"Come," said the despairing man--"come--there is a shelter for you, but
no peace!--food, and drink, and raiment, but no peace!--no peace!" As he
uttered these words, in a voice that sank to its deepest pitch, he took
her hand, and they both departed to his own residence.
The amazement and horror of those who were assembled in Bartley's house
cannot be described. Our readers may be assured that they deepened in
character as they spread through the parish. An undefined, fear of this
mysterious pair seized upon the people, for their images were associated
in their minds with darkness and crime, and supernatural communion. The
departing words of Father Philip rang in their ears: they trembled,
and devoutly crossed themselves, as fancy again repeated the awful
exclamation of the priest--"No peace! no peace!"
When Father Philip and his unhappy associate went home, he instantly
made her a surrender of his small property; but with difficulty did
he command sufficient calmness to accomplish even this. He was
distracted--his blood seemed to have been turned to fire--he clenched
his hands, and he gnashed his teeth, and exhibited the wildest symptoms
of madness. About ten o'clock he desired fuel for a large fire to be
brought into the kitchen, and got a strong cord, which he coiled and
threw carelessly on the table.
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