Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 12, 2025
"I say nothing, Sir Robert," he replied; "but I think occasionally." "Well, and what do you think occasionally?" "Why, that the times may change." "Whitecraft," said Smellpriest, "I work upon higher principles than they say you do.
Smellpriest, on the other hand, was said to have been equally attached to the political principles of the noble captain, and to wonder why any clergyman should be suffered to live in the country but those of her own Church; such delightful men, for instance, as their curate, the Rev. Samson Strong, who was nothing more nor less than a divine bonfire in the eyes of the Christian! world.
He held a candle in his hand, and asked them, in a calm, composed voice, what it was they wanted, and why they thus came to disturb him and his family at such an unseasonable hour. "Why, you treasonable old scoundrel," shouted Smellpriest, "haven't you got a rebel and recusant Popish priest in the house?
Whether it was the effort necessary to speak, in addition to the excitement occasioned by his suspicions, and whether these suspicions were well founded or not, we do not presume to say; but the fact was, that, after another outgulp of blood had come up, he drew a long, deep sigh, his under-jaw fell, and the wretched, half-penitent Captain Smellpriest breathed his last.
Samson Strong made his appearance in Smellpriest's house with a warrant, or something in the shape of one, which he placed in the gallant captain's hands, who was drunk. "What's this, oh, Samson the Strong? said Smellpriest, laughing and hiccuping both at the same time. "It's a hunt, my dear friend.
"I don't exactly understand you, captain," replied the old man, who appeared to know Smellpriest right well. "I don't think it's to my house you should come to look for a priest." "Why not, you villain? I have been directed here, and told that I would find my game under your roof."
"Very well, sir," replied the servant, "I shall do so." This occurred on the day of Whitecraft's visit to Squire Folliard, and it was on the evening of the same that Smellpriest was sent upon the usual chase, on the information of the Rev. Samson Strong; so that the events to which we have alluded occurred, as if by some secret relation to each other, on the same day.
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?" "I have described the dress accurately," replied the sheriff; "but I am certain that it was not Reilly.
Imagine for a moment that those who are now, or at least have been, the objects of hot and blood-scenting persecution, had, by some political revolution, got the power of the State and of the laws into their own hands; suppose, for it is easily supposed, that they had stripped you of your property, deprived you of your civil rights, disarmed you of the means of self-defence, persecuted yourselves and proscribed your religion, or, vice versa, proscribed yourselves and persecuted your religion, or, to come at once to the truth, proscribed and persecuted both; suppose your churches shut up, your pious clergy banished, and that, when on the bed of sickness or of death, some of your family, hearing your cries for the consolations of religion, ventured out, under the clouds of the night, pale with sorrow, and trembling with apprehension, to steal for you, at the risk of life, that comfort which none but a minister of God can effectually bestow upon the parting spirit; suppose this, and suppose that your house is instantly surrounded by some cruel but plausible Sir Robert Whitecraft, or some drunken and ruffianly Captain Smellpriest, who, surrounded and supported by armed miscreants, not only breaks open that house, but violates the awful sanctify of the deathbed itself, drags out the minister of Christ from his work of mercy, and leaves him a bloody corpse at our threshold.
I dare not! Here, now, I spread out my arms fire!" "I also," said Reilly, "will partake of whatever fate may befall the venerable clergyman who is before you," and he stood up side by side with the bishop. The guns were still levelled, the fingers of the men on the triggers, when Smellpriest shouted out, "Ground arms!
Word Of The Day
Others Looking