THE VICARAGE. 301 



The door of the house was opened by a female 

 servant, followed by a respectable-looking old lady, 

 who bore evident marks of anxiety in her face. 



" My dear William," she said, " what has kept 

 you out so long. I have been quite alarmed about 

 you but bless me, here is company who are 

 they ?" The little history of their escape was soon 

 told, and with the greatest cordiality and kindness 

 they were invited into the house. 



" Let us be thankful for your escape," said the 

 good lady ; and now, William, call some one to 

 take care of the horse." This was soon done, and 

 they entered a large hall, gloomy for want of suf- 

 ficient light. After traversing three spacious rooms, 

 in which the good Vicar saw many old portraits, 

 they came to a smaller one, in which candles and 

 a blazing wood fire produced as much cheerfulness 

 as dark but shining oak wainscoting would permit. 



In a high-backed wicker chair, placed by the 

 side of the fire, sat a venerable-looking old man, 

 apparently about eighty-five years of age, having 

 a long white beard, and flowing white hair, dark 

 eyes, nearly devoid of expression, and features 

 which shewed that he must formerly have been 

 very handsome. On the entrance of the party, 

 he rose, bowed, and made signs for them to ap- 

 proach the fire. As they seated themselves in the 

 old-fashioned chairs, Mr. Neville, in a voice that 

 made them start, said 



