Tho priest uttered a short prayer, but their conduct so completely perplexed and shocked him, that he rose up, and with tears in his eyes, exclaimed-- "I am now an old man, and have witnessed many instances of error, and sin, and deep crime, but never before have I seen in persons of your early years, such instances--such awful, terrible instances--of that impenitence in which the heart, setting aside God and his sacred ordinances, is given over to the hardness of final reprobation.

I can do no more, as the ambassador of Christ, but I must not stand by and see a fellow-creature--oh! thank God," he exclaimed, "a thought recurs to my mind which had for a time passed out of it.

My good friend," he said, addressing old M'Loughlin, "will you bring Mary in, if she is able to come--say I request to see her here." "We will go now," said the eldest, "you can want us no longer." "You shall not go," replied Father Roche firmly, "if you are men, stay--or, if cowards, who are afraid to look into the depths of your own dark designs, you will and may go--we want you not." This language perplexed them, but they stood as before, and moved not.
In a few minutes Mary came in, leaning on her father's arm; but, ah! what a change from the elegant outline and clear, healthy cheek--from the red plump lips, and dark mellow eyes, which carried fascination in every glance and grace in every motion! Sweet, and beautiful, and interesting, she still unquestionably was, but her pale cheek, languid eye, and low tremulous voice, told a tale, which, when the cause of it was reflected on, had literally scorched up out of her brother's hearts every remaining vestige of humanity.
"Mary," said the priest, we have requested your presence, my child, for a most important purpose--and, in communicating that purpose to you, we indeed give the strongest proof of our confidence in your firmness and good sense--nay, I will add, in the truth and fervor of your dependence on the sustaining power of religion." "In my own strength or discretion I will never depend more," she replied, sighing deeply.
"You must exert great courage and firmness now, then," rejoined Father Roche; "In the first place, you are about to have a disclosure made which will be apt to shock you; and, in the next place, I have only to say, that it is the absolute necessity of your knowing it, in order to prevent dreadful consequences from ensuing upon it, that forces us to make you cognizant of it at all." "I trust I shall endeavor at least to bear it," she returned; "I am not strong, and I do not think that too much preparation will add to my strength." "I agree with you, my child," said Father Roche, "and have only made such as I deemed indispensably necessary.

The fact then is, my poor girl, that your brothers meditate violence against that most base and wicked person who--" "I know, sir, the person to whom you allude; but I will thank you, if you can avoid it, not to name him." "I have no such intention," replied the good man, "but bad and profligate as he is, it is still worse that your three brothers should propose such violence." "But what do you mean by violence--of course violence of any description is beneath them.

Surely,--John, you would not stoop--" She looked at them as she spoke, and, as before, there was no mistaking the meaning of the cold and deadly smile which lay upon their lips, and contrasted so strongly and strangely with their kindling eyes.
"What fearful expression is this," she asked, with evident terror and trepidation; "my dear brothers, what does this mean ?--that is, if you be my brothers, for I can scarcely recognize you--what is it, in the name of heaven ?" The brothers looked at her, but spoke not, nor moved.
"They have taken an oath, Mary, to wipe out your shame in his blood," added the priest.
She immediately rose up without aid, and approached them.
"This is not true, my dear brothers," said she, "this cannot be true--deny it for your sister." "We cannot deny it, Mary," said John, "for it is true, and must be done--our vengeance is ripe, hot, burning, and will wait no longer." "John," said she, calmly, "recollect 'vengeance is mine, saith the Lord, and I will repay it.'" "I told them so," said their father, "but I receive no attention at their hands." "Vengeance is ours," said John, in a deeper and more determined voice than he had ever uttered, "vengeance is ours, and we shall repay it." The others repeated his words as before.
"Obstinate and unhappy young men," said the priest, "you know not, or you forget, that this is blasphemy." "This, my dear sir," observed their sister, getting still more deadly,pale than before, "is not blasphemy, it is insanity--my three brothers are insane; that is it.