that the infamous and abandoned villain will suffer hereafter."
"There cannot be the least doubt of that," said the young man: "had he only robbed the mail coach, or broken into a gentleman's house, the offence might have been expiable;—but to rob a clergyman, and a rector, too! Oh, the sacrilegious dog!"
"Your warmth does you honour, Sir," said the Doctor, beginning now to recover, "and I am very proud to have made the acquaintance of a gentleman of such truly religious opinions!"
"Ah!" cried the stranger, "my foible, Sir—if I may so speak—is a sort of enthusiastic fervour for the Protestant Establishment—Nay, Sir, I never come across the very nave of the church, without feeling an indescribable emotion—a kind of sympathy, as it were,—with—with—you understand me, Sir—I fear I express myself ill."
"Not at all, not at all!" exclaimed the Doctor: "such sentiments are uncommon in one so young."
"Sir, I learned them early in life from a friend and preceptor of mine, Mr. M'Grawler, and I
