"Your son is ours also, sir. This is strange language in one who owes a
debt to the Church, which it was charitably fancied he meant to pay in
the person of his child."

These last words touched poor Mr. Leigh in a sore point, and breaking
all bounds, he swore roundly at Parsons, who stood foaming with rage.

"A plague upon you, sir, and a black assizes for you, for you will come
to the gallows yet! Do you mean to taunt me in my own house with that
Hartland land? You had better go back and ask those who sent you where
the dispensation to hold the land is, which they promised to get me
years ago, and have gone on putting me off, till they have got my money,
and my son, and my conscience, and I vow before all the saints, seem now
to want my head over and above. God help me!"--and the poor man's eyes
fairly filled with tears.

Now was Eustace's turn to be roused; for, after all, he was an
Englishman and a gentleman; and he said kindly enough, but firmly--

"Courage, my dearest father. Remember that I am still your son, and not
a Jesuit yet; and whether I ever become one, I promise you, will depend
mainly on the treatment which you meet with at the hands of these
reverend gentlemen, for whom I, as having brought them hither, must
consider myself as surety to you."

If a powder-barrel had exploded in the Jesuits' faces, they could not
have been more amazed. Campian looked blank at Parsons, and Parsons at
Campian; till the stouter-hearted of the two, recovering his breath at
last--