me, but as to my presuming to do more than reply—it could not be thought of for a moment! A deep shade, in consequence; fell upon the father's brow.
Not exactly knowing what to do next at this juncture; unless it were to take my hat and my departure, my eye fell casually upon one of the large, coarsely-cut, stone imagoes standing in a corner of the room at my right hand. It was a lugubrious representation of some ancient saintly martyr, in modern pantaloons! on which said pantaloons were sculptured large and impressive drops of blood and water, proceeding from the agonised countenance. My gaze only rested on this singular object for one moment, and then I once more innocently regarded the priest.
Such a diabolical change surely never passed over human lineaments before, as showed itself in that priest's face in so short a space! Whether he had traced any irreverent expression in my countenance, I cannot say: he had seen nothing intentionally contemptuous in my demeanour towards the image, I feel quite sure. However this may have been, his aspect was so changed, that I felt a strong inclination to sketch him on the spot, for an
