATH OP A JESUIT. 289 
 
 " These Jesuits," remarked Woolsey, " are not likely 
 to prove our very best citizens." 
 
 " How can they ?" rejoined Fouche. " I will read to 
 you the oath which every Jesuit must take> and then 
 you may judge for yourself." 
 
 " I, A. B., now in the presence of Almighty God, the blessed 
 Virgin Mary, the blessed Michael the Archangel, the blessed St. 
 John the Baptist, the holy Apostles St. Peter and St. Paul, and 
 all the saints and sacred host of heaven, and to you my ghostly 
 father, do declare from my heart, without mental reservation, that 
 
 his Holiness Pope is Christ's Vicar-General, and is the true 
 
 and only Head of the Catholic or universal Church throughout the 
 earth ; and that by the virtue of the keys of binding and loosing, 
 given to his Holiness by my Saviour Jesus Christ, he hath power 
 to depose heretical kings, princes, states, commonwealths, and 
 governments, all being illegal ivithout Ms sacred confirmation, and 
 that they may safely be destroyed: THEREFORE, to the utmost of my 
 power, I shall, and will defend this doctrine, and his Holiness' 
 rights and customs, against all usurpers of the heretical (or Pro 
 testant) authority whatsoever; especially against the now pre 
 tended authority of the Church of England, and all adherents, in 
 regard that they and she be usurpal and heretical, opposing the 
 sacred mother Church of Rome. / do renounce and disown any 
 allegiance as due to any heretical Icing, prince, or State, named 
 Protestants, or obedience to any of their inferior magistrates or 
 officers. I do further declare the doctrine of the Church of England, 
 the Calvinists, Huguenots, and of others of the name Protest* 
 13
 
 290 NO ALLEGIANCE EXCEPT TO ROME. 
 
 ants, to be damnable, and that they themselves are damned, and 
 to be damned, that will not forsake the same. I do further declare, 
 that I will help, assist, and advise all or any of his Holiness' agents 
 in any place wherever I shall be, in England, Scotland, and Ireland, 
 or in any other territory or kingdom I shall come to, and do my 
 utmost to extirpate the heretical Protestants' doctrine, and to destroy 
 all their pretended powers, regal or otherwise. I do further promise 
 and declare, that notwithstanding I am dispensed with, to assume 
 any religion heretical, for the propagating of the mother church's 
 interest, to keep secret and private all her agents' counsels, from 
 time to time, as they entrust me, and not to divulge, directly or 
 indirectly, by word, writing, or circumstance whatsoever, but to 
 execute all that shall be proposed, given in charge, or discovered 
 unto me, by you, my ghostly father, or any of this sacred Convent. 
 All which, I, A. B., do swear by the blessed Trinity, and blessed 
 Sacrament, which I am now to receive, to perform, and on my 
 part to keep inviolably; and do call all the heavenly and glorious 
 host of heaven to witness these my real intentions, to keep this 
 my oath. In testimony hereof, I take this most holy and blessed 
 Sacrament of the Eucharist ; and witness the same further with 
 
 my hand and seal, in the face of this holy Convent, this day 
 
 of An. Dora.," &c. 
 
 " Are you entirely confident, Fouche, that "what you 
 have read is a fair exposition of the principles of 
 Jesuitism?" 
 
 " I entertain no more doubt of the authenticity of this 
 document, than I should of the genuineness of the
 
 JESUITS PROVED TO BE MONARCHISTS. 291 
 
 original copy of the Constitution of the United States, 
 was his reply.* 
 
 * At the latest moment, while these pages are going through 
 the press, we find in the New York Crusader, edited with great 
 ability by M. Secchi de Casali, the following document, which so 
 strikingly illustrates the spirit of Jesuitism that we insert it 
 
 TO HIS ROYALi MAJESTY, FERDINAND n., KING OF THE TWO SICILIES. 
 
 College of the Gesii Nuovo. 
 
 Naples, Nov. 21, 1854. 
 SACRED MAJESTY: 
 
 SIRE "We heard with much surprise that there are persons 
 around your throne, who doubt our sincere sentiments towards 
 Absolute Monarchy ; therefore, we believe it necessary to specify 
 them in the present note. 
 
 Sire, we, not only from the remotest period, but also from our 
 re-establishment, in 1821, down to the present time, have always 
 evinced love and, obedience to your Majesty, to your government, 
 and to the political form of your administration, which is absolute 
 monarchy. 
 
 This we have done, not only from conviction, but also, because 
 the most learned men of the Society of Jesus, such as Francis 
 Suarez, Cardinal Bellarmino, and many other Theologians and 
 writers HAVE PUBLICLY TAUGHT THAT ABSOLUTE MONARCHY is THE BEST 
 FORM OF GOVERNMENT. 
 
 This we have done, because the internal system of the Society of 
 Jesus is monarchical, therefore, we are by maxim and by education, 
 attached to Absolute Monarchy, in which alone Catholicism by
 
 292 ABSOLUTE MONARCHY THE BEST GOVERNMENT. 
 
 " Then," said Woolsey, " we know our men, and if, 
 with their system of policy, we cannot make political 
 capital out of Hubert, we shall be dull scholars." 
 
 the wisdom and zeal of a PIOUS King, can find a more secure 
 defence and prosperity. 
 
 Sire, that WE THINK, AND BELIEVE, AND UPHOLD, THAT ABSOLUTE 
 Sio.vARcuY is TIIE BEST OF ALL GOVERNMENTS, is shown by the expul- 
 sion which we suffered in 1848. "We have been the victims of the 
 liberal party, because all liberals have been, and are yet, too much 
 persuaded that the Jesuits are in favor of Absolute Monarchy. 
 
 These things, Sire, are too well known, and all the liberal parties 
 will easier believe that to-morrow the sun shall not rise, rather 
 than admit that the Jesuits favor them ; consequently, at each 
 popular revolution, the Jesuits are the foremost in the list of the 
 proscribed. 
 
 The liberals have, as an inviolable canon of their law, that of 
 never admitting a Jesuit among them, nor those 'persons attached 
 to our principles. 
 
 Finally, the Jesuits in the Kingdom of Naples HAVE ALWAYS 
 TAUGHT it to be illegal, to make revolutions in order to change the 
 Absolute Monarchy, which has always been the policy of your 
 royal dynasty. 
 
 That, in case this was considered insufficient to be thought anti- 
 liberal, we humbly beg your Majesty to condescend to point out to us 
 what else we should do in order to be believed decided Absolutists. 
 
 Certainly, the Jesuits have never been in any place or time 
 caressed by the liberal parties ; and why then shall they refuse.
 
 THE DEMAGOGUES PART TO MEET AGAIN. 293 
 
 It was already a late hour of night, and the politicians 
 separated with the pledge of meeting again in the same 
 place, the next evening ; and Fouehe was to bring Love- 
 black with him. 
 
 their love and obedience to the Absolute Government of the mag 
 nanimous King Ferdinand II., -who has so much benefited them ? 
 
 Finally, Sire, we have always made use of these sovereign benefits 
 only for the good of Christian and Catholic morals, and of your reign 
 ing dynasty, to profess immutable attachment and fidelity to the 
 form of government of absolute monarchy, to which we declare 
 ourselves always devoted, and we hope that your Majesty will grant 
 us the favor of BEING ENABLED TO RECONFIRM THESE SENTIMENTS AT THE 
 
 FEET OF TOUR MAJESTY. 
 
 This petition is signed by me, by the Consulting Fathers, and by 
 all the others whom I could gather in so short a space of time ; 
 and in case your Majesty desires the signatures of all the Jesuits of 
 the Province of Naples, you shall have them immediately. Mean 
 time, we, the undersigned, are fully answerable for their devotion 
 to absolute monarchy : 
 
 Signed Joseph M. Paladini, Provincial of the Society of Jesus ; 
 Joseph M. de Rosa, Rector of the College of the Nobility ; David 
 Palomba, Rector of the College of the Gesu Nuovo; Jerome Para- 
 disi, Rector of the College of Lucera; John B. Rossi, Secretary of 
 the Province of Naples; E. G. Grossi,'P. Capelloni, G. M. Cutinelli, 
 A. M. Vinzi, A. Cercia, T. Carlandi, G. Costa, C. Barbati, G. B. de 
 Sinno, A. Salvio, A. Cercia, F. BerardinelH, S. Centrella, Nicola 
 Sorrentino, T. Garavini, E. Borgianelli, G. Vigilante, C M. Blois.
 
 294 ONE MOMENT FOR GENEVRA. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXVIL 
 
 THE WILL. 
 
 "GENEVRA, my dear," said Vincenzi, as she placed a 
 cushion under his feet, and gave him a cup of chocolate, 
 " is not Father Jaudan below ? I thought I heard him 
 speak as the door opened, when you came in." 
 
 " Yes, my dear father ; and he said he would like 
 to see you after you had breakfasted." 
 
 " Kiss me first, my darling, and then run down, and 
 tell him I shall be happy to see him." 
 
 Genevra tenderly embraced her father, and obeyed. 
 In a few moments Jaudan appeared. 
 
 " Good morning, Padre. Come in : I wish to have a 
 little conversation with you about my will." 
 
 " Certainly certainly my good brother ; but you do 
 not look this morning as though you needed to make 
 a will. I have not seen you looking as well for many a 
 day." 
 
 " It is a deceitful glow, General ; but, thank God, I
 
 THE JESUIT AND THE SICK MAN. 295 
 
 feel prepared for all changes. Now, concerning this 
 will. Have you still the one I made in Italy 1" 
 
 " Yes, I believe so," said Jaudav. with an air of 
 indifference. " I suppose I brought it with me. I'll 
 look over my papers in a day or two." 
 
 " Padre," said Vincenzi, after a pause, and in an 
 unsteady voice, " I have some misgivings on the subject 
 of constraining my daughter to take the veil. I find she 
 has a decided antipathy to it ; and I fear she will be too 
 unhappy to become a devoted Sister of the Church. 
 Can we in no way bring her to her duty, and yet leave 
 her free and happy ? I did hope that ere this you would 
 have brought her mind to a proper appreciation of our 
 holy religion." 
 
 Jaudan was troubled ; but he did not evince any 
 emotion. 
 
 " My good brother," he said, " have you not lived long 
 enough to know, that when a young maiden's heart is 
 filled with the image of a lover, there is no place there for 
 other thoughts ]" 
 
 " True, Padre ; but Genevra is aware that I can 
 never allow her to wed that heretic Burleigh ; her soul 
 would then be lost irretrievably." 
 
 "You feel, and speak like a Christian, my brother. 
 Your duty is plain. Let Genevra renounce her heresies, 
 and join the Holy Church ; she shall then be mistress
 
 296 THE FEELINGS OF THE FATHER. 
 
 of her own actions : not to marry a heretic, to be sure. 
 But if she obstinately and impenitently resists the voice 
 of God, and the commands of her temporal and spiritual 
 fathers, she must be brought into the fold, even by 
 constraint, if need be." 
 
 This was a deep probe. But like a skilful surgeon, 
 the Jesuit regarded results, rather than the feelings of 
 his patient. Vincenzi passed his hand over his face his 
 lips quivered 
 
 " Genevra is an affectionate and devoted child, General ; 
 and it is hard for me to die, and know that I leave her 
 unhappy. I sometimes think that I made her poor 
 mother unnecessarily miserable ; and as I have nothing 
 to conceal from you, I will say that this thought has 
 weighed on me like a mountain. Not a day of my life 
 has gone by, since Genevra's mother died, that I would 
 not have given all I had, to have recalled her once more 
 to the living world, if she would have given me the assur 
 ance of her forgiveness. It seems to me, Padre, that 
 harshness and severity like this, from the parent to the 
 child, is even worse than to the wife from the hus 
 band." 
 
 Vincenzi's frame shook, and he sobbed aloud. 
 
 The Jesuit felt that his victim was slipping from his 
 grasp. 
 
 " There must be no more trifling" he thought.
 
 THE TERRORS OF HELL. 297 
 
 " Brother" he answered, in a severe tone " the soul 
 is precious above all things. As a true Catholic, you 
 should have no forgiveness for heretics, unless they re 
 pent of their sin ; for God himself has none. You pro 
 bably will soon have to render an account of your stew 
 ardship, to the God who died on the cross, for your soul ! 
 Your wife is lost ! Will you, too, abandon to perdition 
 the priceless soul of your child 1 While there is the 
 shadow of a hope of her being wedded to Burleigh, she 
 will never change her faith. If her soul is lost, I tell 
 you, in God's name, that her blood will be upon your 
 head; and all the prayers and efforts of the Catholic 
 world, cannot save you ! That would be a sin, for which 
 even the Holy Mother herself would not mediate ; and 
 when you have gone to the grave, and your condemned 
 soul has gone to its eternal prison, you will, from a still 
 lower depth, perhaps, hear the lost spirit of your child 
 crying to you ' You did not save me.' Vincenzi for I 
 hardly dare to call you brother, again Vincenzi, beware, 
 what you do ! Let . not a weak, and wicked affection, 
 sacrifice your soul, as well as the soul of your daughter. 
 You have your natural feelings ; but remember that it is 
 chiefly through these natural lusts, appetites, and passions, 
 that the dark chambers of eternal damnation are peopled. 
 Bemember, it is only ' to him that overcometh,' that the 
 crown of immortal life will be given ! Be firm ! be faith- 
 
 13*
 
 298 THE JESUIT IN THE PLACE OF GOD. 
 
 rul, to the last, and you will receive that reward which 
 awaits all the self-sacrificing disciples of Loyola." 
 
 Vincenzi sank back in his chair, subdued; contrite; 
 paralysed ; the cowering slave of his master. 
 
 " Forgive me, Holy Father" he feebly exclaimed 
 " forgive my poor, weak, human nature. You are my 
 spiritual guide you are wiser and better than I ever can 
 be tell me then, Father, are you sure that if I do all 
 this, my own soul will be saved ?" 
 
 Jaudan rose to his full stature, and lifting his right 
 arm, he said, with an earnestness, a majesty, and a power, 
 that not only convinced, but overwhelmed the helpless 
 invalid 
 
 " I swear it to you, Vincenzi, as a man and I promise 
 it to you in the place of God Almighty !" 
 
 Vincenzi breathed freer. The perspiration rolled in 
 streams from his pallid temples. 
 
 " I knew it ! I knew it ! Forgive me that I hesitated 
 one moment. I have made you the guardian, spiritual 
 and temporal, of my daughter. But oh ! when I am 
 gone, be gentle to my child! She has a tender heart." 
 
 " Do not fear, my son," said Jaudan, laying his hand 
 on the head of Vincenzi ; " God will bless you. Your 
 daughter shall be as if she were my own. But of the 
 Will ? Did you wish to make any changes in it ?" 
 
 " I did ; but I do not now. It will not be necessary.
 
 " OUR CATHOLIC STATE." 299 
 
 All my wealth goes to our Holy Order. I will make no 
 change. Our poor, persecuted brethren shall receive 
 some comfort, and this benighted land some benefit 
 from it." 
 
 " Since it was made abroad, I think it will be best to 
 have it legalized here, or to have another made." 
 
 " Very well, General ; bring it to-morrow, and we will 
 look it over, and make all the requisite changes." 
 
 "My dear Brother," said Jaudan, taking Vincenzi's 
 hand confidingly, "the autumn air is getting somewhat 
 chilly, and the season in this northern region will soon be 
 trying to an invalid. What do you say to a sojourn in 
 Maryland, or its neighborhood, for the winter ? I have 
 some important business, belonging to our Company, to 
 transact there ; and as I shall very much need the 
 assistance of our excellent Father O 'Sullivan, could you 
 not, by gentle stages, accompany us ? I am sure you 
 will improve by the change of air ; nor am I quite cer 
 tain that you would not altogether recover. It would 
 delight the young ladies, of course. Besides, surrounded 
 there, as your daughter would be, by Catholic influences, 
 and the highest society, I think there would be a far bet 
 ter prospect of overcoming her prejudices ; especially as 
 it will not then be necessary to guard her so carefully 
 from outside influences. Maryland, you know, toe call 
 our Catholic State"
 
 300 THE HOLY CONFESSOR. 
 
 " If you and my Confessor think it best, most certainly 
 I will go. I feel quite equal to the journey, if we do not 
 have to travel by night. And the poor girls ! Yes, I 
 have quite imprisoned them during the summer ; but in 
 valids are always selfish. Yes, let us go, and as soon 
 as you please. Padre 0' Sullivan manages all my 
 little business affairs so snugly, that we could get off in a 
 few days. He is a very holy man, General he must 
 be." 
 
 " Very," said Jaudan ; " very very. There are few 
 among the best of us endowed with such abundant 
 grace !" 
 
 " He seems," continued Vincenzi, " to have brought 
 all his lusts, appetites, and passions into complete subjec 
 tion to the will of God." 
 
 " Every one." 
 
 " He has not a thought, except for the good of others." 
 
 * Not one." 
 
 "General, how thankful I ought to be, that I have 
 such a Confessor !" 
 
 " Yes, how thankful ! I trust you are thankful, my 
 brother." 
 
 " May God make me still more so !" 
 
 "And the Holy Virgin," said Jaudan; and they both 
 crossed themselves. 
 
 Jaudari had no particular liking for such sce
 
 JESUIT TRICKS. 301 
 
 spiritual feeling, and he brought this one to a close as 
 quickly as he cleverly could. 
 
 "You have taken a weight from my heart, brother 
 Vincenzi ; for as I must go South myself, I should be very 
 unhappy to leave this little household, which is so dear 
 to me." And pressing Vincenzi's hand affectionately, he 
 went out. 
 
 He had told the truth it would have made him very 
 unhappy to have left that little household ; and Vincenzi 
 had taken a great weight from his heart in the matter of 
 the Will particularly. 
 
 As he closed the door, he found himself face to faco 
 with the black form of Father O'Sullivan. The Confessor 
 bowed low before his Superior ; but Jaudan seized him 
 by the sleeve, and drawing him into his room, which ad 
 joined Vincenzi's, he said, hurriedly, and in a low voice : 
 
 " All goes well ; everything seems secure. Prepare 
 for our departure for Maryland in a week. In the mean 
 time, do not let him have too much conversation with 
 Genevra. Keep her from his presence as much as possi 
 ble, even if you have to send the girls off to Greenwood 
 again, you bungling old monk, you." He said this so 
 good-naturedly, that the Confessor, who was nobody's 
 fool, construed it into quite a compliment. 
 
