"Be assured I never will," continued Bulgin--"now, what do you intend to do? Expose me and ruin this poor creature here?"--"Don't call me a poor creature, you brute!" indignantly interrupted Julia. "Publish me in the papers, dismiss me from the church, give my name to be a by-word in the mouths of scoffers and infidels? Gravely, gentlemen, is that what you mean to do? Let us reflect a little. You pay me a good salary; I preach you good sermons. Granted. My practice may be a little loose, but, is not my doctrine orthodox? Where can you get a preacher who will draw larger crowds? And is it worth your while, merely on account of a little weakness like this,"--he pointed to Julia,--"to disgrace me and the church together?" The Doctor saw by their faces, that he had made an impression. They conversed together in low tones, and with much earnestness. Meanwhile, Julia sobbed and Bulgin took another glass of champagne. "Will you solemnly promise,"--Burns knocked his cane on the floor, and emphasised each word, "to be more careful of your conduct in the future, in case we overlook the present offense?" "Cordially, gentlemen, and upon my honor!" cried Bulgin, rising from his seat, "I will take Julia quietly home, and to-morrow commence life anew. I give you my hand upon it." He advanced, and shook them by the hand. "If you keep your word, this will suit me," said Burns, with gloomy cordiality. "And me," echoed Watkins. "And me," responded Potts. "But it will not suit me!" cried a strange voice, which started the whole company to their feet. The voice came from behind the hangings which concealed the bed. It was a firm voice, and deep as a well. "It will not suit me, I say," and from the hangings the unknown speaker emerged with a measured stride. He was a tall man, somewhat bent in the shoulders, and wore a long cloak, of an _antique_ fashion, which was fastened to his neck by a golden clasp. His white hairs were covered by an old-fashioned fur-cap; his eyes hidden by large green glasses, and the furred collar of his cloak, concealed the lower part of his face. An aged man, evidently, as might be seen by his snow-white hair, and the wrinkles on the exposed portion of his face, but his step was strong and measured, and his voice firm and clear. "And who are _you_?" cried Bulgin, recovering from his surprise. His remark was chorused by the others. "A pew-holder in your church," emphatically exclaimed the cloaked individual. "Let that suffice you. Gentlemen,"--turning his back on Bulgin, he lifted his cap and exposed his forehead to the three gentlemen,--"you know me?" With one impulse, they pronounced a name; and it was plainly to be seen that they respected that name, and its owner.