"Ay! Father calls it rank Popery. I listened many a time he never
guessed, hid away in the Holy Hole, or within old Bishop Wykeham's
little house."

"Ah, Peregrine, could an imp of evil brook to lie hidden in the Holy
Hole behind the very altar?" said Mrs. Woodford. "But I hear Nick
bringing in supper, and I must leave you for the present. God in
His mercy bless you, His poor child, and lead you in His ways."

As she went Peregrine muttered, "Is that a prayer? It is not like
father's."

She was anxious to consult her brother-in-law on the strange mood of
her patient. She found that he had heard more than he had told her
of what Major Oakshott deemed the hopeless wickedness of his son,
the antics at prayers, the hatred of everything good, the spiteful
tricks that were the family torment. No doubt much was due to the
boy's entire belief in his own elfship, and these two good people
seriously considered how to save him from himself.

"If we could only keep him here," said Mrs. Woodford, "I think we
might bring him to have some faith and love in God and man."

"You could, dear sister," said the Doctor, smiling affectionately;
"but Major Oakshott would never leave his son in our house. He
abhors our principles too much, and besides, it is too near home.
All the servants have heard rumours of this cruel fable, and would
ascribe the least misadventure to his goblin origin. I must ride
over to Oakwood and endeavour to induce his father to remove him to
safe and judicious keeping."