 " Have no alarm, General ; I am getting to manage 
 that pretty little heretic with more success. But, Gene-
 
 302 THE CROSS-EXAMINATION. 
 
 ral, she is one of the hardest cases I have ever had to 
 deal with ; and I sometimes think that Inez herself does 
 not help us along very much, while it is more than 
 possible she has been playing the hypocrite all the time." 
 
 "Never mind," he said, " never mind ; the girls must 
 not be separated now ; and when we get them down to 
 Maryland, they will be in a better atmosphere. You 
 know, O'Sullivan, that the Catholics have always consti 
 tuted the aristocracy of that State ; and they have none 
 but the kindest feelings towards our Order. By the by, 
 did you tell Vincenzi that the girls met Burleigh at 
 Greenwood ?" 
 
 " By no means, General. But the moment they got 
 home, without taking off her bonnet, Genevra ran up to 
 her father's room, and told him all about it herself." 
 
 " Curse the girl. Here we have been all summer try 
 ing to catch her in a lie, that would alienate her father 
 for ever, and we have not done it yet." 
 
 " I told you, General, she was a hard case." 
 
 " And you told the truth for once. "What did Vin 
 cenzi say, after the girl got through?" continued Jau- 
 dan, biting his lips with vexation. 
 
 " He kissed her, and said she must not expose herself 
 again to such an encounter, or he could not forgive her." 
 
 " For Heaven's sake, O'Sullivan ! be careful ; for I 
 had rather give up my own life, and the lives of those
 
 JESUIT WORK IN NEW YORK. 303 
 
 I love best, than to have this great prize slip from our 
 grasp." 
 
 O'Sullivan had some doubt on this point; but he kept 
 it to himself. 
 
 " Santa Maria /" said Jaudan, " we had both nearly 
 forgotten to look over the list of yesterday's work ;" and 
 taking an ivory tablet from his pocket, the following 
 questions were rapidly put and answered : 
 
 " Has Captain Stewart yet got any clue to his daughter, 
 who went off with her governess ?" 
 
 " Not yet ; but he has raised earth and heaven to do 
 it." 
 
 " How old are the sisters still left in the family ?" 
 
 " Eleven, and fifteen." 
 
 " Don't you think you could contrive now to get one 
 of our Protestant governesses into that house ; for if 
 either of those girls have the genius of their sister, it 
 would be worth a million to win her ; and although our 
 policy does not admit of taking more than one egg from 
 the nest at a time, still we must, sooner or later, have 
 them all, if they be of this color." 
 
 " I think, General, the daughter of that Presbyterian 
 minister the secret of whose seduction we alone possess 
 would serve our purposes." 
 
 " Try it. "Where has Burleigh been during the last 
 twenty -four hours ?"
 
 304 JESUITISM IN OUR FIRST FAMILIES. 
 
 " Still at the New York Hotel." 
 
 " Has he been seen around the street here again ?" 
 
 " No, General." 
 
 "Into how many of those families I spoke of, on 
 the Fifth Avenue, have you succeeded in getting our 
 jfemmes de chambre ?" 
 
 " Numbers 964, 1242, and 1706, as they stand on our 
 private list." 
 
 " Give me your book." 
 
 O'Sullivan produced it from a secret place, and Jau- 
 dan read the descriptions, and made notes of them on his 
 tablet. 
 
 " This is well. It is more important to win those 
 three families than you have any idea of, O'Sullivan. 
 Number 1242 is worth two million dollars. What 
 is the report from the Intelligence Office, number 
 one?" 
 
 "They have succeeded admirably. During the last 
 seven days, they have put forty-six foreign Catholic girls, 
 who are under our protection, into as many different 
 Protestant families, where they had got an equal num 
 ber of heretic servant girls dismissed ; and they have, 
 during the same time, introduced seven of our professed 
 Protestant girls into the families of those Catholics who 
 hate us." 
 
 " The fellows in that Intelligence Office manage things
 
 JESUITS IN INTELLIGENCE OFFICES. 305 
 
 like men of business. You had a pretty fair sum to pay 
 them for their week's work ?" 
 
 " I thought I would be liberal ; but it only cost five 
 hundred dollars, General." 
 
 " Cheap as dirt ! Why, O'Sullivan, money, after all, 
 seems to go further in New York than I had any concep 
 tion of. How are you getting on with the other intelli 
 gence offices ?" 
 
 " We are making progress, but rather slowly. It may 
 
 become necessary for us to buy out their business, and 
 
 % 
 
 put our own men there." 
 . " What will it cost for No. 2 ?" 
 
 " About ten thousand dollars, General." 
 
 " See if you can't get it for less. Could not you save 
 half the money, by buying half the business 1" 
 
 " I think I have a better plan than that, General. 
 There are only two partners. I can get Hubert's old 
 butler, who has five or six thousand dollars, to invest his 
 money there, and become one partner ; while we pay 
 five thousand, and put in, for the other, that clever fellow 
 who does all the little jobs -of O'Donnell." 
 
 " Capital ! capital stroke of finance and policy too ! 
 How are you getting on with that poor American wo 
 man V 
 
 " Excellently. She feels very grateful for our kind 
 ness. The children are well clothed, and going to our
 
 306 FASHIONABLE PROTESTANTS. 
 
 primary school at St. Peter's. I have made some col 
 lections for them, among Protestant families where I am 
 acquainted, who, I find, give with more freedom Avhen 
 we seem to be working for Protestants, than our own peo 
 ple do themselves. It is often the case, in fact, that they 
 give quite munificently, when the appeal is made to them 
 for poor Catholics." 
 
 " Will this woman live ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes ! and she is already talking about taking the 
 Holy Sacramenf, for she says, that although she and her 
 husband belonged, for many years, to a fashionable Pres 
 byterian church in the city, to which he had contributed 
 thousands of dollars, she never received the slightest at 
 tention or kindness from its members after her husband's 
 death had left her in abject poverty. She says that it 
 matters little to her what garments clergymen wear, or 
 what name their denomination is called by, if they have 
 the spirit of Christ. ' You,' she told me this morning, 
 ' have been sent to me by a merciful God, who remem 
 bers the poor ; and I begin to feel that Providence is 
 showing me the way to the true Faith, once delivered to 
 the Saints.' " 
 
 " Somehow or other, O'Sullivan, you manage these 
 things admirably ; you accomplish so much in so little 
 time, and you understand what glorious chances the 
 preachers and members of these fashionable Protestant
 
 A SPY IN EVERY AMERICAN HOME. 307 
 
 churches as they call them give to us by excluding 
 the poor from their fold and their charities. I wish we 
 had a hundred thousand dollars to expend upon neglect 
 ed and indigent Protestant widows in this city during the 
 approaching winter." 
 
 " Hubert thinks this one of his strong points ; and I am 
 not sure but we may have that amount for this purpose." 
 
 " Are you certain now, O'Sullivan, that we have one 
 or more Jesuit servants, maids, governesses, coachmen, or 
 somebody else, in every rich Protestant house in New 
 York ?" 
 
 " Nearly." 
 
 " Are you equally certain, that we have our people in 
 every rich Catholic family in New York ?" 
 
 " Yes, General, every one." 
 
 " We are, then, making some progress, I take it, and 
 want nothing more but money. That we will have, 
 quantum sufficit" 
 
 O'Sullivan seemed to think this might have some refer 
 ence to Vincenzi's prospects of life ; and, with one of his 
 significant chuckles, he added 
 
 " I hope we shall not be blessed, then, with a particu 
 larly long Indian summer." 
 
 Jaudan joined fervently in this devotional wish ; and 
 bidding his accomplice adieu, he glided out of the 
 house.
 
 308 THE NEW YORK HERALD EXTRA. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 THE THREE CONSPIRATORS AGAIN. 
 
 WOOLSEY was sitting by his table, and although he 
 seemed to be alone, yet he created a social atmosphere 
 around him by the fragrant aroma of a delicious cigar, 
 and an occasional potation from the black bottle not the 
 bottle of the preceding night ; for that bottle had gone 
 to that bourne, from whence spirits never return. He 
 was reading an Extra of the New York Herald one of 
 those myriad leaves of History, that had just been sent 
 by the lightning Press of that establishment, and circu 
 lated over a great Metropolis, bringing to half a million 
 of readers, one week's record of the struggles of revolu 
 tionary Europe, before the steamer that brought the news 
 had struck the dock. 
 
 But Woolsey felt no special interest in the fortunes of 
 struggling nations at that moment. He glanced with 
 indifference, from paragraph to paragraph, which recorded 
 the heroic achievements of those patriotic men, who were
 
 "WOOLLY HEADS" "STATE BARBER." 309 
 
 heading the columns of Nations, struggling to be free. 
 The world hung with breathlessness and sympathy, upon 
 every note that came from those fields of struggle. 
 Masses of enlightened men, in all the great capitals of 
 free nations, assembled to send back their shout of sym 
 pathy to the heroes of the Revolution of 1848. But 
 Woolsey was too deeply interested in building up Jesuit 
 ism in the New World, to afford much sympathy for its 
 downfall in the Old. His countrymen were inquiring 
 after the fortunes of Lamartine, of Bemm, of Dembinski, 
 and of Kossuth. He was more interested in Hubert, 
 Fouche, and Loveblack. He turned to the Editorial 
 page, where his eye fell upon something that concerned 
 himself. It was one of those trenchant leaders, which 
 daguerreotype the political intrigues of American dema 
 gogues. 
 
 " Here is more of that confounded stuff about ' Woolly 
 Heads' ' State Barber' 'Good enough, Morgan, till after 
 the Election' ' Higher Law ;' " and rising from his chair, 
 as he threw down the paper, he walked hurriedly across 
 the room. " Perdition seize the hoary miscreant of that 
 Satanic Press," he cried , 
 
 Fouche entered, and Loveblack came shuffling in 
 behind him. Fouche observed Woolsey's discomposure. 
 " What has disturbed you, Woolsey ? You have not 
 fallen out with our new friends, I Hope?"
 
 310 WHAT IS TO BE DONE WITH BENNETT 1 
 
 " Oh no ! far from it. But I confess I have been a 
 little irritated by the leader in the Herald of this morn 
 ing." 
 
 " Why, Woolsey, I thought you had stopped reading 
 that paper altogether." 
 
 " Have you?" 
 
 " No ; I am obliged to read it professionally, as an 
 Editor." 
 
 " Well, I confess that I read it for a very different 
 reason. I read it as a politician, because it concerns 
 what we are doing ; and if we are headed off at all, it will 
 be in that quarter. If it were not for that paper, we 
 should have things pretty much our own way." 
 
 " But he is doing our work for us," rejoined Fonche. 
 " He is the most zealous advocate of our Candidate, in the 
 whole country, and boasts that he was the first to nomi 
 nate him." 
 
 " Yes, and he will be the first to desert him ; for desert 
 him he will, the moment he discovers that we have made 
 him our instrument. Now, is there nothing that can be 
 done to prevent this ? The new President and the new 
 Cabinet can have Bennett's support, only on condition 
 that they give the country a National Administration, 
 and a National Administration is just the thing that we 
 do not want. It must be a Northern Administration ; 
 or, in other words, we must control it ourselves."
 
 LOVEBLACK AND HIS TEMPERANCE CABINET. 311 
 
 Loveblack had come there that evening, very much as 
 an undevout Catholic goes to the Confessional. He had 
 slunk away into his chair, and had really felt very little 
 interest in the conversation thus far ; but now he turned 
 to the two who had been speaking, and with unusual 
 emphasis, said, 
 
 " I like this idea a great deal better than I do that 
 Jesuit business. How many Temperance men and Abo 
 litionists do you intend to put into that Cabinet ?" 
 
 At this suggestion, Fouche laughed outright. That 
 any Cabinet could ever be got together in Washington, 
 whose principles and habits would be likely to suit Love- 
 black's views, or his Abolition proclivities, was ludicrous 
 in the extreme. 
 
 Loveblack retreated into his white coat again ; and 
 pulling up the long skirts over his bony legs, he collapsed 
 into the easy chair. 
 
 Recovering from his laughter, Fouche turned to Wool- 
 sey, and continued the conversation. 
 
 " We will talk about Bennett, by and by. I am more 
 concerned, for the present, in knowing how our plan is 
 received by our friends from other States. Have you 
 laid the matter before Crittenden, or Leslie Combs, or 
 Corwin ; and, above all, have you heard anything from 
 Clayton ? I have my doubts about his going in for this 
 arrangement."
 
 312 THE BARGAIN STRUCK WITH HUBERT. 
 
 " From Clayton and Crittenden I have heard nothing ; 
 but the others I have seen, and it will work. * Corwin 
 expects to go into the Cabinet. He regards that as a 
 matter cut and dried ; and he raised no objections, but, 
 on the contrary, gave me credit for securing the Catholic 
 vote. Of course, I did not tell him all our secrets ; nor 
 exactly how the thing was managed; for, I take it, we 
 may as well keep the gist of that business to ourselves. 
 It will be enough for us to insist, when the pay-day 
 comes, upon every office which the Jesuits want; and 
 we can do it on the open, fair ground of political help 
 and expediency." 
 
 " And then," said Fouche, " you have probably got 
 some intimations from Hubert, in regard to what he and 
 his friends want ?" 
 
 " Yes ; too much information, perhaps." 
 
 " They want tbe lion's share, then ?" 
 
 " Yes ; and I am not quite sure, but the lamb's, too." 
 And Woolsey took from his pocket a small paper, and 
 read over a long list which had been made up that day, 
 by telegraph, from Boston through to Georgetown, em 
 bracing the intervening cities. 
 
 " They have about swept the board, it appears. "What 
 have we left for our Protestant friends ? For it really 
 seems to me, Woolsey, that the Americans should have 
 something."
 
 WOOLSBY'S OPINIONS OF HIS CONSTITUENTS. 313 
 
 "Woolsey's reply was full of meaning and full of truth. 
 In substance, it was the policy of both parties : 
 
 " Buy your enemies, for you are sure of your friends. 
 What are offices in the hands of politicians, but to be 
 used as bribes, to secure votes ?" 
 
 " How many times can the leaders of a party betray 
 their friends with impunity in this way ?" inquired 
 Fouche. 
 
 " Just as often as they can deceive them ; and that 
 depends upon the skill and adroitness with which they 
 can use power. And then, if any discontent arises, and 
 it is alleged that we have given the Catholics too many 
 offices, we have still all the isms that we have built 
 ourselves up on, thus far, left as resources ; and through 
 the agency of Loveblack and our friends, we can make it 
 manifest to the moral and religious portion of the com 
 munity, who are, after all, our main reliance, that we are 
 still the file leaders of every great moral, social, and. 
 reformatory movement. That class of people don't want 
 office ; and these fellows who get up a hue-and-cry will 
 find nobody to sympathize with them. It will only be a 
 howl of disappointed office-seekers ; and that never hurts 
 men in power. You remember what General Jackson 
 said, when he kicked his old Cabinet out at one door, 
 and introduced his new Cabinet at the other ?" 
 
 " To go on then for of course I agree with you in 
 14
 
 314 A LETTER FROM A PRESIDENTIAL CANDIDATE. 
 
 this matter how sure are you of your direct influence 
 over the mind of our Candidate ?" 
 
 " I conclude that this letter which I received to-day, is 
 all we need for the present." 
 
 Fouche looked at the letter. It was one of those 
 numberless epistles, written with the best of motives, 
 meaning everything or nothing, according to the interpre 
 tations politicians put upon them. Fouche threw the 
 letter down on the table, and inquired 
 
 "Is that all?" 
 
 " No ; nor do I attach much importance to the letter, 
 or to any letter which such a man would write, even 
 after his election. His Cabinet is yet to be formed, and 
 you know that no rough old soldier Avill feel at home 
 when he sits at that board of green cloth. Surround him 
 once with the right sort of a Cabinet, and he will be lost 
 in their speculations, purposes, and intrigues ; as the 
 honest fly is surrounded by seven spiders. The meshes 
 will be thrown around him hopelessly. He never will 
 have but one vote in the Council ; and that will be of no 
 avail, unless it suits our purposes." 
 
 " Let us come, then, to the Cabinet. From whence 
 shall they be taken ? Who shall they be ? And do 
 you intend, yourself, to be a member ?" 
 
 " That is the great point. If we fail here, all is lost 
 Jesuits, and everything else, and we shall have had our
 
 WOOLSEY'S POLITICAL POLICY. 315 
 
 labor for our pains. It would be doubtful policy for me 
 to accept a seat in the Cabinet. We have seen the 
 effect in the case of Martin Van Buren, who, aspiring to 
 the Presidency, accepted a seat in the Cabinet. He was 
 obliged to resign it, from the mere force of Public 
 Opinion. And it is evident that if he had remained in 
 the Senate, he could have put forth an influence that 
 would have controlled the Administration of General 
 Jackson. Let us take counsel from experience. In 
 what particular does my position differ from that of Van 
 Buren at that time 1 I am the friend of our next Presi 
 dent, and by displaying a certain degree of apparent 
 moderation in my desires, I can shape that Cabinet to 
 our liking. My only fear is, that the General may select 
 from among his Louisiana friends, some intimate associate 
 who will control his mind, and disconcert our wires 
 behind the scenes. I shall tell him, Fouche, that I have 
 no candidate from the State of New York to recommend 
 for his Cabinet ; and when we give up that natural 
 claim, we can ask that he also shall leave Louisiana out, 
 and make himself the representative of his own State in 
 the Cabinet. Having thus given up the claims of our 
 own State, who can, with so much propriety, advise the 
 President or his Cabinet in regard, not only as to the 
 appointments in New York, but in every portion of the 
 Union ? We shall gain the greater credit for it, because
 
 316 LOVEBLACK'S IDEA OF WOMAN'S RIGHTS. 
 
 we shall get tlie odor of nationality, of large and libera- 
 views, and show the nation that we are national men, 
 after all." 
 
