“Well,” said he, after musing for a while, “so you say Smellpriest is after you?”

“He is, sir; they saw me at a distance, across the country, scrambling over the park wall, and indeed I was near falling into their hands by the difficulty I had in getting over it.”

“Well, come,” replied the squire, “since you have had the courage to place confidence in me, I won’t abuse it; come along, I will both conceal and protect you.  I presume there is little time to be lost, for those priest hounds will be apt to ride round to the entrance gate, which I will desire the porter to close and lock, and then leave the lodge.”

On their way home he did so, and ordered the porter up to the house.  The magnificent avenue was a serpentine one, and our friends had barely time to get out of sight of the lodge, by a turn in it, when they heard the voices of the pursuers, hallooing for the porter, and thundering at the gate.

“Ay, thunder away, only don’t injure my gate, Smellpriest, or I’ll make you replace it; bawl yourselves hoarse—­you are on the wrong side for once!”

When they were approaching the hall-door, which generally lay open—­

“Confound me,” said the squire, “if I know what to do with you; I trust in God I won’t get into odium by this.  At all events, let us steal upstairs as quietly as we can, and, if possible, without any one seeing us.”

To the necessity of this the priest assented, and they had reached the first landing of the staircase when out popped right in their teeth two housemaids each with brush in hand.  Now it instantly occurred to the squire that in this unlucky crisis bribery was the safest resource.  He accordingly addressed them: 

“Come here, you jades, don’t say a word about this man’s presence here—­don’t breathe it; here’s five shillings apiece for you, and let one of you go and bring me up, secretly, the key of the green-room in the garret; it has not been opened for some time.  Be quick now; or stay, desire Lanigan to fetch it, and refreshment also; there’s cold venison and roast beef, and a bottle of wine; tell Lanigan I’m going to lunch, and to lay the table in my study.  Lanigan can be depended on,” he added, after the chambermaid had gone, “for when I concealed another priest here once, he was entrusted with the secret, and was faithful.”

Now it so happened that one of those maids, who was a bitter Protestant, at once recognized Father Maguire, notwithstanding his disguise.  She had been a servant for four or five years in the house of a wealthy farmer who lived adjoining him, and with whom he had been in the habit of frequently dining when no danger was to be apprehended from the operation of the laws.  Indeed, she and Malcomson, the gardener, were the only two individuals in the squire’s establishment who were not Catholics.  Malcomson was a manoeuvrer, and, as is pretty usual with individuals of his class and country, he looked upon “Papistry”