At this moment, and just as they were arrived at the darkest part of the road, three or four men well-armed and masked rushed from the wood and confronted them, seizing the bridle of Jack's horse and commanding them all to stand. The sumner and his men, confused, half drunk, and wholly frightened, did as they were bid. "By what authority do you stop men on the highway?" asked the sumner in a quivering voice. "By the authority of our Master!" answered the leader of the band in an extraordinary deep voice. "This youth is an heretic, and belongs to our Master as his rightful prize. Over you we have no power unless you resist us, but if you do so you are ours;" concluding with a deep growl, "Ride on, and look not back, and we shall do you no harm." The sumner and his companions lost no time in obeying the command, nor did they once look backward till they had left the dreadful wood far behind them. Arrived at home, they told fearful tale of a band of robbers, at least twenty in numbers, and of unheard-of height and appearance, who demanded the prisoner as an heretic in the name of their master. The sumner more than insinuated that the leader was no mortal man and that the heretic had been carried off by the devil whom he served. Our readers will naturally desire an explanation of this sudden change of affairs. The day on which Thomas Sprat was condemned, Father John who seemed suddenly to have grown twenty years younger, rode over to visit his old friend and college companion, the bishop. After some gossip, Father John spoke of Father Barnaby's return and the clean work he was making of heresy over in Bridgewater. The bishop was an old man, very infirm, and somewhat childish, but excessively jealous over his episcopal dignity, and very indignant at any infringement thereof, especially by the monks and preaching friars. He grew angry at once, wondered what that upstart was thinking of, and declared that he would not have his poor people hunted and imprisoned by any Jack in office of them all, and that Father Barnaby should know. Just at this juncture arrived Lord Harland, ostensibly with a present of rare and valuable foreign books, but really on the same errand as Father John. He understood the hint on the instant, and took pains to blow the coal already kindled, till the bishop was roused to the point of summoning his secretary and dictating a sharp letter to Father Barnaby, which he declared should be sent the first thing in the morning. The next day the young Harlands contrived to fall in with the messengers, and by judicious and liberal treatment, secured all the information they wanted. The rest may easily be guessed.