“It cannot—­it cannot be,” said Alice, faltering.  “Think what I, the cause of all, should feel when your father frowns, your mother weeps, your noble friends stand aloof, and you—­even you—­shall have made the painful discovery that you have incurred the resentment of all to satisfy a boyish passion.  Farewell, then, Julian; but first take the solemn advice which I impart to you:  shun my father—­you cannot walk in his paths; leave this island, which will soon be agitated by strange incidents; while you stay be on your guard, distrust everything——­”

Alice broke off suddenly, and with a faint shriek.  Once more her father stood unexpectedly before them.

“I thank you, Alice,” he said solemnly to his daughter, “for the hints you have thrown out; and now retire, and let me complete the conference which you have commenced.”

“I go, sir,” said Alice.  “Julian, to you my last words are:  Farewell and caution!”

She turned from them, and was seen no more.

Bridgenorth turned to Peveril.  “You are willing to lead my only child into exile from her native country, to give her a claim to the kindness and protection from your family, which you know will be disregarded, on condition I consent to bestow her hand on you, with a fortune sufficient to have matched that of your ancestors when they had most reason to boast of their wealth.  This, young man, seems no equal bargain.  And yet, so little do I value the goods of this world, that it might not be utterly beyond thy power to reconcile me to the match which you have proposed.”

“Show me but the means, Major Bridgenorth,” said Peveril, “and you shall see how eagerly I will obey your directions, or submit to your conditions.”

“This is a critical period,” cried the major; “it becomes the duty of all men to step forward.  You, Julian Peveril, yourself know the secret but rapid strides which Rome has made to erect her Dagon of idolatry within our Protestant land.”

“I trust to live and die in the faith of the reformed Church of England,” said Peveril.  “I have seen popery too closely to be friendly to its tenets.”

“Enough,” said Bridgenorth, “that I find thee not as yet enlightened with the purer doctrine, but willing to uplift thy testimony against the errors and arts of the Church of Rome.  At present thy prejudices occupy thy mind like the strong keeper of the house mentioned in Scripture.  But, remember, thou wilt soon be called upon to justify what thou hast said, and I trust to see thy name rank high amongst those by whom the prey shall be rent from the mighty.”

“You have spoken to me in riddles, Major Bridgenorth,” said Peveril; “and I have asked for no explanation.  But we do not part in anger?”

“Not in anger, my son,” answered Bridgenorth, “but in love and strong affection.  I accept not thy suit, neither do I reject it; only he that would be my son must first show himself the true and loving child of his oppressed and deluded country.  Farewell; thou shalt hear of me sooner than thou thinkest for.”