“And you are an English peeress, Lola. There is not a coronet more safe upon a titled head than I can make yours,--can and will make,” added he, slowly. “But you must be patient; I must now speak to you, Lola, of themes in which you can take no interest, and subjects of which you know nothing. But listen to me attentively, and hear me; for fortune has not thus thrown us together without a meaning. “The hour is come, Lola, when heretics and infidels have determined on an attack of our faith; not as they have hitherto attempted, and with such signal failure, by the weapons of controversy and discussion, but by brute force; by the might of millions driven to madness from want and misgovernment To avert this terrible calamity is now the unceasing thought of the Church. Some have counselled one thing, some another; some would go forth to the fight, trusting that, as of old, God would not forget his people; there are others who deem this course presumptuous and unwise. The hearts of kings are not as they once were,--in their confessors' keeping. Our age and manners would send forth no crusade. The battle must be otherwise contested. You could not follow me, Lola, were I to tell you either of the perils or their antidotes. Enough that I say we must have trusty and faithful agents in every land of Europe, and in every rank in every people. From the secret whisperings of the Czar to the muttered discontent of the Irish peasant, we must know them all. To this end have we labored anxiously and eagerly for some time back, and already have we made great progress. From every Court of Europe we now receive tidings, and there is not a royal palace where our interests are unguarded. Some serve us for the glorious cause itself, some have their own price, some again are in our own hands from motives of self-interest or terror, but all are alike true. This Princess--this Dalton--I destined for a duty of the same nature. Married to a man of Midchekoff's wealth and influence, she might have done good service, but I scarcely dare to trust her; even at the sacrifice of herself she might fail me, and, although in my power, I cannot count upon her. Think, then, of my joy at finding you, one on whose fidelity I may hazard life itself. You can be all to me, and a thousand times more than ever she could.” “Your spy,” said the girl, steadily, but without the slightest semblance of anger. “My friend, my counsellor, my correspondent, Lola.” “And the price?” “You may name it. If your heart be set on mere worldly distinction, I will prove your marriage, and although Norwood is not rich, his country never neglects the class he belongs to. Would you break the tie, the bond is in my keeping.” “I never loved him,” cried she, passionately, “and you knew it. The marriage was one of those snares on which your mind never ceases to dwell--” “If you loved another, Lola--?” said he, interrupting, and then waiting for her to finish her speech.