 Loveblack had kept safely ensconced in his resting- 
 place during all this conversation ; but he was growing 
 sleepy, and he ventured to inquire if they had anything 
 more for him to do. 
 
 " Are there no lectures for me to deliver ? It seems 
 to me that you have overlooked one mighty element of 
 power in the approaching Election." 
 
 " What is that ?" inquired Fouche. 
 
 "Why, the Woman's Rights question. It is now 
 agitating the country from one end to the other. 
 Woman is no longer to be made the slave of man ; and 
 you will find that a great party is growing up in this 
 country, which has the sympathy of all the mothers, 
 wives, and daughters of the voters of this country ; and 
 they are already great enough to control the Election, if 
 proper instrumentalities are used to concentrate their 
 power. Is there no way, Mr. Woolsey, of having the 
 Women of America represented in this Cabinet 1 They 
 constitute, all over the world, more than one half the 
 human race, and you leave them out of your calculations 
 altogether." 
 
 This time Woolsey joined heartily in Fouche 's merri 
 ment; and feeling himself somewhat slighted, as the
 
 OLD WOMEN ENOUGH IN THE CABINET. 317 
 
 champion of a great reformatory movement, Loveblack 
 rose to go. 
 
 " Do not be troubled, Loveblack, on that score," added 
 Fouche ; " there will probably be old women enough in 
 the Cabinet, if we have our way." 
 
 Loveblack's face brightened at this suggestion, and he 
 went away, believing that better days were at hand for 
 the female sex. 
 
 " Now, Fouche, as to the Satanic Press. How shall 
 we guard against Bennett's desertion of the President 
 and his Cabinet, which is sure to take place, the very 
 moment he sees our tracks ?" 
 
 " Here money is powerless we can do nothing by 
 intimidation we can gain nothing by official favor we 
 can offer him nothing the fact is, he is altogether too 
 much his own man, for us to use at all. The only way 
 will be to get him out of the country, and if he is not 
 disposed to go, it can be done only by a trick." 
 
 ' I am not afraid of his staying here after the Elec 
 tion. He always goes to Europe after any important 
 American event has happened, and a lull takes place in 
 public affairs." 
 
 " Here there is a great fault in his policy ; for when 
 he leaves the country, he must leave the control of his 
 paper in the hands of somebody ; and however well 
 entitled the trustee may be to his confidence, the moral
 
 318 "THE MISCREANT OF THE HERALD." 
 
 dread that mankind have of that Journal when he is at 
 home, is all lost, and it sinks to the level of common news 
 papers. Every shrewd reader, without any announce 
 ment in the papers, among the list of arrivals, can tell 
 within twenty-four hours, by reading the Herald, that 
 ' the miscreant' is back again. We shall find no lack of 
 channels of approach to the columns of that paper, so 
 long as the Editor is away. I can bring it about ; and it 
 will not be done through any of Bennett's men either ; 
 for I should not expect to accomplish anything with 
 them. 
 
 " Having thus surveyed the ground, Fouche, to-mor 
 row I start for the West. We must strengthen our 
 selves in Pennsylvania. New York is safe. Van Buren 
 has killed off Cass, to a dead certainty. Now we must 
 look to our weak points. We must bring all our batte 
 ries to bear upon Pennsylvania and Ohio ; with these 
 
 three States, we can defy ail . It will require at 
 
 least three weeks for me to get round, and I think during 
 this time, I can deliver, by well arranged appointments, 
 nearly one hundred public addresses. You must stay in 
 the city, and catch every prominent man in our party as 
 he comes, and start him off upon our track, as far as it 
 will do. You must see Clayton, and all our men. Keep 
 Loveblack in the traces. He is rather lukewarm. If he 
 knew all we are doing, he would bolt; so push that
 
 HOW FOUCHE IS TO MAXAGE HUBERT. 319 
 
 woman business encourage Mm about their representa 
 tion in the Cabinet be on the look-out everywhere, and 
 let me know every day what transpires. Let me know 
 almost from hour to hour, how hard that bargain with 
 Hubert is likely to be driven ; and cool him off a little 
 by the worst side of our figures in regard to our prospects 
 for votes. If he thinks our game sure, even by his help, 
 do not appear to believe it yourself, and on the whole 
 (since I confess that I did not resort to quite my usual 
 sagacity in my chief interview with him), draw off a 
 little throw on cold water. No man is proof against 
 it, under such circumstances. He is carrying that mat 
 ter a little too stiff." After a brief pause, 
 
 " Let him understand, that it would be the ruin of any 
 party in creation, to pitch their honors into the street, in 
 that way, in such a game as this. If we do for Hubert 
 all he asks, both sides are ruined, because the plot be 
 comes apparent ; and as a good Jesuit, he will see the 
 force of that consideration. And then you must man 
 age, in traversing the State, to meet me at Buffalo, at 
 least seven days before the Election." 
 
 " You are talking now to some purpose, Woolsey. It 
 is certain that my power lies at home. Tour name is a 
 column of strength in the West. I have some doubt 
 .about your effecting much in Pennsylvania. You will 
 do best in the infected districts of Ohio, etc. As for
 
 320 WOOLSEY DRAINS THE BLACK BOTTLE. 
 
 Hubert, I rather like him : for I think I can make some 
 thing out of him. after all." 
 
 With what sincerity and regard two such men could 
 feel for one another, they parted. They shook each 
 other's hands earnestly, because they were both bent 
 on the same mission. 
 
 Woolsey 's trunk was packed, and he was to leave for 
 Philadelphia by the early morning train. But before he 
 threw the blinds together, he looked over the Park to a 
 long row of bright windows, across which were flitting 
 the rapid shadows of the arms of the type-setters and, 
 pausing a moment, he wondered what progress Love- 
 black had made in his Leader of the next morning, which 
 was to kindle in so many antiquated bosoms, the Bloomer 
 hope of a representation of the women in the next Cabi 
 net. 
 
 " Whether I have my way or not, Loveblack, in shap 
 ing the Cabinet," said Woolsey, " you may make sure of 
 having an old woman at the head of it." 
 
 Woolsey smiled complacently, drained the contents 
 of the last black bottle, and got into bed.
 
 THE CHANGE IN INEZ. 321 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 THE PLOT THICKENING. 
 
 IT so happened that Inez was coining down the stairway 
 from her room, just as Jaudan had passed into the apart 
 ment of O'Sullivan. She had before had many oppor 
 tunities to everhear conversations intended to be private ; 
 but like every true-hearted -and loyal character, it never 
 occurred to her, to do herself, what she would despise in 
 another. 
 
 But Inez had changed. la solving the mystery of her 
 birth, her mother had made her hate the father who had 
 perpetrated so deep a wrong. She felt a growing antipa 
 thy to his presence, and to the presence of any of his 
 accomplices. She believed that some dark scheme was 
 cherished against Vincenzi and Genevra. 
 
 There was no longer any one in all America she could 
 cling to, unless it were Genevra and Burleigh. She 
 therefore stopped on the stairway and thought : 
 
 " The two Jesuits are together. They forgot, for once
 
 322 INEZ LEARNS SECRETS. 
 
 in their lives, to shut the door tight. I would not have 
 put my ear to the key -hole but I will hang on this stair- 
 rail awhile, and if they are disposed to tell me their vil- 
 lanies, I am not going back to get some cotton batting to 
 put in my ears." 
 
 Our readers will applaud the spirit of Inez ; and yet 
 her face burned, there in the half-lighted hall, although 
 she could not feel precisely ashamed of herself. But as 
 she listened to the conversation as point after point of 
 the infernal machinery of Jesuitism in American homes, 
 came out upon her shocked ear, her cheek grew pale, and 
 at last, as she rose to fly back to her room, she was so 
 petrified with horror, that she could hardly drag herself 
 up. 
 
 Her first impulse was to unfold everything to Genevra, 
 that very night. 
 
 " No," she said to herself, " I will do no such thing. 
 I will sleep on this ; and who knows but, if I set my 
 wits to work, I can be a Jesuit too, in & petite way ! At 
 least," she said, as she closed the door " at least," she 
 said, as she clenched her little hand, and the fire of Anda 
 lusia flashed from her eye " I will try them." 
 
 Inez was not born a Jesuit. No loyal soul ever
 
 HOW PROTESTANTS ARE MADE. 323 
 
 was ; and she had, moreover, too keen a sense of honor, 
 to be made one. She had never bestowed any thought 
 upon Protestantism it never occurred to her till she 
 came to America, that there was any other form of Chris 
 tianity, than that represented by Jaudan. The Catholic 
 Church, with all its stupendous machinery, was to her, 
 only tributary to the Company of Jesus, whose General 
 was the seducer of her now broken-hearted mother. 
 
 During the last summer, however, Inez had begun to 
 change her opinions. It seemed to her, that there was 
 altogether more mystery, secresy, plotting, and under 
 hand management, among her Jesuit friends, than honest 
 people would ever consider necessary ; and the time had 
 nearly come, that Genevra had, to her own heart, pre 
 dicted, when Inez herself, would not only hate the 
 Jesuits, but begin to doubt even the Catholics themselves. 
 The conversation she heard while she was sitting on the 
 stairs, had done the work for her. 
 
 " I am resolved to avoid these people after this" she 
 said to herself " and I am going to adopt Genevra's 
 Religion. I do not care what it is ; for it makes her good, 
 kind, and true, and that is the kind of religion I want if 
 I ever take the trouble to get any. Heigh-ho ! I wish 
 that I was Carlo again." 
 
 Inez passed through quite a struggle that night, before 
 she went to sleep not about which was the best religion,
 
 324 INEZ WRITES TO BURLEIGH. 
 
 for she despatched that question very quick ; "but how 
 much of what she had learned, should she reveal to 
 Genevra ? She went to bed, with the resolution of telling 
 her, only that part of it which related to her going to 
 Maryland to pass the winter. 
 
 " It will be safe for me to tell so much, and then I may 
 take it into my head to tell the whole, some day." 
 
 It was with many misgivings that Genevra heard of 
 the projected departure for Maryland ; but as her father 
 seemed to be so revived with the prospect of the change 
 of air and scene, she raised no objections, believing that 
 she could, at any moment, communicate with Burleigh ; 
 and that, in all probability, he would soon follow 
 them. 
 
 Two days before the one fixed for the departure, Inez 
 wrote the following letter to Burleigh : . 
 
 " MONSIEUR BURLEIGH, I confess to you, with shame 
 and repentance, that I have not been true to you and 
 Genevra. But I have had to contend with a stronger 
 will than my own. Thank God, I have yet done no 
 harm ; nor is it too late to atone for my treachery, and 
 save Genevra. 
 
 " The letter you brought me, has opened my eyes to 
 the baseness of these Jesuits who surround me who 
 have educated me who have always been near me : and
 
 ANOTHER CONVENT. 325 
 
 who are now determined to make me their instrument, 
 whatever my fate may be. 
 
 " In two days, we leave for Maryland, to pass the 
 winter. The pretext is health ; but I am persuaded that 
 it is only a deep-laid scheme, to withdraw Genevra from 
 the eyes of all who have known her ; and to make their 
 work safe, and sure. Vincenzi cannot live long no cli 
 mate can save him ; for if he even gets well, he will soon 
 die he must die. I have overheard as much, that passed 
 between Jaudan and him, yesterday. The only motive 
 for this removal, is to accelerate his end. But fear not 
 I will watch over Genevra. They will not disturb her 
 until after her father is dead ; and then if it becomes 
 necessary, at his death-bed I will proclaim the villany. 
 You must follow us, as far at least as Baltimore ; to be 
 near enough in an emergency, to fly to our side the mo 
 ment Vincenzi is no more. I suspect we are going to 
 Johnstown, near the Convent of the Sacred Heart. If 
 you have any just laws in your country, Monsieur Bur- 
 leigh, you must look into them ; while I think they will 
 not entirely outwit Inez, by their tricks. 
 
 "Without alarming Genevra, by disclosing all their 
 plans, I have told her that I would take means to inform 
 you of our expected departure, to save her the necessity 
 of breaking her . pledge to her father, by writing to 
 you.
 
 326 PRUDENT AND PROMPT. 
 
 " Be prudent and prompt, and we shall have nothing 
 to fear. Let me know that you have received this 
 letter. Faithfully, 
 
 " INEZ."
 
 THE DEPARTURE FOR THE SOUTH. 327 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 THE DEPARTURE. 
 
 ON the morning of the departure, by the time the sun 
 had risen, Stanhope had taken his station at the window 
 of the ferry -iouse, to get a last glance at Genevra ; and 
 by some sign, assure Inez that he was always " prudent 
 and prompt," and would soon follow them to the South. 
 
 He had not long to wait ; for it suited the purposes of 
 Jaudan, to take his victim to Philadelphia by the early 
 morning train, as he would thereby escape the busy mid 
 day scrutiny of the great city they were leaving. 
 
 Only one of the carriage windows was open, and from 
 it Inez was looking. Stanhope could not see Genevra ; 
 but he waved his handkerchief, as he caught the glance 
 of Inez, through the bustling throng around them. He 
 was sure that he saw her little gloved hand, waved in 
 return, as the carriage drove on to the boat. The pres 
 sure on his heart grew lighter; for a change had come ; 
 and the excitement which new scenes of conflict always
 
 328 BURLEIGH MEETS CAPT. STEWART. 
 
 bring, afforded relief, and even exhilaration, to liis 
 unelastic spirits. He knew that Genevrawas in that car 
 riage with Inez, and that Padre Jaudan must be there 
 also, with Vincenzi. 
 
 " You make sure of your game now," said Stanhope 
 with a curse in his heart, which, if it could have controlled 
 the lightnings of heaven, would have blasted the form of 
 the conscience-seared villain, who was going with exult 
 ant heart to the accomplishment of his infernal purposes 
 " but I will be on your track before two suns have set." 
 
 As Burleigh turned from the archway, he found him 
 self directly in front of his old friend Captain Stew 
 art, of the " Stormy Petrel." They had not met since 
 the termination of the voyage. They cordially shook 
 each other by ihe hand ; but Burleigh was shocked at 
 the change a few months had wrought in the ruddy face 
 of the Captain. He was now pale ; his cheeks were 
 sunken, and he looked as though he had just risen from 
 a bed of lingering sickness. 
 
 " Good heavens, Captain !" cried Burleigh, " how 
 miserable you look ! "What has happened ? I should 
 hardly have known you. Have you been ill ?" 
 
 Stewart shook his head, and the tears swelled to his 
 eyes. 
 
 " Worse than that, Burleigh ! I have lost my eldest 
 daughter ; and in a manner worse than- death. She has
 
 HOW AGNES WAS LOST. 329 
 
 been stolen carried away from me ; and I have spent 
 all my time, since our return from the Mediterranean, in 
 searching for her, but without success." 
 
 " How ? In what manner was she stolen ?" 
 
 " Ah, Burleigh ! It is a long, sad story ; but if you 
 will have patience, I will tell it to you ;" and this strong 
 man, whose spirit had never before bent to any blast, 
 now dissolved under the terrific calamity that had nearly 
 broken his heart. 
 
 " I hardly know why I was here this morning, only 
 that it seems to me I am more likely to learn something 
 of my Agnes, when I am amidst the rushing throng of 
 human beings ; and, like you, I have been standing here, 
 gazing into every face that passed by ; for I think, ' who 
 knows who knows but a good God will either point out 
 the road that leads to my daughter, or put me upon the 
 track of the villains who" have despoiled me ?' " 
 
 " My dear Captain," said Burleigh, with an expression 
 of deep sympathy, " let me know all about this. Per 
 haps I may be able to help you." 
 
 " I will ; but this is no place for us to converse. The 
 ' Stormy Petrel ' lies at the next pier above ; let us go 
 aboard, and we can have our talk in the cabin without 
 interruption. We will have a cup of coffee, too, for you 
 cannot yet have taken your breakfast." 
 
 Seated once more at the hospitable board of the
 
 330 A JESUITESS GOVERNESS. 
 
 " Stormy Petrel," the Captain sadly continued the narra 
 tion : 
 
 " Eighteen months ago, I was returning with my wife 
 and our daughter Agnes, from a six-months' tour in 
 Europe. On the packet, my wife formed an intimacy 
 with a very accomplished young English widow, who 
 was coming to the United States, with a large number 
 of letters of introduction to persons of distinction here ; 
 and these letters all represented her standing in England 
 as of the highest respectability. Her entire demeanor, 
 her conversation, and her accomplishments, showed that 
 she was worthy of confidence, and entitled to admission 
 into the very best classes of society. She completely 
 won the heart of Agnes ; and when we landed, my wife 
 pressed her so earnestly to go at once to our house, and 
 make it her home, that she complied. Feeling, however, 
 that it would be indelicate to accept such an invitation 
 to become our mere companion and guest, she affixed the 
 condition, that if she remained beyond a visit of a few 
 days, she should do so only as the governess of our 
 children. 
 
 " She became a member of our family, and before ten 
 days were over, she was permanently installed as gover 
 ness; with Agnes and her sisters under a thorough 
 course of study, in French, music, drawing, and all those 
 accomplishments so delightful in the female sex. I have
 
 AGNES AND HER HISTORY. 331 
 
 never seen a more charming or gifted woman. She was 
 not only exceedingly beautiful, but her conversation and 
 manners were graced by the liveliest wit, and the most 
 winning enchantment. She seemed to make our little 
 world her world. Whenever my wife spoke of her de 
 livering the letters of introduction and several of them 
 were to her intimate acquaintances Mrs. Eglington 
 would reply, that she was so happy and contented where 
 she was, she did not care to extend the circle of her 
 acquaintance. And so things went on for an entire year. 
 She had won the heart of the whole family ; and the 
 girls loved her better than they seemed to love one 
 another. 
 
 " During my voyage to the Mediterranean, in the 
 ' Stormy Petrel,' I had not felt the first solicitude about 
 my family, and I was continually congratulating myself 
 upon the good fortune which had secured to us the 
 advantages and the pleasure of Mrs. Eglington's society. 
 
