"Pooh, pooh! what Is the use of that?" exclaimed the doctor, laughing. "I know where you are taking me, just as well as you do. I would not have gone so quietly if I had thought you were taking me into the lion's den except by a back way. Why, the priest's chamber, and the way in and out, has been a tradition at the rectory ever since those puritanical times when many an honest parson was forced to take refuge from skull-cap and Geneva, broadsword and bandolier. There used to be a key up at the church; but, by Jove, my predecessor was fool enough to give it to Sir John. How you got in, I cannot make out." Smeaton did not think it necessary to explain, but led the parson on, and found Van Noost at the well with the door open. Doctor Thickett was, with some difficulty, got across the water; and then, when the door was closed, a match was kindled and a lamp lighted. "Now tread cautiously," said Smeaton, leading the way, with the light in his hand. When they entered the priest's room, however, it was still vacant; and, trusting to the promises he had received, the young nobleman did not venture to proceed any farther. "This has been a chapel once, I think," observed Doctor Thickett, looking round the room. "Some notice of it is in the books up at the church. There," added he, pointing to one of the sides, "is where the communion-table must have stood." Smeaton held up his finger to enjoin silence; and, in a minute or two after, a slight sound was heard at the extremity of the room adjoining the next chamber. Cautiously, and as noiselessly as possible, the state bed in the other room was drawn back, and the door which it concealed was opened. All eyes were turned to that side, and there was certainly some emotion, if not some anxiety, in the breast of each. The light shone, however, upon the figure of the old housekeeper, who advanced quietly, holding Emmeline by the hand. The poor girl trembled a good deal, with agitation rather than fear, and her face was very pale. But Smeaton advanced at once, and took her hand, whispering some low tender words, which instantly called her eyes to his face, and the warm glow into her cheek again. Mrs. Culpepper had stopped the moment they were in the room; and now, looking anxiously in her foster-son's face, she whispered--"What an awful night it is, my lord! Everything is ready; but--" "It is quite impossible," interrupted Smeaton, "to expose this dear girl on the sea in such a tempest; still, as this worthy clergyman has come here to perform the ceremony, the marriage had better take place to-night; and, before to-morrow, I trust the wind will have gone down. What say you, dearest Emmeline?" "Oh, certainly," replied Emmeline. "I shall feel more happy--more--more certain of what I am doing, and what is right to do, when I am your wife, than I do now. Besides, new difficulties might spring up."