th a deep
sigh. "In me you see a fugitive from the wrath of the cardinal. I
left Oxford at dawn of day, and have fled apace through the wildest
paths ever since. I am weary and worn with travel, and seeing this
light gleaming forth, I thought I would seek here for rest and
shelter; but little did I hope to find one of the brethren in this
lonely cabin, and one who may himself suffer in the cause of truth
and righteousness."

"We shall not suffer more than the Lord did," answered the old man,
with a sudden illumination of feature, "nor more than He sees good
for us. It may be that He wants His martyrs in all generations and
in all lands. Does it not speak somewhere in the blessed Book of
being made perfect through suffering?"

It was wonderful to Garret to find such depth of comprehension and
power of expression in this apparently illiterate and humble old
man. To be sure, his accent was rough and homely, but the thoughts
to which he gave utterance were deep and pure.

Soon Garret found himself sitting over the turf fire, sipping
gratefully at the warm milk, in which his bread lay soaked, and
telling the old man the whole history of his wanderings, his peril,
and his doubts about the plan laid down for him with regard to the
curacy he had been offered.

The more he talked, the more did Garret revolt against the idea of
presenting himself to Master Dalaber in Dorsetshire under a false
name and in false colours. He could not believe that this could be
pleasing to God, and he saw that the old shepherd, though diffident
of speech, was of the same opinion.

"I will not do it," he said at last, "I will not do it. I cannot. I
will retrace my steps to Oxford, but will use all care and
discretion to avoid notice. They will by this time have discovered
my flight, and Oxford is the last place in which they will now be
seeking me. I will enter it by night, slip into one of my old
hiding places there, get speech with Anthony Dalaber, and tell him
how I have changed my plan, so that he may know I am not with his
brother. Then I will put off my priest's garb, and sally forth in
the night, and make my way over to Wales, and then to Germany,
where I can work with the faithful there, and perchance be of
greater use to the cause than in this land, where for the present I
am so watched and hunted.

"This priest's garb has become hateful to me. I feel in it as
though I were acting a lie, albeit I shall ever hold myself the
minister