 "Agnes, being the eldest of the girls, used very 
 frequently to come down to New York with her gover 
 ness, under the pretext of making calls, to deliver those 
 letters of introduction. These visits grew more frequent, 
 and at last, it was not unusual for them to come down to 
 New York Saturday morning, to visit among friends, and 
 not return till Monday. 
 
 "xVbout a week before the 'Stormy Petrel' arrived
 
 332 AGNES' FLIGHT. 
 
 from Genoa, Agnes and her governess had come to town 
 on one of these visits, taking with them a much larger 
 quantity of luggage than usual. Monday passed away, 
 and they did not return. Tuesday went by, and nothing 
 was heard of them. My wife grew anxious, and came 
 to the city. She called on several families where they 
 were in the habit of visiting, but, to her amazement, 
 learned that during the four days of their absence, no 
 one had seen them. She returned to Cresthome almost 
 distracted. That evening the mystery was explained. 
 Two letters were received, one from Mrs. Eglington, and 
 another from my poor, deluded child. Agnes told us 
 that she had determined to abandon the world, and 
 devote herself to God that she had entered a Convent, 
 where she should spend the rest of her days that it 
 would be utterly useless to seek for her ; or even if she 
 were found, to attempt to turn her from her purpose 
 that she should be happy, and if her mother thought she 
 had done wrong, she hoped she would forgive her, and 
 not be afflicted by the step she had taken. The letter 
 from that serpent woman was much to the same effect. 
 She had found my daughter, she said, a piously inclined 
 and affectionate girl, and she felt that it would be a sin 
 to have her thrown away upon the follies of the world, 
 and she deemed it her duty to gather this lovely flower, 
 and lay it at the feet of the Holy Virgin. She repeated
 
 THE SEARCH FOB AGNES. 333 
 
 what Agnes had said that it would be useless to attempt 
 to discover their retreat. 
 
 " Two hours after we came to anchor off Hoboken, I 
 crossed the threshold of my home, and this terrible news 
 broke. upon me like a bolt from Heaven. I found my 
 wife in the delirium of a brain fever, and my sweet girls 
 had to tell me the story." 
 
 The Captain had, till this moment, been able to give 
 the narrative with some degree of composure : but when 
 he spoke of his wife and children, his trembling lips 
 could no longer utter a word, and with a convulsive sob, 
 he burst into tears, and dropped his head upon the table. 
 Was there a manly heart in the world that could feel 
 deeper sympathy for this wronged father than Stanhope 
 Burleigh ! But there was no language through which 
 he could make that sympathy known to his friend, 
 except the language of tears, and the two wept together. 
 
 The Captain at last continued. " My wife became 
 somewhat tranquil, after I had passed the entire night 
 by her bedside, and the next morning she begged me to 
 go in search of her lost Agnes. I came to New York, 
 with a list of all the places, so far as we knew them, 
 where Agnes was in the habit of visiting with this wo 
 man, but I got not the slightest information that was of 
 any service. I then laid the whole matter before the 
 Police, who, to my surprise, seemed to feel very little
 
 334 ANOTHER TOOL OP THE JESUITS. 
 
 interest in the affair. I then offered a reward of ten 
 thousand dollars, if they would procure ine information 
 where Agnes was, and I deposited abundant securities for 
 the payment of the sum. I thought it not best to 
 advertise in the papers. I then went to Philadelphia, to 
 Baltimore, to "Washington, to Georgetown, instituting 
 inquiries in the most efficient manner ; but all with no 
 result. I then returned, and went to Montreal and Que 
 bec, on the same errand ; and I have nearly given up all 
 hope of ever seeing Agnes again, although I have not 
 abandoned the search, nor will I, so help me Heaven, 
 as long as there is a Convent, or a Jesuit in the United 
 States." 
 
 " What could have been the woman's motive 1 " in 
 quired Burleigh, speaking for the first time. " It must 
 have been a strong one to have led any human being to 
 perpetrate so terrible an outrage as this, in return for 
 such kindness- as she had received." 
 
 " Her motives are now clear enough. She was a mere 
 tool of the Jesuits. Burleigh, during these dreadful 
 months, while I have been engaged in this fruitless 
 search, you know not what discoveries I have made 
 in regard to the power of the Jesuits in the United 
 States ; or the deep and damning crimes they are com 
 mitting. There is not a fortune in the country, upon 
 which they have not fixed their eye. There is not a
 
 THE FATHER'S SUFFERINGS. 335 
 
 beautiful, accomplished, or brilliant girl, to whom they 
 do not lay siege ; and if they cannot by the subtle modes 
 of persuasion, entice these girls from their homes, or by 
 offering inducements for their elegant education in Con 
 vents of the Sacred Heart, they are stolen, as my Agnes 
 was ; and when all these means fail, plans for their 
 seduction are laid and executed, and when they are 
 gained, the Jesuits receive them into their arms." 
 
 Burleigh's sympathy for his friend was fast giving way 
 to apprehensions of his own, of the most painful descrip 
 tion. His former joyous hopes for himself and Genevra, 
 were rapidly ebbing away ; but he kept the secret in 
 his own breast, and inquired how Agnes' mother had 
 borne up under the calamity. 
 
 " It will kill my wife," said the Captain, as his lips 
 quivered. " She recovered from the brain fever ; but 
 she has not risen from her bed now for more than two 
 months. She neither eats nor sleeps ; and she weeps 
 continually. Oh, Burleigh ! this mystery is worse than 
 death. If I had buried my child in the cold ground, I 
 could have submitted to the common fate of man ; but to 
 feel that she was seduced to fly from her father's house, 
 and that she is now dragging out existence in an accursed 
 Convent, with all the horrors that conscience and memory 
 can inflict, drives me almost wild j and sometimes I fear 
 I shall go mad."
 
 336 WHAT THE JESUITS ARE DOING. 
 
 Stanhope had no words that could give any consola 
 tion ; but he pressed Stewart's hand with all the earnest 
 ness of deep sympathy. He saw that the burdens of the 
 man that sat before him, were greater than he could 
 bear ; and he did not wish to add to them, by telling 
 him of his own anxieties respecting Genevra. 
 
 " Burleigh," exclaimed the Captain, rising with sudden 
 energy, " these things are going too far in this country ; 
 for, if I have lost my Agnes, thank God, my country yet 
 remains. These Jesuits are swarming all around us. 
 Their spies are in our houses. They overhear our con 
 versation. They know our affairs, as well, if not better, 
 than we know them ourselves ; and there is not a Con 
 fessional in the United States, where the priests cannot, 
 and do not, learn all they wish to know of what trans 
 pires in the private confidence of family circles. The 
 time has come when, in our large cities, it is next to im 
 possible to get an American servant, or even governess. 
 The Catholics are taking possession of the United States, 
 and the Catholics are nearly all under the control of 
 these infernal Jesuits. No means are left untried to win, 
 persuade, alarm, seduce, and ruin, if thereby the interests 
 of the Society of Jesus, in the United States, can be pro 
 moted. Our servant girls and maids, teach our little 
 ones to cross themselves, and kiss the pictures of the 
 Virgin. When they go out to walk with our children,
 
 HOW OUR CHILDREN ARE SEDUCED. 337 
 
 they take them to Catholic Churches to hear the music, 
 and very frequently have them secretly baptized ; in one 
 distinguished family in Philadelphia four children were 
 thus treated, and their parents did not discover it for 
 some time. They go to places where fine ladies give 
 them beautiful pictures, and little medals blessed by the 
 Pope, and crosses, and books. They begin by breathing 
 these stories into the ears of our children while they are 
 in the nursery. It ends in their being sent to Convents 
 of the Sacred Heart, to complete their education ; and 
 they there turn out Catholics, and abandon the faith of 
 their parents, or go into nunneries to end their days. A 
 large proportion of teachers in public schools, are open or 
 secret Catholics ; and they are now asking us to make 
 special appropriations of public money, for the establish 
 ment of schools for the education of Catholic children, 
 through the State. It is the burned child, Burleigh, that 
 dreads the fire ; and if I had not met with a misfortune 
 like this, I should never have thought there was any 
 truth in the stories I have heard in reference to the 
 Jesuits." 
 
 If Stewart could have looked into Burleigh's heart, he 
 would have found a response to all this, scarcely less 
 earnest than the conviction which dictated it. 
 
 " I, too, know something of the intrigues of the Jesuits, 
 and of the schemes they are plotting for creating a 
 
 15
 
 338 A MONARCHY HERE AND THE KING AT ROME. 
 
 spiritual monarchy here, with a King at Rome. But 
 Captain, let us meet oftener hereafter. I do not 
 wonder that such a society as ' The Order of United 
 Americans' exists in this country. It is, rather, a matter 
 of surprise to me, that instead of growing strong enough 
 in New York and Philadelphia, to elect a Mayor, they 
 should not have grown strong enough to control every 
 election in every State. If the facts which you and I 
 know, in regard to the deadly influence of Papacy and 
 Jesuitism, were known to all our countrymen, we should 
 be warned in time, and escape the danger. We let the 
 counsels of Washington on this subject go unheeded. It 
 has become the fashion to court the foreign vote ; nor is 
 it considered disgraceful, even in a candidate for the 
 Presidential office, to harangue a mob of foreign Catholics 
 from the steps of a State House or City Hall, and tell 
 them that their foreign brogue sounds sweet. The 
 Catholic vote on every great election, national or muni 
 cipal, turns the scale ; and he who will court it the most 
 obsequiously, is surest of success." 
 
 "And how long shall all this last?" responded the 
 Captain, as he sullenly gnashed his teeth. 
 
 " We shall see. To-morrow I leave for the South. I 
 have yet to make the daughter of Vincenzi [whom you 
 remember as one of our passengers] my bride. You have 
 still a chance of discovering your Agnes. If we succeed,
 
 DOES AMERICA BELONG TO THE AMERICANS ? 339 
 
 God be praised ; but, succeed or fail, Stewart, we will 
 meet soon, and we will test the question," said Burleigh, 
 as the fire shot from his eyes, " whether or not our coun 
 try belongs to us and our countrymen."
 
 340 THE WEARIED BIRD. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 AGNES STEWART. 
 
 THE north windows of the Convent of the Sacred Heart 
 at Claremont, commanded a wide sweep of landscape, far 
 up the valley of the Hudson. That Convent had been 
 the retreat of Agnes Stewart, from the day she had left 
 her father's house. Eight months of that Convent life, 
 had dragged away, and they had been to her months of 
 loneliness, humiliation, and regrets. But all her regrets 
 were unavailing ; for having " with her own free will and 
 consent," once passed those gates, which shut her out 
 from the bright world for ever, whom could she blame but 
 herself? 
 
 For a while, she reposed in that Convent, like the tem 
 pest-driven dove, which clings to the first branch that 
 gives rest to its weary wings. But when the new-born 
 fervor of her first zeal had subsided, and the stormy sea 
 of her heart had grown calm, reason once more resumed 
 its throne and reflection, for the first time in her life,
 
 AGNES STEWART AT CLAREMONT. 341 
 
 became terrible. She tried to fly from it. The past, 
 with its bright images of beauty, came back with vivid 
 ness, to her memory as a far off garden-vale sleeping 
 in the sunshine, flashes on the vision of one who gazes 
 from a bold mountain-top, around which a bleak storm 
 is sweeping. 
 
 She had waked from the dream the enchantment had 
 vanished like a spell. Instead of gilded halls filled with 
 music, and delicious bowers, fragrant with the perfume of 
 exotic flowers where the fairest and most lovely daugh 
 ters of earth had gone to hold communion only with the 
 Holy Virgin, and prepare to become brides of Christ 
 she found herself shut up within narrow corridors, or hid 
 away in the small and lonely room of a nun. She had 
 not been permitted to go even into the garden, except 
 after dark ; nor then, unless accompanied by the Abbess, 
 or one of the Sisters ; while she had only now and then 
 caught a glimpse of the school pupils, as they played 
 about the grounds, or heard their light laugh from the 
 parlors below. She was only allowed to attend the very 
 early morning mass in the Chapel ; and she often received 
 a message from Mother Ursula, that she preferred to have 
 her remain in her room. 
 
 Agnes understood how necessary it was that she should, 
 for a time, remain unknown, even to most of the inmates 
 of the place, for she knew her affectionate parents would
 
 342 AGNES AT CLARE MONT. 
 
 make every effort to discover her retreat. But she little 
 surmised that her father had been within those very- 
 walls, and that but few days elapsed without his visiting 
 the vicinity. 
 
 Deprived of the pure air of her breezy highland home, 
 the weary walking up and down the gloomy corridors, 
 the mournful, care-worn faces of the Nuns, who seldom 
 smiled, and never conversed with her, except during 
 those melancholy evening walks in the garden and then 
 always low and sadly, of their dead or absent friends 
 began to send a chill to the once warm gushing fountains 
 of her heart. Every one Avas kind to her but it was 
 not the kindness of home. She heard sweet voices but 
 they were not the voices of those she had heard from her 
 childhood. Before she slept, she felt the kiss of the 
 Mother Superior on her cheek, but it was not the 
 warm, dewy kiss of the mother who had rocked her 
 infancy, and whose heart was now broken. Day by day, 
 she became more sad. The blossoms fell from her 
 cheeks; her pride no longer sustained her; and often, 
 in a paroxysm of suffering, she burst into tears. 
 
 The Lady Abbess watched her with solicitude, and 
 kind interest. She knew how deep the canker-worm was 
 eating at her heart. She had seen such cases before, and 
 it had been the height of her ambition to emulate that 
 divine gift of Loyola "Giving ease to troubled con-
 
 APPREHENSIONS OF THE ABBESS. 343 
 
 sciences." She knew how much depended on the success 
 of the hazardous part she had played, of seducing Agnes 
 Stewart from the endearments of her home-, to bury her 
 self in a Convent. She was not a woman to be satisfied 
 with mere success she despised common-place she 
 would have no doubtful reports spread of her victories. 
 Every winged courier from the camp, should bear the 
 same message no enemy must escape from the field. 
 
 " And now, least of all," she exclaimed, as late at 
 night she walked her private room, with a nervous and 
 impatient tread, " when my General is in America, can I 
 afford to dim the lustre of my well-earned fame, by the 
 miscarriage of this little affair, which is so entirely my 
 own, that I cannot escape the disgrace of failure, as I 
 would certainly allow no man or woman to steal from me 
 the honor of success." She paused a moment. " I can 
 detect no fault in Mrs. Eglington, her management 
 from the beginning was perfect. Have we both, then, 
 mistaken the character and inclination of Agnes ? Was 
 the work done too quick ? We were neither of us impa 
 tient, were we ? There must be something peculiar in 
 this girl's disposition, which has thus far eluded our 
 perception. She seems insensible to those fasicnations 
 of religion which first won her ; and the severest penance 
 only aggravates her remorse. What would I not give 
 if she had never come to Claremont !"
 
 344 SAVE ME, MOTHER. 
 
 The Lady Superior was startled by the sound of slid 
 ing feet, and a shriek at the door. She flew to open it, 
 and Agnes, in her night-dress, rushed into the chamber, 
 and fell at her feet. 
 
 " Save me, mother ! Oh ! save me !" 
 
 " Save you, my daughter," she exclaimed in terror, 
 " from what ? From whom 1" And she raised the 
 trembling girl, and folded her to her heart. " Be calm, 
 my child ; what is it ]" 
 
 " Oh ! mother." gasped Agnes. " It is all here 
 here ! " as she struck her hands to her temples in the 
 wildest agony. " I am mad I am mad ! Oh, God ! 
 My poor, poor mother !" 
 
 All Agnes' strength had given way; and the Lady 
 Superior bore her to the sofa, where she laid her, as life 
 less, and almost as cold as marble. She rang the bell, 
 and then hurrying back to her side, she exclaimed, 
 
 " Good Heavens ! can she be dead ? And yet that 
 were better than madness, for in her ravings she would 
 betray us." 
 
 It was hardly a minute but to the Abbess it seemed 
 an hour before her femme de cJtamlre appeared. Re 
 storatives were at once applied, and when Agnes re 
 covered her consciousness, she was taken to the couch 
 of the Abbess in the adjoining room. 
 
 She was vigilantly watched by the maid, and one of
 
 HUBERT GOES TO CLAKEMONT. 345 
 
 the servants, and at short intervals the mistress of the 
 Convent entered the bed-chamber, to minister her ten- 
 derest and most delicate alleviations to the warm heart 
 now breaking to the fine mind now shattered for ever ! 
 
 It was long past midnight, but the Lady Superior had 
 not thought of sleep she could as soon have slept if 
 the Convent had been on fire. 
 
 The next morning, just after the departure of Jaudan 
 and his victims for the South, Hubert received a note 
 from Claremont, begging him to hasten to the Convent. 
 When he arrived, he found the Abbess haggard and 
 wretched from that night of suffering. She was a woman 
 of noble sentiments and affectionate heart ; but having 
 taken upon herself the terrible vows of the Order, the 
 voice of conscience, and every natural feeling that wells 
 up from the human soul, all had to be stifled, for they 
 interfered with the progress of the ambitious disciples of 
 Loyola. 
 
 As Hubert closed the door of the little cabinet of the 
 Abbess, she rose to meet him ; but she was too exhausted 
 to stand, and she sank back into her seat again ; and 
 while she held out her hand to the visitor, woman's 
 tears, which she could not repress, rolled down her 
 cheeks. 
 
 " Forgive me, brother," she exclaimed, " but this trial 
 is too much for me. It is of Agnes Stewart I wish to
 
 346 THE LADY ABBESS. 
 
 speak." Hubert looked calm and genial, and pressing 
 her hand, said kindly : 
 
 " My dear sister, do not be troubled. Her father has 
 given up all idea of her being here ; and if she is refrac 
 tory, we must send her to some one of our Abbesses who 
 is not quite so tender-hearted as yourself." 
 
