In this situation matters were, when about eleven o'clock the next morning, Father Roche, who, from the beginning, had been there to aid and console, as was his wont, wherever calamity or sorrow called upon him, made his appearance in the family, much to the relief of M'Loughlin's mind, who dreaded the gloomy deed which his sons had proposed to themselves to execute, and who knew besides, that in this good and pious priest he had a powerful and eloquent ally.

After the first salutations had passed, M'Loughlin asked for a private interview with him; and when they had remained about a quarter of an hour together, the three sons were sent for, all of whom entered with silent and sullen resolution strongly impressed on their stern, pale, and immovable features.

Father Roche himself was startled even into something like terror, when he witnessed this most extraordinary change in the whole bearing and deportment of the young men, whom he had always known so buoyant and open-hearted.
"My dear young friends," said he, calmly and affectionately, "your father has just disclosed to me a circumstance, to which, did it not proceed from his lips, I could not yield credit.

Is it true that you have come to the most unchristian and frightful determination of shedding blood ?" "Call it just and righteous," said John, calmly.
"Yes," followed the other two, "it is both." "In his cowardly crime he has evaded the responsibility of law," continued John, "and we care not if his punishment goes beyond law itself.

We will answer for it with our lives--but in the mean time, he must die." "You see, Father Roche," observed M'Loughlin, "to what a hardened state the strong temptations of the devil has brought them." "It is not that," said John; "it is affection for our injured sister, whom he has doubly murdered--it is also hatred of himself, and of the oppression we are receiving in so many shapes at his hands.