“How could you doubt it, sir, when you know the incredible extent of his villany, both private and public? and yet this is the man to whom you would have married your daughter!”

“No; when I found Helen reduced to such a state the morning on which they were to be married, I told her at once that as she felt so bitterly against him I would never suffer him to become her husband.  Neither will I; if he were acquitted tomorrow I would tell him so; but you, Reilly, love my daughter for her own sake.”

“For her own sake, sir, as you have said, I love her.  If she had millions, it could not increase my affection, and if she had not a penny, it would not diminish it.”

“Well, but you can have her if you wish, notwithstanding.”

Reilly first looked at him with amazement; but he was so thoroughly acquainted with his character, both from what he had seen and heard of it, that his amazement passed away, and he simply replied: 

“Pray how, sir?”

“Why, I’ll tell you what, Reilly; except with respect to political principles, I don’t think, after all, that there’s the difference of a a rush between the Papist and the Protestant Churches, as mere religions.  My own opinion is, that there’s neither of them any great shakes, as to any effect they have on society, unless to disturb it.  I have known as good Papists as ever I did Protestants, and indeed I don’t know why a Papist should not be as good a man as a Protestant; nor why a Protestant should not be as good a man as a Papist, on the other hand.  Now, do you see what I’m driving at?”

“Well, I can’t exactly say that I do,” replied Reilly.

[Illustration:  PAGE 157—­There is not a toss-up between them]

“Then the upshot of the argument is this, that there is not a toss-up between them, and any man getting into a scrape, and who could get out of it by changing from one to the other—­of course I mean from Popery to Protestantism—­would prove himself a man of good sound sense, and above the prejudices of the world.”

The truth is, Reilly saw ere this what Folliard was approaching, and, as he determined to allow him full scope, his reply was brief: 

“You seem fond of indulging in speculation, sir,” replied Reilly, with a smile; “but I should be glad to know why you introduce this subject to me?”

“To you?” replied Folliard; “why, who the devil else should or could I introduce it to with such propriety?  Here now are two religions; one’s not sixpence better nor worse than the other.  Now, you belong to one of them, and because you do you’re here snug and fast.  I say, then, I have a proposal to make to you:  you are yourself in a difficulty—­you have placed me in a difficulty—­and you have placed poor Helen in a difficulty—­which, if any thing happens you, I think will break her heart, poor child.  Now you can take her, yourself, and me, out of all our difficulties, if you have only sense enough to shove over from the old P——­ to the young P——.  As a Protestant, you can marry Helen, Reilly—­but as a Papist, never! and you know the rest; for if you are obstinate, and blind to your own interests, I must do my duty.”