 " Oh ! she is not refractory she is as gentle as a dove, 
 and, I believe, a sincere Catholic. She is an intellectual 
 and imaginative girl, full of spiritualism and romance ; 
 and the ideal and poetic nature of our religion has 
 inflamed her fancy and penetrated her heart ; and had 
 we placed her elsewhere if, for instance, we had sent 
 her to a Convent in Italy, where gorgeous Chapels, 
 imposing ceremonies, and all the associations are beauti 
 ful and soothing, she would have become a fanatic in our 
 cause. But here, excluded almost from the light of day, 
 deprived of air and sufficient exercise, suffering constant 
 apprehensions of being discovered, with, I believe, a 
 gnawing grief, and longing for the home of her childhood, 
 and the embrace of her mother, she is pining away. 
 Last night she had a paroxysm of grief, that seemed to 
 me like approaching madness. Something must be done 
 and done immediately. What shall it be ? I have 
 thought, until my poor brain is tortured. Can we not 
 restore her to her family ? It is my wish, if the thing is 
 possible."
 
 THE TYRANNY OF JESUITS. 347 
 
 "No, that is impossible," answered Hubert, with 
 decisive emphasis ; " it would be the ruin of this House. 
 You would lose every one of your Protestant pupils in a 
 week, and the place itself would be mobbed. Secresy 
 and supreme caution are imperativo on us in every 
 country : but here, where we are hated just in proportion 
 as we are known, secresy and supreme caution are the 
 very conditions of our existence." 
 
 " But, brother, if we take her back to her home, when 
 she has not even requested it, and assign as the reason 
 our anxiety for her health disclaiming a desire, or even 
 a willingness, to have any one, "however gifted in quali 
 ties or sincere and devout in faith, remain with us at the 
 expense of cheerfulness and happiness should we not 
 win the hearts of her relatives ; or, at all events escape 
 their indignation ?" 
 
 " Sister, I am amazed to hear you speak in this way. 
 I thought you were fully aware of the excitement which 
 the disappearance of Agnes had caused ; that it is every 
 where laid to us ; and that the Company of Jesus, as well 
 as the entire body of the Holy Church, is suffering, at 
 this moment, under the odium which every ill-managed 
 or unsuccessful affair of this kind is sure to bring upon 
 us. It is most unfortunate ! The girl promised so well 
 in the beginning, I thought we should find in her a most 
 useful ally. Her family is highly respectable, with a
 
 348 AGNES ON HER COUCH. 
 
 large circle of acquaintance ; and once permanently 
 established among us the scandal of the thing having 
 blown over, and her friends and the public distinctly 
 understanding that she had chosen this course for herself, 
 without persuasion from others she would have brought 
 us pupils, and made us proselytes from many of the best 
 heretic families in New York. But we have gone too far 
 to retreat ; nor must you allow yourself to be depressed 
 by the miscarriage of this affair. We cannot expect all 
 our plans to succeed, nor is this, perhaps, so serious a 
 failure after all. But cannot I see the girl ? I can then 
 better judge how we are to proceed." 
 
 " She appears very quiet this morning," replied the 
 Abbess, " although she has not slept through the night. 
 I am afraid she is too tranquil she looks vacantly. Oh, 
 brother ! I have a dreadful fear," she continued and her 
 lips quivered as she held her hand upon the lock, and 
 opened the door into her own sleeping-room. 
 
 Agnes was lying on the couch. The flushed cheeks 
 and swollen eyelids of the preceding night, had given 
 way to a death-like paleness ; and in her beautiful eyes 
 a meaningless expression had taken the place of their 
 sunny intellectual light. She did not move as they ap 
 proached ; and when the Abbess addressed her, she smiled 
 faintly, and languidly shook her head, without reply 
 ing. Hubert laid his hand upon her brow, and with a
 
 THE DREAM OF THE NUN. 349 
 
 kind, paternal voice said, " The Virgin bless thee, my 
 daughter, and restore thee speedily to health. Can we 
 do anything for thy welfare this morning ? " 
 
 " My dear mother is coming this morning," said Agnes, 
 rising on her arm. " She told me so last night, and I said 
 I would be ready. My father has come home from sea, 
 and we shall all be so happy ! I shall go now. I hear 
 the carriage ! " 
 
 The Abbess trembled with terror ; but she seated her 
 self on the bed, and lightly detained the poor girl, who 
 was already getting up. 
 
 " Yes, my dear, presently ; but you must be dressed 
 first. You are too early yet, my daughter," she said 
 soothingly. " I am sure the carriage has not yet come." 
 
 " Oh, Madam ! " cried Agnes with an hysterical laugh, 
 " what a foolish dream I had ! I thought I had left my 
 dear mother, and gone to live in a Convent, and never 
 go back to her and it seemed to me I was away a great 
 many months, and thought I used to wake up in the 
 night, and think of our dear Cresthome ; and I would 
 see my mother weeping and praying beside her bed, and 
 my dear father away at sea, and she was lonely and 
 unhappy. Oh ! " she continued as she turned up a face 
 full of gratitude to Heaven " Oh, how glad I am I was 
 not so wicked ; that it was only a dream ! Yes, she is 
 coming for me," and then turning to Hubert, whom she
 
 350 THE SPIRIT OF JESUITISM. 
 
 now discovered for the first time, slie exclaimed, " Who 
 is that ? Send him away." 
 
 The Abbess was about to speak, but Hubert lifted his 
 hand and motioned to retire. They withdrew to the 
 Cabinet, when he said to the Abbess, with a subdued but 
 earnest voiee " This is most lamentable. I fear her 
 mind is irrecoverably destroyed ; but, thank God, she is 
 not a raving maniac." 
 
 " Oh, brother ! " exclaimed the Abbess in tears, " do 
 not say so. Can we not restore this poor lamb ? I could 
 endure any shame to save her " and for a moment she 
 flew back to Agnes' couch, and pressed the cheek of the 
 passive girl to her lips. 
 
 " Sister," said Hubert, after she had returned, " you 
 forget our duty to the Company of Jesus, when you 
 speak thus. What we may feel, is of no consequence 
 whatever. When you took your solemn vows you gave 
 yourself away. You are no longer your own. Be ab 
 solved for this heinous sin against the Virgin, who saw 
 without a murmur, her Divine Son nailed to the Cross, 
 and never again incur her holy displeasure, by interpos 
 ing your will or feelings, between her, and the triumph 
 of her beloved Company of Jesus." 
 
 A cold chill went over her frame, and those pure and 
 generous impulses that had once more leaped to her 
 veins with every pulsation, cowered back to some dark
 
 WHERE SHALL AGNES GO? 351 
 
 
 
 corner of her heart, under the terrible chastisement of 
 her Jesuit Master. 
 
 Hubert continued, " This poor child endangers our 
 cause ; and if suffered to remain here, she will soon be 
 come frantic, and it will be impossible to remove her 
 without giving wind to new rumors, and inflaming 
 against us new odium. Fortunately for us, she imagines 
 her mother is coming for her. Under this delusion, she 
 will go wherever we wish to take her. I think, there 
 fore, that to-night, after the household have all retired, 
 I will send here the trusty Patrick, with a close 
 carriage, and a pair of powerful horses. You can 
 have Agnes prepared, and it will be best for our 
 French sister from Montreal to accompany her on the 
 journey." 
 
 " But where will you send her, brother ? What is to 
 be done with her 1 She must be treated with ten 
 derness." 
 
 " Tush, tush, my friend," replied Hubert, " you are 
 getting fanciful. She shall be well taken care of; and, 
 of course, I shall send her to Montreal, where we have 
 had to send so many of the incorrigible and almost in 
 variably with such felicitous results." 
 
 Again the Abbess led the way to the sleeping-room, 
 followed by Hubert. Taking Agnes' hand, and with a 
 tone of great cheerfulness, she spoke to her many kind
 
 352 THE EXPATRIATION. 
 
 words, and closed by telling her that the carriage would 
 come before long. 
 
 Agnes gazed at the speaker, without comprehending 
 what she said ; the word carriage was the only sound 
 that struck familiarly upon the unfortunate girl's intelli 
 gence. With a pleased look, she slightly nodded to 
 Hubert. A calm, dreamy, confiding glow suffused her 
 pallid face as she gazed upon the Jesuit, who, she be 
 lieved, was about to take her back to Cresthome ; but 
 Cresthome, poor Agnes Stewart never was to see again. 
 
 Hubert returned to town. After administering to 
 
 Agnes a powerful opiate, the Lady Superior seated her 
 self for the day, by the side of the patient and hopeful 
 girl, who did not doubt that her mother would soon be 
 there. 
 
 Not long after midnight, Agnes, with a smiling cheek, 
 and the docility of an infant, was placed in the carriage 
 by the tender hands of the weeping Abbess, and the 
 sister who was to be her companion, and a few nights 
 of rapid travelling took her to Montreal ; far, far away, 
 not only from her friends, but even from her native 
 land. 
 
 She remained a hopeless imbecile : sometimes believing 
 for days, that she was in her father's house, a happy, 
 loving girl ; at other times she was a melancholy, de 
 jected creature but always kind, good, and helpful in
 
 THE UNKNOWN GRAVE. 353 
 
 the light labors assigned her. And so she lived the few 
 remaining months of that year of delusion and trouble, 
 till the great expiation had been made, and she was, by 
 those who minister to the afflicted children of earth, 
 taken to that bright Land, where all the wronged, the 
 pure, and the gentle, are gathered home at last. 
 
 The Jesuits had not only seduced her soul, but they 
 had stolen away her ashes and those at Cresthome 
 " knew not where they had laid them."
 
 354 INEZ AND GENEVRA ON THE JOURNEY. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 THE JOURNEY. 
 
 " DEAR Genevra," said Inez, as they were retiring, the 
 night of their arrival in Philadelphia, " did you see Mr. 
 Burleigh as the carriage drove on to the boat this morn- 
 ing?" 
 
 "Was he there ? " cried Genevra, as the beautiful color 
 rose to her cheek. " Oh, I am very sorry I did not see 
 him ; but I was so afraid my poor father would take cold, 
 or be nervous, in crossing the ferry, that I did not even 
 look from the carriage ; though I confess I hoped we 
 might see Stanhope somewhere, before we left." 
 
 " Never fear ; he is a true knight, and will faithfully 
 keep sentinel over your fortunes. But how is your little 
 heart to-night ? Has it pained you much since morn- 
 ing?" 
 
 " Not a great deal ; but, Inez, I am afraid I shall 
 never be free from this pain, until my father is well, or 
 we are happy."
 
 WILL YOU LEAVE THE NEW-MADE GRAVE? 355 
 
 " My dear friend," said Inez gently, " you must not 
 encourage yourself with the idea that your father will 
 ever be well again. This sudden revival of strength and 
 spirits, is only the calm before the storm. I do not 
 wish to afflict you, my love, but I am sure it is so ; for I 
 heard Padre O'Sullivan say it but yesterday, and you 
 know that he is as good a physician as he is Jesuit." 
 
 " Oh ! then, why did they bring my father away 
 from home ? Father O'Sullivan told me he thought it 
 would prolong his life." 
 
 " Ah, Genevra ! " said Inez, shaking her head, " your 
 father is likely to drop off at any moment and then you 
 will have a terrible struggle to pass through. If neces 
 sary, would you leave the unburied body of your 
 father to fly with Stanhope ] " 
 
 Genevra trembled in every limb, and the tears gushed 
 from her eyes. 
 
 " Oh, Inez, I could not do it. I should never forgive 
 myself ! What can you mean ? " 
 
 " My sweet sister ! We are going to Johnstown, near 
 the Convent. This plan, I am sure, has been fixed on to 
 get you within its walls without any noise, as soon as 
 your father dies." 
 
 Genevra lifted her hands in amazement and horror. 
 
 " The moment he is no more, you may be enticed by 
 some stratagem, and lose your liberty, and I wish to
 
 356 BE SILENT AND CAUTIOUS. 
 
 caution you now, not to leave the house, unless I go 
 with you." 
 
 " But if I were forced into a Convent, could not you 
 or Stanhope rescue me 1 I have heard that persons can 
 be taken by law from such places, if they are unwilling 
 to stay." 
 
 "Yes, Genevra, the law says so; but do you not 
 know that when the Jesuits wish to conceal a person, 
 that person can never be found ? " 
 
 " Oh ! what am I to do ! What shall I do ! I will 
 go on my knees to my father, and implore him to save 
 me." 
 
 "Have you not already? Has he not thrust you 
 coldly away, and left you in the guardianship of Jaudan 1 
 And would he now heed your supplications ? Does he 
 not intend that you shall enter a Couvent, as soon as he 
 is gone ? No, Genevra one way only is left. Be silent 
 and cautious. Let not Jaudan or O'Sullivan suspect 
 that Ave know anything of their wiles. And above all, 
 do not leave the house where we may be lodged, under 
 any pretext, without first informing me. Mr. Burleigh 
 will not be far distant, and when the right moment 
 comes, I will bring him to the spot, and in his presence, 
 and that of Jaudan, I will expose the plot, and Stanhope 
 shall bear you away in triumph." 
 
 Genevra had fallen into deep and painful forebodings.
 
 NO FEAR OP JAUDAN NOW. 357 
 
 Starting, at last, she said : " Inez, are you not a Catho 
 lic ? and were you not brought up under the instruction 
 of Jaudan ? Why is it that you take such an interest in 
 me ? How dare you attempt to thwart the designs of 
 the General ? Do you not dread his vengeance ?" 
 
 " I did fear him once ; but I fear him no longer. 
 When you are once free, I break every bond that binds 
 me to him. I shall return to Italy, to the arms of my 
 mother, to console her for the unhappiness of her life." 
 
 " Your mother !" exclaimed Genevra, with amazement. 
 " I thought you did not know your mother, or even if 
 you had one." 
 
 " I have learned it all lately. It is a sad story too 
 sad for you to hear now. It is enough that she was the 
 victim of Jaudan ; and while I have the power to save 
 you, you shall not fall by the same hands." 
 
 " But, dear Inez, why will you not stay with me and 
 Stanhope ? I am sure we shall both love you, and make 
 you happy." 
 
 Inez's lips trembled, and she turned her head, to hide 
 the tears which filled her eyes. 
 
 " I am sure you would, my darling Genevra ; and yet, 
 my first duty is to go to my mother. She has, probably, 
 but a few months to live, and she shall pass them in the 
 arms of her daughter. My soul wings itself, at the 
 thought of her embrace. Yes yes, I must I must go.
 
 353 ARRIVAL AT JOHNSTOWN. 
 
 But let us to bed now, for we have a long ride before us 
 to-morrow." 
 
 " But, Inez oh ! Inez ! how happy I feel, even in the 
 midst of my misery, that you are with me ! I believe 
 that you will save me from Jaudan, and the still more 
 dreaded Convent. I am such a coward ! Oh, you are a 
 brave and noble girl," said Genevra, as she embraced her 
 with all the affection of her confiding and tender nature. 
 
 The next morning the travellers continued their 
 journey to the South. On the arrival of the party 
 at Johnstown, they drove to the house of a Catholic 
 lady, who seemed quite prepared to meet them, and 
 greeted the young girls with all the kindness of a mother. 
 
 The mansion was large, and situated upon a command 
 ing height, overlooking a wide and beautiful country. 
 On one side a broad champaign region swept, with 
 long reaches, to the banks of the blue Potomac on the 
 other, rose the towers, monuments, and white gleaming 
 palaces of a not far distant City. 
 
 As Genevra and Inez stood at the window, overlooking 
 the scene 
 
 " Look, Inez," said Genevra, pointing with her finger, 
 " do you see that low, straggling pile of buildings yonder, 
 on the declivity of the hill 1 that is the Convent of the
 
 ANOTHER CONVENT OF THE SACRED HEART. 359 
 
 Sacred Heart, my future home, if Padre Jaudan lias 
 his way." 
 
 " Oh, Genevra ! is it possible that ugly building can 
 be a Convent ? It looks to me more like soldiers' 
 barracks. How dismal it must be inside !" 
 
 " All Convents are dismal, inside and out, I think," 
 said Genevra, smiling ; " but I never was in this, and can 
 tell you nothing about it." 
 
 " Not our Convents in Italy, my dear they are pic 
 turesque and grand old buildings. Their sites are 
 chosen to command the most romantic views. You for 
 get our beautiful gardens the tall, melancholy cypresses 
 that wave and whisper along the silent walls such tender 
 melody. Yes, Genevra, there may be, and there is, 
 unhappiness in those places ; but there is taste, senti 
 ment, and poetry connected with them ; for we cultivate 
 the love of the beautiful, both in Art and Nature. But 
 this place looks the picture of desolation, with not a 
 green tree to cheer the eyes of the weary nun. I should 
 infinitely prefer the Convent at Claremont. But I see 
 that this would better suit the purposes of Jaudan, for it 
 is probably less visited." 
 
 " Oh, Inez !" said Genevra, embracing her, "have you 
 still the courage to brave that man ? Does not your 
 resolution begin to waver ?" 
 
 " Never fear, my pet ; my resolution gathers strength
 
 360 THE \OBLE IXEZ. 
 
 every hour ; I even begin to long for the conflict to 
 measure my strength with his : and I hope he will find 
 that the little pebble of truth from the brook, will slay 
 the giant in his armor of steel." 
 
 " You are a brave, noble girl, Inez. I wish I had half 
 your courage." 
 
 " You would if you had half my physique ; but you 
 are a delicate little flower, and shrink from the rude 
 blasts of sorrow that have blown so long upon your 
 gentle head. Good night."
 
 THE FATHER AND DAUGHTER MEET. 361 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 THE FATHER. 
 
 VIXCENZI seemed to bear the journey better than Gene- 
 vra anticipated; but the next morning, when she de 
 scended to his room, she found him still in his bed, and 
 he seemed feverish and oppressed for breath. 
 
 " Oh, my dear father," she said, anxiously, " you are 
 not so well this morning. I am afraid this journey has 
 been too much for you. You did not sleep well last 
 night ?" 
 
 " But little, my dear. I hope it is only fatigue ; yet I 
 feel a painful and unusual oppression at my breast." 
 
 She seated herself by the side of her father's couch, 
 and a sorrowful foreboding, which she had not felt before, 
 came over her spirits. All that Inez had said to her, 
 the night of their arrival in Philadelphia, came to her 
 remembrance ; and she breathed a prayer that God would 
 spare his life yet longer, and open his eyes to the iniquity 
 of his deceivers. 
 
