CHAPTER XIX.
Now, hoist the anchor, mates--and let the sails Give their broad bosom to the buxom wind, Like lass that woos a lover.
-- ANONYMOUS.
The presence of the Countess dispelled the superstitious feeling, which, for an instant, had encroached on Julian's imagination, and compelled him to give attention to the matters of ordinary life.

"Here are your credentials," she said, giving him a small packet, carefully packed up in a sealskin cover; "you had better not open them till you come to London.

You must not be surprised to find that there are one or two addressed to men of my own persuasion.

These, for all our sakes, you will observe caution in delivering." "I go your messenger, madam," said Peveril; "and whatever you desire me to charge myself with, of that I undertake the care.

Yet allow me to doubt whether an intercourse with Catholics will at this moment forward the purposes of my mission." "You have caught the general suspicion of this wicked sect already," said the Countess, smiling, "and are the fitter to go amongst Englishmen in their present mood.