There are mighty designs afloat, and men are called to make their choice betwixt God and Baal.

The ancient superstition--the abomination of our fathers--is raising its head, and flinging abroad its snares, under the protection of the princes of the earth; but she raises not her head unmarked or unwatched; the true English hearts are as thousands, which wait but a signal to arise as one man, and show the kings of the earth that they have combined in vain! We will cast their cords from us--the cup of their abominations we will not taste." "You speak in darkness, Master Bridgenorth," said Peveril.

"Knowing so much of me, you may, perhaps, also be aware, that I at least have seen too much of the delusions of Rome, to desire that they should be propagated at home." "Else, wherefore do I speak to thee friendly and so free ?" said Bridgenorth.

"Do I not know, with what readiness of early wit you baffled the wily attempts of the woman's priest, to seduce thee from the Protestant faith?
Do I not know, how thou wast beset when abroad, and that thou didst both hold thine own faith, and secure the wavering belief of thy friend?
Said I not, this was done like the son of Margaret Peveril?
Said I not, he holdeth, as yet, but the dead letter--but the seed which is sown shall one day sprout and quicken ?--Enough, however, of this.

For to-day this is thy habitation.