 16
 
 362 VIXCENZI AND GEiVEVRA ALO\ 7 E. 
 
 Soon after, 0' Sullivan came into the room, and Gene- 
 vra expressed her fears for her father. The Confessor 
 felt of his pulse, and made some inquiries of the sick man. 
 
 " It is only fatigue, Mademoiselle," he said. " I shall 
 administer to him some little remedies, and he will be quite 
 relieved by evening. He only requires rest and sleep." 
 
 Genevra sat by her father's bed through the long day. 
 He seemed to sleep so peacefully, that she often bent her 
 ear to listen if he still breathed. 
 
 Jaudan and O'Sullivan came and went noiselessly and 
 restlessly, they often looked significantly at each other. 
 
 Towards evening, Vincenzi opened his heavy eyes, and 
 said faintly 
 
 " Genevra, is it you, my child ?" 
 
 " It is, my dear father. Do you feel better ?" 
 
 " Not much. Where are we, Genevra ? I do not 
 know this place ; and I have dreamed a strange 
 dream." 
 
 " Do you not remember, Papa, that we are no longer 
 in New York ? We are in Johnstown. We came last 
 night, and you have slept all day. You were not so 
 well this morning." 
 
 " Oh ! I remember now. I had a sweet dream, Gene 
 vra. Where are the good fathers ?" he continued, look 
 ing timidly around, " are they not here ?" 
 
 " No, Papa ; they have just gone down to tea. Will
 
 A VISION OF THE FUTURE. 363 
 
 you not have some ? I think it would revive you ;" and 
 she rose to ring the bell. 
 
 " No, no ; not now," he said, clinging to her dress. " I 
 will wait till Father 0' Sullivan returns. We may never 
 be alone again, and I have something I wish to say to 
 you, my child." 
 
 " Oh ! my father, do not speak of leaving me. I 
 cannot bear it," she said weeping. 
 
 " Listen to me. I have had many conflicting thoughts 
 lately. I have felt that I may have erred blindly 
 erred through my whole life. While I slept, I saw 
 your mother. She seemed to be in a glorious place 
 too bright and glorious to describe. She looked like a 
 blessed spirit and she beckoned me to come to her. I 
 did, trembling, and fell at her feet. She raised me ; she 
 kissed me on the forehead, and said, ' My husband, where 
 is our child? Is she happy?' Oh! Genevra, what a 
 terrible moment ! I would have fallen to my knees again, 
 for I knew you were not happy, and I had no word to 
 reply. ' Fear not,' she said, ' redeem the past while you 
 yet have time. Forgive, as you hope to be forgiven, and 
 we shall meet again,' and with a radiant, smiling face she 
 melted away." 
 
 Genevra was too overcome to speak, but she pressed 
 his hand in silence. 
 
 " I feel that it is a warning," he continued ; " her words
 
 364 THE FATHER TRIUMPHS. 
 
 were but the echo of my own thoughts for many weeks. 
 These thoughts I spoke of to Padre Jaudan. I confessed 
 them to Father O'Sullivan ; but they reproved my weak 
 ness, and counted it a sin. Oh ! my child, you are good 
 and pure, decide for me ; shall I disobey my spiritual 
 Fathers, who will refuse absolution to my soul if I thus 
 dare to defy their authority ?" 
 
 " My father, my father," cried Genevra, " trust in our 
 Heavenly Father. He alone has the power to forgive 
 sin. Cast away this false creed which ensnares your 
 soul believe that my mother is an angel in Heaven. 
 Forget the past, and rejoice in the hope of meeting her 
 in that happy world, where you saw her. Struggle no 
 longer with these fears. These priests are but sinful, 
 erring creatures like you and me look to the Saviour as 
 the only hope of your soul and if you now feel that 
 you have wronged my mother, seek not the pardon of 
 man, but of God." 
 
 " I dare not ! I dare not !" he cried. " "Who shall 
 absolve me in my dying hour 1 They will refuse mass 
 for my soul ! and I jhau go down to perdition with their 
 curse on my head. But, Genevra, I can I will save 
 you. You shall worship God in your own way. I can 
 not die, and leave you persecuted and tormented as your 
 poor mother was. I will at least atone to her, in this 
 manner, for the wrong I did her, and reward you for
 
 GENEVRA FREE AT LAST. 365 
 
 your devoted affection. Where is Mr. Burleigh ? Do 
 you still love him, my child ?" 
 
 " I do, my father next to you, above all the 
 world." 
 
 " Be it so, my child. When I am gone, become his 
 wife ; and God grant you may be happier than your poor 
 parents were." 
 
 A new and beautiful light went streaming into the 
 recesses of Genevra's desolate heart ! For a moment, all 
 the dark shadows that had gathered so thickly over her 
 spirit, melted away, and one glorious burst of sunshine 
 flooded her life. 
 
 " But, my dear father," she inquired, with anxiety, 
 " have you not made Padre Jaudan my guardian ? and 
 will he ever consent to this ?" 
 
 " It will displease him, I have no doubt ; but I am 
 
 
 prepared for his reproaches. I shall destroy my Will, 
 
 and make another. If I have not time for that, the old 
 Will once gone, by the laws of the country, you are my 
 heir, and free to do as your own heart dictates." 
 
 The last fetter was struck from the chained child the 
 last sorrow had left her heart for ever ! She was in a new 
 world ! The image of her mother in Heaven, had shone 
 out from the Land of peace and song ! The hard heart 
 had melted the scales had fallen from the blinded eyes 
 a black spot on the fair bosom of the earth had become
 
 366 THE ANGEL FACE. 
 
 white the Jesuits were foiled and Genevra was 
 saved ! 
 
 Tears of gratitude and exultation streamed down her 
 cheeks, and she embraced her father with a feeling she 
 had never known before. 
 
 " To part with you now, Father," she exclaimed, 
 " after Heaven has given you back to me, will be harder 
 than ever. I cannot ! cannot ! Live ! Oh live, for us 
 to bless, and comfort each other." 
 
 Calmly as Vincenzi seemed to have spoken, he had 
 passed through a terrific struggle. Far away in the dark 
 chambers of his soul, he had met and grappled with those 
 hideous, demoniac spirits, which had so long held their 
 sway of terror over the deluded victim. The near 
 approach of death the touching and strange love of his 
 daughter the mysterioug sight of that angel face, beam 
 ing on him from the Happy Land the long-stifled voice 
 of God in his soul ; and the melting of the ice-chains 
 that had so long bound his heart gave him the all but 
 superhuman power, in that dreadful moment, to achieve 
 the great victory. 
 
 The struggle was over, and the exhausted man wept 
 like a child. His little strength had given way. Again 
 and again he kissed his daughter " God bless you, Ge 
 nevra ! God bless you !" 
 
 Slowly, his hold upon her hand relaxed his eyelids
 
 "MY WILL!" "MY WILL!" 367 
 
 closed heavily he gasped for breath and in the deepen 
 ing shadows of twilight, Genevra saw an ashy paleness 
 overspread his face. 
 
 She flew to the bell, and rang it violently ; and in her 
 terror screamed aloud. 
 
 Jaudan and O'Sullivan were there in a moment, and 
 holding over the bed the candle he had brought, the 
 General said hurriedly : 
 
 " O'Sullivan, there is not a moment to lose ! Our poor 
 brother must receive the last rites of the Church quick 
 now, or you will be too late !" 
 
 Genevra, pale, trembling, and weeping, was supporting 
 her father's head upon her arm, as she wiped the large 
 drops of agony from his forehead. His breath came with 
 spasmodic effort. He had opened his eyes, as Jaudan 
 held the candle to his face. The General had stood by 
 death-beds enough, to read infallibly the lines which the 
 King of Terrors pencils upon the countenances of the 
 dying. Vincenzi fixed his gaze anxiously upon the 
 Jesuit. Jaudan bent over the suffering man, who drew 
 him nearer, and almost inaudibly said: 
 
 " My Will ! My Will ! Bring me my Will ! I must 
 save my daughter !" 
 
 Jaudan drew himself away quickly : 
 
 " You have no time to think of Wills now ! Think 
 only of the world you are just entering."
 
 368 THE JESUITS COME. 
 
 " Oh, Father !" exclaimed Vincenzi, with a cry 
 which never comes, except from the departing " bring 
 my Will! Oh, bring my Will Genevra, fly for it! 
 Inez ! where is Inez ] Will no one bring me the 
 Will ?" 
 
 " Where is it, father ]" 
 
 " I will attend to that, Genevra" said Jaudan, as he 
 gently moved her away from the pillow " for a moment, 
 at least, our business is with God." 
 
 O'Sullivan was again by the bedside, and they pre 
 pared to administer extreme unction to the departing 
 soul of Vincenzi. But he forgot all else in the frantic 
 desire do save his daughter ; and so terrible was his 
 agony, that Jaudan motioned O'Sullivan from the bed 
 side. 
 
 " Hasten, Genevra," he said, giving her the key to his 
 room " find Inez, and tell her to bring the black Cas 
 ket ! " 
 
 Genevra flew from the chamber ! Inez was not in her 
 room ! She went to her own she was not there ! She 
 sprang down the stairway. She was coming from the 
 garden. 
 
 " Fly now, Inez, and we are saved ! The casket ! the 
 casket ! " 
 
 Outstripping Genevra, she sprang to the door 
 opened it in an instant found the casket, and a mo-
 
 TOO LATE ! 369 
 
 merit later, it was in the hands of Jaudan. It opened 
 by touching a spring. 
 
 " Here it is," said Jaudan joyfully, as he held it up 
 before them all. 
 
 A flush of joy and triumph lit up Vincenzi's face. 
 The muscles which had already begun to stiffen in the 
 paralysis of death, were once more set free, as if by a 
 touch of electric fire. Death itself stood abashed, as the 
 strong will of the wronged and outraged man, for the 
 moment, asserted its sway. In a convulsion, he sprang 
 from his pillow clutched the Will, and scattered it in a 
 thousand pieces over his bed ! The death-rattle was in 
 his throat but in a suffocating shriek, he exclaimed, as 
 he lifted his arms in triumph 
 
 " Genevra, I have ! I have ! Come to my arms " 
 and folding her to his bosom, he fell back a corpse. 
 - " Inez, take the poor girl to her room," said Jaudan ; 
 and raising the fainting, lifeless form, they carried Gene 
 vra to her chamber. 
 
 The General of the Company of Jesus was left stand 
 ing alone over the dead man 
 
 " Poor fool," he said, as he looked into that face of 
 ashes " you tore up the copy ; as for the original, you 
 are now for ever beyond its reach." 
 
 " What a pity ! What a pity ! " exclaimed O'Sullivan, 
 as he returned to the death-chamber, and closed the door. 
 
 16*
 
 370 WE'LL SEE ! 
 
 " What is such a pity ? " 
 
 " The Will is destroyed ! The Will is destroyed ! " 
 
 " Yes, it would have been, with such a bungler as you, 
 but I happen to have the Will safe in my casket. I had 
 to give him something to destroy of course." 
 
 O'Sullivan was overwhelmed with joy and amazement. 
 In adoration of the genius of Jaudan he fell to his knees, 
 and kissed the hand of his General. 
 
 " We are safe then. Thanks to the Virgin." 
 
 " Yes, and we have been safe all the time, thanks to 
 me." 
 
 Jaudan laid the crucifix upon the dead man's breast, 
 and rang the bell for the lady of the house. 
 
 O'Sullivan left the room. In passing up the stairway, 
 he involuntarily said to himself (he thought he said it to 
 himself only), " Then it was only the copy after all, and 
 we are safe" 
 
 Inez, who was passing through the half-lighted hall at 
 this moment, overheard those words. 
 
 " Ah, ha ! You think so. We'll see."
 
 * THE ORPHAN GIRL. 371 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 THE ORPHAN. 
 
 TOWARDS midnight, Genevra woke from the death-like 
 stupor, which had mercifully succeeded the deep swoon 
 into which she had fallen in her father's chamber. A 
 light was burning dimly in the room, and Inez was sitting 
 by the bed, holding the hand of the orphan girl. 
 
 " Is it you, Inez ?" she said, languidly. " Why are 
 you sitting here ? Do you want anything ?" 
 
 Inez rose and stooped to kiss her, and the warm tears 
 of sympathy, which she could not restrain, fell upon 
 Genevra's face. 
 
 " Oh, Heaven ! I remember now !" she cried, as the 
 tide of memory rolled back. "Oh, my poor father!" 
 And she covered her face with her hands, as if to shut 
 out the recollection of the scene she had witnessed. But 
 the tender, caressing words of Inez soon brought tears 
 those burning tears which relieve the heart and brain. 
 
 When she grew more composed, and her deep sobbings 
 began to die away, Inez said >
 
 372 WAS THE WILL DESTROYED? 
 
 " Genevra, my dear, as soon as you feel able, I wish to 
 converse with you, for you are not yet beyond the reach 
 of danger. I have my suspicions, in fact, I am sure, 
 that your father's Will still exists that the .Jesuits gave 
 Mm another paper to destroy ; for, when I went down 
 for the camphor, I overheard O'Sullivan say these words : 
 ' Then it was only the copy after all, and we are safe. 1 
 Jaudan never would have let him destroy that Will." 
 
 Painful as Genevra's feelings were at the sufferings and 
 the loss of her father yet during the last few hours Hea 
 ven seemed to have come to her rescue, and a bright future 
 had opened upon her vision. Exit the words Inez had 
 spoken had once more brought back all the shadows and 
 thick gloom that had hung over her spirit. 
 
 " Oh, Inez ! can it be ? There is, then, no hope. My 
 heart is broken, and I must yield to my fate. Oh, what 
 a world of sorrow and wickedness this is !" 
 
 " And yet, Genevra, we must not give up. It is to 
 escape this wickedness and trouble that I now wish to 
 speak to you. You must be calm. By this last deed of 
 crime, which has been done at your father's dying bed, 
 it is impossible for us to hope anything from the compas 
 sion of Jaudan. It will be just as useless to try to move 
 the heart of the mistress of this house. Her servants, 
 and your father's servants, are all the Jesuits' creatures, 
 and we can do nothing until Stanhope comes. While
 
 GENEVRA'S GRIEF. 373 
 
 you were sleeping, I wrote to him, and if I could have 
 got out of this house, not the darkness, nor the strangeness 
 of the city, would have prevented me from getting the 
 letter into hands that would have carried it to its destina 
 tion. But, as soon as the morning dawns, I shall find 
 some way to do it. He will be here by night, and he 
 Avill come armed with the authority of the law, and we 
 shall be rescued. Then, Genevra, the Tribunals of Jus 
 tice will investigate the case, and these dreadful men be 
 brought to punishment. 
 
 " Oh, Inez ! you did you must have understood from 
 what you saw, that my dear father wished to destroy 
 that Will, which puts me in the power of Jaudan. You 
 saw how wild was the exultation with which he tore it 
 into fragments. Towards evening, my dear father and I 
 had a long and affectionate conversation, in which he 
 expressed the bitterest regret that he had so unkindly 
 treated my dear mother. I am sure he was penitent, and 
 I believe God will forgive him." 
 
 " Yes, Genevra, the crime must rest alone upon the 
 heads of those black-hearted Jesuits." 
 
 " My father likewise," she continued, " said that I 
 should worship God as my own conscience dictated ; and 
 if I chose to marry Stanhope, I should do so, and have 
 his blessing. Oh ! if he could have lived after this 
 change in his feelings, I should have been happy ; but
 
 374 HOPE WILL COME. 
 
 now I feel that it is useless to struggle longer. I am 
 worn out body and mind. We are in the hands of 
 these priests, and not even Stanhope can save us. And 
 who knows but he, too, has fallen into their snares, and 
 may be now hundreds of miles away ; perhaps imprisoned 
 or dead. Oh, my Inez ! I have no longer power to re 
 sist, even in thought." 
 
 " You have not now, my dear ; you are prostrated 
 with fatigue and grief. To-morrow hope will come, and 
 these gloomy fears will pass away with the night 
 shadows. You must sleep now, and I will lie down 
 beside you till day breaks, and then I will go on my 
 mission."
 
 THE LETTER TO BURLEIGH. 375 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 THE GRAVE. 
 
 THE next morning came .in late, dark, cold, and rainy ; 
 but before Inez heard any one astir, she lightly de 
 scended the stairs, with the letter to Burleigh in her 
 pocket. Her hand was on the outside door, but it was 
 locked ; and the key was not there. She felt along 
 the carpet, in hopes it had fallen; and as she stood in 
 perplexity, asking herself if there were no other egress 
 from the house, she heard light footsteps gliding behind 
 her. They were the footsteps of Jaudan, in slippers 
 Avhich had muffled his noiseless track of death for so 
 many years. 
 
 " Why, Inez ! What are you doing here, thus dressed ? 
 You do not think of going out in this terrible storm 1" 
 
 " Yes, I was to take a breath of air," she said, as the 
 tell-tale blush of conscious falsehood rose to her cheeks. 
 " Have you any objections ?" 
 
 " Most certainly I have, my dear. I must look after
 
 376 INEZ DEFEATED. 
 
 your life, if you do not. Go back to your room. You 
 need sleep more than fresli air ? How is Miss Vincenzi ?" 
 
 Inez, with her hot Spanish blood bounding with indig 
 nation, rushed up the stairway, without speaking. She 
 did not return to the room of Genevra, for she was de 
 termined to leave the house on the first opportunity ; 
 and she did not wish to afflict her friend with an account 
 of this first failure. She listened, and soon the hum of 
 the stirring household rose to her chamber. Doors 
 opened and shut, and voices were heard along the pas 
 sages. She stepped from her room, and listened by the 
 balustrade. Jaudan and O'Sullivan were conversing in 
 the open door of the drawing-room. " It is useless at 
 present," she thought, and throwing herself upon the 
 bed, she slept profoundly, till the summons to breakfast 
 aroused her. She had not undressed during the night, 
 and after making a hasty toilet, she went to see Genevra. 
 
 She was too ill to rise, but a smile lighted her face as 
 she looked inquiringly at Inez. 
 
 " K"ot yet, my dear the morning is rainy, and I found 
 the door locked. But I shall get away in the course of 
 the day. Let us have our breakfast here by your bed-side." 
 
