“Whitecraft,” said Smellpriest, “I work upon higher principles than they say you do. I hunt priests, no doubt of it; but then I have no personal malice against them; I proceed upon the broad and general principle of hatred to Popery: but, at the same time, observe it is not the man but the priest I pursue.” “And when you hang or transport the priest, what becomes of the man?” asked the baronet, with a diabolical sneer. “As for me, Smellpriest, I make no such distinctions; they are unworthy of you, and I'm sorry to hear you express them. I say, the man.” “And I say, the priest,” replied the other. “What do you say, my lord?” asked Mr. Folliard of the peer. “I don't much care which,” replied his lordship; “man or priest, be it as you can determine; only I say that when you hang the priest, I agree with Whitecraft there, that it is all up with the man, and when you hang the man, it is all up with the priest. By the way, Whitecraft,” he proceeded, “how would you like to swing yourself?” “I am sure, my lord,” replied the baronet, “you wouldn't wish to see me hanged.” “Well, I don't know--perhaps I might, and perhaps I might not; but I know you would make a long corpse, and I think you would dangle handsomely enough; you have long limbs, a long body, and half a mile of neck; upon my soul, one would think you were made for it. Yes, I dare say I should like to see you hanged--I am rather inclined to think I would--it's a subject, however, on which I am perfectly indifferent; but if ever you should be hanged, Sir Robert, I shall certainly make it a point to see you thrown off if it were only as a mark of respect for your humane and excellent character.” “He would be a severe loss to the country,” observed Sir Jenkins; “the want of his hospitality would be deeply felt by the gentry of the neighborhood; for which reason,” he observed sarcastically, “I hope he will be spared to us as long as his hospitality lasts.” “In the meantime, gentlemen,” observed the sheriff, “I wish that, with such keen noses for priests and rebels and criminals, you could come upon the trail of the scoundrel who robbed me of three hundred and fifty pounds.” “Would you know him again, Mr. Sheriff?” asked Sir Robert, “and could you describe his appearance?” “I have been turning the matter over,” replied the sheriff, “and I feel satisfied that I would know him if I saw him. He was dressed in a broadcloth brown coat, light-colored breeches, and had silver buckles in his shoes. The fellow was no common robber. Stuart--one of your dragoons, Sir Robert, who came to my relief when it was too late--insists, from my description of the dress, that it was Reilly.” “Are you sure he was not dressed in black?” asked Smellpriest. “Did you observe a beads or crucifix about him?”