 The rain poured in torrents, and noon came ; but Inez 
 had found no opportunity to leave the house unobserved. 
 She was sitting in her room, in deep thought. For the 
 first time, she felt herself a prisoner ; and her heart beat
 
 THE HURRIED FUNERAL. 377 
 
 madly against her breast, as she thought of the possibility 
 of her not being able to advise Stanhope. But she 
 calmed herself with the thought that the funeral of Vin- 
 cenzi was yet to take place, when she should leave the 
 house, and have a chance to give the letter to some one, 
 even if he were a stranger. 
 
 While she was thus anxiously thinking, a knock was 
 heard at the door, and Jaudan came in. 
 
 " Inez, it is the opinion of Father O'Sullivan, and the 
 mistress of the house, that the funeral should take place 
 to-day. I agree with him. Everything is prepared, and 
 the body will be removed to the cemetery about five o' 
 clock. I should advise you and Miss Vincenzi to remain 
 at home ; but her affection for her father, and her Ameri 
 can prejudices may make her desirous of going to the grave, 
 and I shall not oppose her wishes. You can go and pre 
 pare her." 
 
 " But, Monsieur, why this haste ? Miss Vincenzi is ill 
 too ill to leave her bed. The fatigue and excitement 
 will kill her. Is it not possible to delay this funeral 
 until to-morrow at least ?" 
 
 " Mademoiselle, it is useless to resist" he said signifi 
 cantly " go and tell her that she can attend us, or we 
 leave without her." 
 
 Inez obeyed without another word. She felt shocked 
 at the haste of the two Jesuits to dispose of their victim ;
 
 378 DRESS ME, INEZ. 
 
 but she congratulated herself that she would sooner have 
 an opportunity to inform Burleigh. " Oh ! If I could 
 have known that poor Vincenzi was so near his end ! " 
 
 She communicated, in as gentle a manner as possible, 
 the commands of Jaudan. 
 
 A pale horror overspread Genevra's face. She could 
 scarcely believe that even Inez was telling her the 
 truth. 
 
 '* Bury my dear father to-day !" she cried " Is it not 
 enough that they have murdered him 1 and now must 
 they hide their work so soon 1 Oh cruel, cruel haste ! 
 Help me, Inez. I will follow that father's body to its 
 last resting-place, and would to God I, too, were to lie 
 down beside him, in the same cold chamber of death." 
 
 " You must not go, Genevra, in this wild tempest. 
 Protect your life, if it be only for your betrothed." 
 
 " Dress me, Inez ; I must look upon my father's face 
 again, before it is hidden for ever from my sight. Tell 
 Jaudan I shall be ready." 
 
 Inez almost lifted her friend from the bed. She 
 clothed her trembling form in the darkest garments of 
 her wardrobe, and then, half supporting and half carry 
 ing her, she took her to the room of her dead father. 
 
 No one Avas there. The body was already inclosed in 
 its last tenement, shut out alike from the eye of hate and 
 love. At this sight, a look of anguish, that cannot be
 
 SAVE ME, O GOD ! 379 
 
 described, came into Gerievra's face. She did not speak, 
 but tottered forward, and sank upon her knees beside 
 the coffin, while from her poor heart rose the cry of the 
 afflicted David " Save me, God ; for the waters are 
 come in unto my soul. I sink into deep mire, where 
 there is no standing. I am come into deep waters where 
 the floods overflow me. I am weary of my cry. My 
 throat is dry. Mine eyes fail, while I wait for my God." 
 
 But the precipitation with which the Jesuits were 
 hurrying on their work, admitted of no time for grief. 
 Jaudan and his attendants entered the room to bear 
 away the lifeless remains, and Inez and Genevra were 
 told to take their places in the carriage. 
 
 The day of death is a day of gloom, under the fairest 
 skies ; but when the bereaved heart of the orphan child 
 goes to the father's tomb, through a cold, dark, autumn 
 storm, as the black curtains of night enfold the earth, 
 there is a depth of gloom which none can imagine but 
 those who have experienced it. As they entered the 
 carriage, accompanied by Jaudan and O'Sullivan, Inez 
 observed only one carnage besides. It was awaiting the 
 mistress of the house, and two of her maids. 
 
 Genevra leaned back in the seat, and buried her face 
 in her veil ; but Inez looked restlessly from the window, 
 hoping that a merciful Providence would throw some one 
 across their path, to whom she could deliver the letter
 
 380 THE OBSEQUIES OF VINCENZI. 
 
 which she held in her hand, within the pocket of her 
 dress. But during the long, still progress, no human 
 being was visible. 
 
 They arrived at the cemetery. A few boys and 
 laboring men, attracted by the sight of the open gates 
 and dismal hearse, were the only spectators. 
 
 Obeying the commands of Jaudan, the young girls 
 remained seated in the carriage, which was drawn up 
 near the gateway. During the services performed by 
 0' Sullivan which returned ashes to ashes, and dust to 
 dust, Inez tried in vain to catch the eyes of one of the 
 boys ; but the moving to and fro of the dripping umbrel 
 las of the attendants, gave her only momentary glimpses 
 of the spectators. 
 
 The rites were over. The two priests again took 
 their places in the "carriage, which moved slowly away. 
 Genevra, pale, exhausted, and almost unconscious, lay 
 enclosed in the arms of the half frantic Inez. The 
 Spanish girl hoped still ; but to be thus thwarted in all 
 her attempts, was more than her impetuous nature could 
 endure. 
 
 It was now so dark, that through the still increasing 
 mist, objects were scarcely visible. She took the letter 
 from her pocket, and stealthily dropped it from the car 
 riage window, with an inward prayer that some one 
 might find it, and send it to its address. Vain hope !
 
 THE NEW HOME OP INEZ AND GENEVRA. 381 
 
 Would not the wet earth, and the drifting rain, soon obli 
 terate every trace of her pen ? 
 
 A few straggling lamps along the road, only made the 
 darkness more visible. At last the carriage reached the 
 house, and as 0' Sullivan led the way, Jaudan and Inez 
 assisted G-enevra up the steps. With a ponderous sound 
 the door closed behind them. The hall was dark, but 
 O'Sullivan threw open a door, from which the light 
 streamed ; and for the first time they perceived that 
 they were in a strange apartment. Inez passed her 
 hand across her eyes, doubtful of her own vision. But 
 no ; it was the little plain parlor of the Abbess of a Con 
 vent, and the form of a black-robed nun stood before 
 them ! 
 
 Her first impulse was to seize the hand of Genevra, 
 and turn to fly but O'Sullivan stood between her and 
 the entrance, while Jaudan, in his blandest tones, pre 
 sented his victims to " the Lady Superior of the Sacred 
 Heart of Johnstown." 
 
 " Yes, Madame, we are here," cried Inez her strong 
 indignation breaking forth " seduced into your hands by 
 base treachery ; but we shall not long remain here. 
 The friends of Miss Vincenzi will soon be upon her 
 track, and they will raze this house to its foundations, if 
 need be, to rescue her." 
 
 The Abbess looked in some terror towards Jaudan
 
 382 THE GIRLS IN THE CONVENT. 
 
 during tliis daring speech, but lie only smiled, and shrug 
 ging his shoulders, said 
 
 " Madame, you had better show the young ladies to 
 their sleeping apartments. Miss Vincenzi needs rest. 
 As for Miss Inez, her zeal for her friend has made her 
 somewhat imprudent ; but a night's sleep will calm her 
 excitement ;" and bidding them good evening, he left 
 the room Inez heard the carriage roll away. 
 
 Genevra had dropped upon the first seat offered her. 
 She was too hopeless and heart-sick to complain, and 
 ehe passively followed Inez to the rooms assigned them. 
 They were small, simple, but comfortable ; and it cheered 
 them to find that they communicated with each other. 
 
 "Do you see, Genevra," said Inez, after she had 
 taken off the poor girl's bonnet and cloak, and helped 
 her to the couch, " do you see that our trunks arrived 
 here before us, my dear ? I shall not do much unpack 
 ing, I can tell them. I believe we shall outwit them 
 yet. At any rate, Burleigh will be here before long ; if 
 he does not get a letter from me, he will in some manner 
 learn of the death of your father ; and, besides, we shall 
 not be here long, before I find somebody that will help 
 us." 
 
 " But, Inez, what did you do with the letter ?" 
 
 " I dropped it in the street." 
 
 Genevra shook her head.
 
 A SISTER'S TENDERNESS. 383 
 
 " I shall write another, Genevra, and put it in my 
 pocket with one of your gold eagles, and I believe I 
 shall find some one in this place wicked enough to take 
 both of them." 
 
 " Heaven's will be done !" said Genevra, despairingly. 
 " I feel that I have done all my duty in remaining with 
 my father to the last. If I am to stay here, it will be 
 but a little while ; for I cannot long endure what I am 
 called upon to suffer." 
 
 " Do not give up, my darling ; bear up a little while 
 longer, and Stanhope will come." 
 
 While they were yet speaking, a knock was heard at 
 the door. Inez opened it, and a smiling Sister of the 
 Order brought in tea and other light refreshments for 
 the strangers. She spoke kindly and cheerfully threw 
 a few more sticks upon the fire trimmed the lamps, and 
 after making everything tidy and comfortable, she kissed 
 them both affectionately, and bade them good night. 
 
 When she had seen Genevra well cared for, Inez went 
 to her own bed; but not to-close her eyes, until a hun 
 dred futile schemes had been devised and rejected.
 
 384 HOW TO ESCAPE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 LIFE IN THE CONVENT. 
 
 Two days had passed drearily away. Inez had ex 
 plored every part of the Convent, especially the Chapel, 
 during morning and evening prayers ; for it was from 
 this place, she hoped to find some way of escape. She 
 discovered a small door on one side of the altar, which 
 led into a narrow corridor, from which there was an egress 
 to the street, by a narrow window, looking to the north. 
 The door was secured by a heavy wooden bar on the in 
 side. A narrow flight of stairs, at the foot of the win 
 dow, led, she knew not whither, but she thought, to some 
 gallery, or organ-loft of the- Chapel. Ascending two or 
 three steps, she looked from the window which did not 
 seem far from the ground and saw nothing but a barren 
 and desolate patch, with a few straggling houses beyond. 
 The window was not barred ; but large, dingy panes were 
 set in leaden frames, which gave it a gloomy and prison- 
 like appearance.
 
 THE OLD NEGRO. 385 
 
 " We could escape here, if Genevra only had the 
 strength and courage," she thought. " I should not bo 
 afraid to leap twice the distance. But I will have pa 
 tience for a few days ; and she is growing so well now, 
 that she will soon be equal to the task." 
 
 While she stood revolving the possibility of so 
 desperate a flight, she heard a shuffling and mut 
 tering noise near her; and looking up, a bent and 
 decrepit old negro, with a basket on his arm, came 
 toiling down the stair-way. Inez had seen him once 
 before, from the window of her chamber, as he came 
 into the Convent with the samo basket. Hope now 
 sprang up in her bosom. 
 
 " Good morning, daddy ; what do you carry in your 
 basket ?" 
 
 " Yarbs, Missus yarbs for de Convent. I'se pick 'em, 
 an' dried 'em long ago an' I'se fotchin 'em to stow in de 
 garret ob de Convent." 
 
 Inez's heart beat wildly 
 
 " When shall you come again, daddy ?" 
 
 " Oh, Missus, I reckon I'se bok agin by noon, wid 
 anudder load. I tink young missus want someting. I'd 
 like a smart chance to do an arrand, for such a nice 
 missus as you." 
 
 " Well, daddy, if you will be back by noon, and take 
 a letter for me to the Post Office, and not tell anybody 
 17
 
 386 THE CERTAINTY OF FLIGHT. 
 
 in the world anything about it, I will give you this" 
 and she showed him a gold eagle. 
 
 The bleared eyes of the old man dilated with rapture, 
 and shaking all over with a chuckle of delight, he said 
 
 " Nebber, nebber fear, missus I'se be very punctul 
 gosh a'mighty, I'se not had so much money dis many a 
 day" and full of glee he trotted away. 
 
 Inez hastened to her room, and in breathless delight 
 communicated to Genevra her new-born hopes. 
 
 A letter was written, but this time it was in the hand 
 of Genevra. She told Stanhope of her father's death 
 the betrayal, and deception she suspected in the matter 
 of the Will the inveiglement into the Convent, and 
 then instructed by Inez minutely detailed the plan 
 for their escape. Three nights later, he was to be at the 
 north window at the end of the Chapel they would 
 descend to the street, and he should bear them away. 
 
 The old negro returned at noon, and Inez gave him 
 the money and the letter. She charged him again, as he 
 hoped for Heaven, not to deceive her. The loyal- 
 hearted old man, went away suffering at the thought 
 that anybody should have suspected him of so base a 
 thing. 
 
 " Dis young missus don't know Uncle Ned udderwise 
 she formed corrector conclusions 'bout my honor as a 
 person ob color." And he straightened himself up with
 
 THE BUOYANCY OF HOPE. 3S7 
 
 pride, as he hurried away. " Young missus better be 
 lookin' arter some ob dem dam priests dat is gettin' so 
 mighty tick round Johnstown dese days." 
 
 Inez stole back stealthily to her room, where, with 
 Genevra, she watched the old negro going down the road, 
 until he disappeared round a corner ; then, clasped in 
 each other's joyous embrace, they laughed and Avept with 
 excitement and delight. 
 
 From this time Genevra's health became more buoyant. 
 She believed the letter would reach Stanhope, and, even 
 if they should not be able to escape, as Inez had planned, 
 he would at least learn where they were, and eventually 
 come to their rescue. The thought sent new life into her 
 heart. They did not mingle much with the sisterhood 
 kind, gentle, and winning as everything around them 
 seemed to be but Genevra's delicate health was a suffi 
 cient excuse for passing most of the time in their 
 chambers.
 
 388 A VISIT FROM JAUDAN. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 INEZ'S PLAN FOR ESCAPE. 
 
 THE evening before the longed-for day, the young girls 
 were sitting in their room, talking hopefully of their 
 intended flight, when Jaudan sent up a request to see 
 them in the parlor. They could not refuse him ; and 
 together they went down. A cold shudder passed over 
 Genevra, as she again looked upon this terrible man. 
 
 " Young ladies, I am glad that you seem so pleasantly 
 situated here. I hope you like the place, as it will most 
 probably be your future home. I had not so designed 
 for Inez but a person who has so little control over her 
 self, needs the restrictive discipline of a Convent." 
 
 Inez, cold, proud, and silent, bit her lips in despera 
 tion. In not speaking under such stinging provocation, 
 she displayed more control over herself than Jaudan 
 had ever shown. She knew that her cherished plan 
 of escape, might be perilled by one rash word. 
 
 " Oh, Monsieur !" said Genevra, " I feel that it is use-
 
 I AM A FREE AMERICAN WOMAN. 389 
 
 less to entreat you ; but why will you force me to remain 
 in this hateful place 1 It was my father's wish, as you 
 well know, that, after his death, I should be allowed to 
 do as my own judgment might dictate. I am a freo 
 American woman. There is no law of my country that 
 can rob me of my liberty. I am of legal age and you 
 know that the moment the authorities of the land learn 
 the facts, I can be taken from this place in spite of all 
 resistance. I demand now that you open the doors of 
 this Convent, and let me go forth as my own mistress. 
 You may still have what pretends to be the Will of my 
 father fraudulently obtained, and perhaps wickedly kept, 
 in spite of all appearances from his dying grasp. I do 
 not know the contents of that Will. By it, I suppose 
 that he has given you his whole estate. Keep it but 
 give me my liberty and I swear to you, that you shall 
 never be disturbed in your inheritance. I will even," 
 she continued, as the tears rushed to her eyes, and she 
 was almost falling at the feet of the Jesuit, " bless you, 
 and pray for you for ever, to show my gratitude." 
 
 " Mademoiselle, do not afflict yourself by these mat 
 ters of which you know nothing. I am transacting a 
 solemn duty which I owe to God to the soul of your 
 departed father, and to yourself. I came to tell you, 
 that it is my desire as I have been intrusted with all 
 your affairs that you should prepare to take the vows
 
 390 GENEVRA DEFIES JAUDAN. 
 
 which will make you a Sister of the Sacred Heart, to-mor 
 row, and a bride of Christ for ever. The ceremony will 
 take place at 10 o'clock in the evening." 
 
 Genevra sprang to her feet. 
 
 " Monsieur," she cried, " you can never force me to do 
 it. These vows I never will pronounce ! You may 
 drag me to the altar but no sign of mine shall show 
 that I accept them." 
 
 " Miss Vincenzi has not served the prescribed novitiate, 
 Monsieur," said Inez, " and how can she be accepted ? " 
 
 " Miss Vincenzi you forget, Inez was in the Sacred 
 Heart at Genoa for two years. This will, I think, prove 
 a sufficient novitiate at least the Lady Superior thinks 
 so, and I agree with her." 
 
 " But," continued Genevra with a new-born spirit of 
 resolution " I am not a Catholic, and I never shall be, 
 Sir. Neither imprisonment, nor the black garb of a nun, 
 can make me anything but an American Protestant. I 
 despise your priests, your priest-craft, and all your 
 Jesuitical juggleries ; and before you have walked this 
 American soil much longer, and dared to perpetrate such 
 murderous crimes as you have already done here even 
 in the sight of the tomb of the Father of ' my country ' 
 justice will overtake you ; and if there be no law to do 
 it, the people of this country will take the matter in their 
 hands."
 
 A JUST GOD REIGNS IN HEAVEN. 391 
 
 " You are deranged, Mademoiselle," said the priest, 
 rising. " I am not sure but a madhouse would be a bet 
 ter place for you." 
 
 The trampled worm, had turned upon the treader. 
 
 " It is no fault of yours, Sir, that I am not mad now," 
 she cried from the depths of her lacerated spirit. " Yoti 
 sacrificed the life of my mother, by your base arts ; you 
 destroyed the happiness of my father, and brought him 
 to a premature grave. You robbed the wronged orphan 
 of her rights, and now you would become her murderer. 
 But a just God reigns in Heaven, and he will yet smite 
 you. ' The wicked shall not always triumph.' I shall 
 yet be wrested from your iniquitous hands, and the day 
 of vengeance will come, whether you succeed in your 
 villanies, and offer up one more victim upon your in 
 fernal altars, or not. The Company of Jesus cannot 
 long live in a Land which holds the sacred ashes of 
 Washington ! " 
 
 The soul of the hardened Jesuit was stung to the 
 quick ; but the only sign he betrayed, was in a slight 
 ciirl of the lip, as he opened the door. 
 
 " Inez, see that Mademoiselle is duly prepared for the 
 ceremony to-morrow evening, at 10 o'clock;" and ho 
 left the room. 
 
 Genevra fell back into a chair her hands upon her 
 heart suffering on her face.
 
 392 SHALL GENEVRA TAKE THE VEIL ? 
 
 Inez understood that look and motion ; she chafed her 
 hands and temples ; the color came back. 
 
 " Genevra ! why did you forget yourself? You acted 
 nobly ; but remember, you will want all your little 
 strength for our flight." 
 
 " Inez, I told the villain the truth ; I felt just desperate 
 enough to do it. But, to take the veil to-morrow night !" 
 
 " What will you do ?" 
 
 " Do ? Nothing ! I will not even go down to the 
 Chapel." 
 
 " But they will clothe you in the white robe and veil, 
 in your chamber, and lead you there, in spite of your 
 self." 
 
 " They cannot ! They shall not !" 
 
 " And yet they can, and will," said Inez, " or they 
 will bring you to it by close imprisonment in your 
 chamber, till they have broken down your spirit. These 
 Jesuits accomplish far more by attrition, than other men 
 do by force." 
 
 " Then, Inez, tell me what to do." 
 
 " Submit, Genevra ! or appear to. Let them adorn 
 you as a bride, and go to the altar. Assent to no vow 
 once a Nun, in form, and they are satisfied. We shall 
 retire to our chambers ? and when the hour for Stanhope 
 comes, and all is still, we will have our triumph, and fly 
 these haunts of crime and sorrow for ever."
 
 THE RESOLVE. 393 
 
 " Inez, can we not escape that scene at the altar 1 I 
 cannot go through it." 
 
 " No ! You must endure it Stanhope will come." 
 All Genevra's resolution came back, and she exult 
 antly answered, " I will, my brave Inez !" 
 
 17*
 
 394 SHE shall TAKE THE VEIL. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 THE JESUIT ALONE. 
 
 JAUDAN was once more sitting alone in his chamber, and 
 he was disturbed. He had heard the truth at last ; and 
 it had been told him by the gentle, the beautiful Genevra 
 a being, his sturdy and subtle nature had never feared. 
 Who had ever dared, even among the great and powerful, 
 to tell him the truth before ? " To be thus reviled and 
 defied by a defenceless American orphan girl, who de 
 spises me, and abhors my faith, and dares to tell me so." 
 It made Jaudan desperate. 
 
 " She shall take the veil, if I have, myself, to drag 
 her to the altar." 
 
 O'Sullivan entered. 
 
 - " I have been to the Convent," remarked the General, 
 " to arrange the matter of to-morrow night." 
 
 " And were near being swept away by another deluge 
 of tears, of course," replied the servile priest. 
 
 " Not at all : the girl seemed to have imbibed the 
 spirit of my ward, and she berated me most soundly."
 
 THE TWO JESUITS. 395 
 
 O'Sullivan rolled up his eyes in pious horror. 
 
 " Ah ! my knave ! That is all owing to your Repub 
 lican Institutions. Why, our infallible Father himself 
 would find he was a very common mortal, if he came 
 among these heretics. Hubert was right in saying, that 
 it is no easy work to build up the Company of Jesus in 
 a Republican soil. But I can manage this girl although 
 I am sorry it is costing me so much time, when we have 
 despatched the rest of the job so quick. I am wanted 
 now in New York. The great election is just at hand ; 
 and this very day I have had two dispatches from Hubert. 
 Of course, you telegraphed him about the death, etc. V 
 
 " I did, General." 
 
 " You will now take this further dispatch," continued 
 Jaudan, as he handed him a slip of paper, " have it sent 
 to-night no fail." 
 
 " It will be done, General. Is there any other matter 
 to be looked after ?" 
 
 " I think of nothing else just now. We have got on 
 well so far ; but it is hardly safe yet, to tell Hubert when 
 I can start for New York." 
 
 " It was a good move to slide the girls into the Con 
 vent that night, General." 
 
 " Yes ; or after the funeral we might have had some 
 scenes in this house, which would have disturbed the 
 neighborhood. I find that my ward is disposed to
 
 396 THE VEIL AT 10 O'CLOCK. 
 
 thwart our plans. But it is too late. She is a noble and 
 true-hearted girl," he said, with an ill-suppressed sigh, 
 " and I thought of allowing her to remain where she is. 
 But I shall probably find better use for her. I can 
 whisper one word in her ear, which will bend her to my 
 will, as the osier bends to the blast." 
 
 "The next thing then, General?" obsequiously de 
 manded O'Sullivan 
 
 " Is the veil at ten o'clock."
 
 THE BRIDE PREPARED FOR THE ALTAR. 397 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 TAKING THE VEIL. 
 
 As the hour drew near for Genevra to pass the terrible 
 ordeal, which so many fair victims of ambition, love, 
 and avarice have found only a gateway to an early and 
 forgotten grave, she suffered all the horror she would 
 have felt, in going to a real sacrifice. It required all the 
 sustaining power of Inez, and the cheering hope of being 
 rescued by her lover, to save her from falling into a state 
 of despair, which seemed to threaten madness. 
 
 But, as evening approached, she grew more calm ; and 
 when the Lady Abbess came to her room to prepare her 
 for the altar, she passively submitted herself to the hands 
 of Inez, to be arrayed in the manner prescribed. 
 
 A white, etherial, India muslin a gift from her father 
 a lace mantle, and a bridal veil and wreath, brought 
 by the Abbess made her look so pure and lovely, that 
 the tears started to the eyes of Inez ; and embracing her 
 friend, she softly whispered, " The next time, it will be 
 as the bride of Stanhope."
 
 398 THE SCENE AT THE ALTAR. 
 
 Genevra smiled faintly ; but her cold hands, and tremu 
 lous lips, bespoke none of the warm and sunny hopes of 
 a happy bride. 
 
 No father or mother no groups of sympathizing 
 friends greeted the poor girl at the altar. The dimly- 
 lighted Chapel, the plaintive peal of the organ, and the 
 dark forms and pale faces of the Sisters as they stood 
 in breathless silence, witnessing the scene which they 
 felt was an unwilling sacrifice were enough to over 
 whelm the brightest spirit. 
 
 Jaudan, as her spiritual Father, gave away the pure 
 virgin bride, to Christ ; and O'Sullivan, as the officiating 
 priest, pronounced the vows which were to bind her to 
 that Bridegroom for ever. 
 
 Faint and bewildered, Genevra made no sign. 
 
 The organ still pealed on. Then came the Spiritual 
 Mother, bearing the black veil and cloak. She approached 
 Genevra removed the wreath and veil, and laid them 
 upon the altar ; undid that bright, magnificent hair the 
 pride of Stanhope, and the only woman vanity of Ge 
 nevra and it fell in massive waves almost to her feet. 
 
 For the first time, it occurred to the young girls, that 
 this glory of womanhood was to be shorn. 
 
 Grief, terror, and despair seized the soul of Genevra. 
 She stayed the uplifted hand of the Abbess, and looked 
 around for aid.
 
 SAVE ME, STANHOPE ! 399 
 
 " Spare me !" she shrieked " Save me ! Save me ! 
 Inez ! Stanhope !" 
 
 She stretched out her arms to the now terrified Inez 
 took one step forward, and fell forward heavily on the 
 marble pavement. 
 
 Inez sprang, and raised the head to her bosom. The 
 blue eyes were closed, and along the slightly -parted lips 
 and pearly teeth, was visible a line of dark red blood. 
 She laid her hand upon the heart it had ceased to beat ! 
 That angelic soul had indeed been Avedded, and gone 
 home to the bosom of the Bridegroom ! 
 
 The organ notes died away in long and mournful 
 vibrations. 
 
 Shocked beyond the power of speech, Jaudan lifted 
 the sinking Inez tenderly in his arms, and bore her from 
 the Chapel. 
 
 The frightened Nuns fled to their rooms, as though an 
 avenger were on their footsteps. 
 
 O'Sullivan with shaking nerves, assisted by the 
 weeping Abbess raised the /air but lifeless girl, and laid 
 her upon a low bier before the altar. 
 
 The wreath was replaced upon the calm, transparent 
 forehead the small hands pressed a crucifix to the still 
 bosom, and the bridal veil was thrown over all. The 
 lighted tapers were placed at the head and feet, and 
 Death and gloom, alone remained in the Chapel.
 
 400 BURLEIGH COMES. 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 STANHOPE FINDS GENEVBA. 
 
 THE night was dark. Heavy clouds -were drifting 
 through the sky ; and the autumn wind moaned, and 
 cried along the deserted streets, and through the withered 
 trees. 
 
 But Burleigh, hopeful, though anxious, heeded not 
 the threatening heavens he hurried on to the Convent. 
 
 He found the north window as the letter had described 
 it, and there he awaited, with palpitating heart, the 
 approach of Genevra and Inez. Nothing but the gusty 
 wind, and the distant howling of a watch-dog, could 
 be heard through the thick night. 
 
 The hours rolled on, and Stanhope's fears began to 
 take the place of expectation. The window still 
 remained closed. 
 
 Three heavy strokes from a neighboring church -tower, 
 tolled the hour of three. Had the projected flight been 
 discovered ?
 
 THE GRAVE SHALL NOT HAVE HER. 401 
 
 Burning with impatience, he determined to enter the 
 Convent, at any hazard. The window was too far from 
 the ground to be reached. He hurried to the south side, 
 where he discovered the little door which led into the 
 street. He tried it it seemed to yield he .pushed 
 against it violently the wooden bar which held it fell 
 with a loud noise. He passed the threshold closed the 
 door, and stood in the Chapel. 
 
 The wax tapers, which had burned low, were casting 
 a wavering and uncertain light on surrounding objects ; 
 but the low bier, and the white-veiled, outstretched form, 
 were but too visible. Where he had expected to meet 
 beauty, life, and love, Death alone was to greet him ! 
 
 A presentiment of evil fell upon his soul. He ap 
 proached the bier he tore away the veil and sudden 
 madness seized him ! It was Genevra ! but she was not 
 dead. " She, the beautiful, the adored, the longed-for 
 bride, so soon to be clasped to his sheltering breast for 
 ever ! No ! The grave should not have her she was 
 his alone." 
 
 He kissed her with passionate, frantic kisses he 
 called her by every name that love could speak he 
 wept he implored her to answer he raised her in his 
 arms he pressed her lifeless form to his bursting 
 heart and, with a wild cry of agony, fell senseless at 
 her side.
 
 402 INEZ FLIES. 
 
 A moment after, the light figure of a boy 
 
 appeared in the Chapel. He cast one wild look of 
 anguish towards the altar, and, with streaming eyes, fled 
 out into the darkness !
 
 THE DEAD BRIDE. 403 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 THE DEAD BRIDE. 
 
 As the reluctant morning at last began slowly to dispel 
 the thick night-gloom that had wrapped the city, the two 
 Jesuits once more entered the Chapel. The Abbess had 
 passed a sleepless night. The scene she had witnessed 
 before the altar, she could not forget. She had requested 
 Jaudan and 'Sullivan to remain during the night in the 
 Convent ; and they had now descended to the Chapel, to 
 look once more upon their victim. 
 
 The morning twilight was struggling through the 
 high-arched windows, and the last taper was flickering in 
 its socket. 
 
 As the Jesuits came near the altar, Jaudan saw a dark 
 form lying prostrate by the bier. 
 
 " Can this be Inez ?" he exclaimed. He stooped to 
 see he could not tell he laid his hand upon the arm 
 he lifted it" Who can it be ? Almighty God ! It is 
 Burleigh !"
 
 404 EURLEIGH DRAGGED AWAY. 
 
 The Jesuits looked at one another ; their faces were 
 blanched with terror. Their work was done overdone ! 
 Could they hide the dead ? 
 
 Jaudan once more bent over the body 
 
 " He is not dead, O'Sullivan." 
 
 And flinging from his grasp the powerless arm of the 
 senseless man, he exclaimed with the vindictiveness of a 
 fiend 
 
 " Drag him away thrust him forth let us end the 
 farce." 
 
 The Irish priest clutched him ; and with brutal fero 
 city, dragged him to the door of the Chapel. The head 
 fell heavily from the step. He dragged him on on 
 over the rough pavement, and left him in the open street.
 
 THE OATH. 405 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 THE OATH. 
 
 THE fresh breeze and dewy air of the morning, soon 
 revived to life and misery, the wretched Burleigh. His 
 first recollection was of a frightful dream, which still 
 seemed to paralyse his senses. He rose to his feet. He 
 pressed his hands to his burning temples ; he looked 
 around, and his eyes fell upon the prison walls of the 
 Convent. 
 
 " It is not then a dream !" 
 
 He rushed back to the door of the Chapel, and shook 
 it with frantic fury. He beat his breast with his clenched 
 hands, and called aloud to Genevra. " Lost ! Lost to 
 me, for ever ! Where, then, are her murderers ?" 
 
 A fierce spirit of vengeance rose from his heart, and 
 kindled a quenchless fire in his brain. He thought of the 
 long intrigue the ruin the death which those monsters 
 of crime had wrought ; and lifting his eyes to Heaven, 
 with his mangled hands clasped upon his breast, he cried,
 
 406 THE PETER THE HERMIT OP THE CRUSADE. 
 
 "ALMIGHTY GOD, WITNESS ME! FOR I SWEAR IN 
 THY PRESENCE, AND BY MY LOST AND MURDERED GENE- 
 VRA, THAT MY HEART AND MY HANDS, MY LIFE, MY FOR 
 TUNE, AND MY SACRED HONOR, ARE FREELY OFFERED A 
 SACRIFICE TO MY COUNTRY. THIS LAND OF LlGHT, 
 TRUTH, AND LIBERTY, SHALL SUFFER UNDER THE 
 BLIGHTING CURSE OF DEMAGOGUES, JESUITISM, AND 
 FOREIGN INFLUENCE NO LONGER. BE THOU MY 
 HELPER!" 
 
 The cold, grey twilight had now brought in the dawn 
 ing of a day, that was to save the Republic of Wash 
 ington. 
 
 ' >'" -i- ; =V=) S
 
 Papal Tyranny and Protestant Freedom 
 
 " N'o American AT THIS jxrscTtrRE ought to be ignorant 
 of its contents." PEOF. "WAYLAND. 
 
 WEISS'S GREAT HISTORY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 FRENCH PROTESTANT REFUGEES. 
 
 WITH AN AMERICAN APPENDIX. 
 
 In two volumes, Ylmo. Price, $2 50. 
 
 This profoundly entertaining and instructive work has created an 
 impression on the American mind more deep and lasting than any 
 other production of our time. There are no dramas in the world's 
 history of more thrilling interest than this intensely absorbing nar 
 rative of the fortunes of the noble Huguenot sufferers in the cause of 
 religious freedom. No true American needs to be reminded of the 
 importance of disseminating at this critical juncture this record of 
 Papal persecution, murder, and tyranny. Eulogies have been pro 
 nounced on this rare production, by the highest renowned authori 
 ties in literature, and the most eminent Divines and Statesmen have 
 commended it in the most rapturous and emphatic terms. In the 
 frontispiece is an accurate Portrait of the cruel Pope Pius V., and a 
 fac-simile of the execrable medal struck by Gregory XIII., to celebrate 
 the frightful massacre of St. Bartholomew. Annexed, we subjoin a 
 few brief extracts from eminent persons : 
 
 " No American citizen onght to be ignorant of its contents. "We live in an age 
 in which the Church of Rome is girding herself for a deadly conflict with Protes 
 tantism ; for the shock of this contest it behooves all who love the Reformation to be 
 prepared, and we know of no book in literature better adapted to promote this end 
 than this bibtory, in which M. Weiss has set before us the true nature and epirit of 
 Romanism, and warns us against what we may expect in this land should she ever 
 gain the ascendency here. The book is eminently one for the present times.'' Fi'om 
 Prof Wayland. 
 
 "Whatever relates to the History of the Church of Rome, cannot fail, at this 
 juncture, to be of the deepest interest to the world at large, and to this nation espe 
 cially ; inasmuch as now, more (if possible) than ever, she seeks with untiring vigi 
 lance by every art and power at her command, to every where spread her iron arm, 
 and make strong her crushing grasp in both a political and ecclesiastical aspect 
 The perusal of this history gives a minute and comprehensive exhibit of the Pupal 
 policy, and of the human condition where its sway reached during its predominance 
 from the 16th to the 17th century." From the JRev. Gideon . Perry, D. D., LL. D. 
 
 " In a day when the Protestant world is so intensely awake to the enormous 
 claims, and pretensions, and frauds of Popery, the work of Weiss is a book for tho 
 times." From the Rev, N. Murnay (Kirwan), D. D. 
 
 " Such an array of information can be found nowhere else, and is full of thrilling 
 interest and dread warning." From the Ren. George B. Cheever, D. D. 
 
 " It is opportunely produced, at a period when Europe and America are con 
 vulsed with debates respecting the radical principles of civil and religious liberty." 
 from the Ret. II. A. Soarclman, D. D. 
 
 Published by STRINGER & TOWNSEND, 222 Broadway, If. Y., 
 
 And for tal* by all tin principal BookteUort.
 
 " They should find a place ID every American's Library." D.Webster. 
 
 ty Announcement to the American People. 
 
 NOW PUBLISHING A NEW AND IMPROVED EDITION OF 
 
 THE ENTIRE WORKS OF 
 
 J. FENIMORE COOPER, 
 
 With all his Latest Corrections and Revisions, entitled 
 
 The People's Edition, 
 
 WITH AN ELABORATE LIFE OF THE AUTHOR, IN ONE UNIFORM VOLUME. 
 
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