ring these frequent
visits: but God kept him.

"Good den, Alice," he said as he took leave of her on the evening of
Saint Agnes' Day, the twenty-first of January. "I shall scarce,
methinks, win hither again this month; but when our Lady Day next
cometh, I will essay to see thee. Keep a good heart, my sister, and God
be with thee."

"I do so, Roger," replied Alice cheerily. "Mistress Potkin here is a
rare comfort unto me; and God is in Canterbury Gaol no less than at
Staplehurst. I would fain, 'tis true, have been able to come and
comfort Christie; but the Lord can send her a better help than mine.
Give my loving commendations to the sweet heart, and may God reward thee
for the brave comfort thou hast been to me all this winter! Farewell."

The next day, another and a less expected visitor presented himself. A
tired bay horse drooped its weary head at the door of the Bishop's
Palace, and a short, thick-set, black-haired man, with bushy eyebrows,
inquired if he might be allowed to speak with his Lordship. The Bishop
ordered him to be admitted.

"Well, and what would you, my son?" he asked condescendingly of the
applicant.

"An't like your Lordship, my name is Edward Benden, of Staplehurst, and
I do full reverently seek the release of my wife, that is in your gaol
for heresy."

The Bishop shook his head. He had before now held more than one
interview with Alice, and had found that neither promises nor threats
had much weight with her. Very sternly he answered--"She is an
obstinate heretic, and will not be reformed. I cannot deliver her."

"My Lord," responded Mr Benden, "she has a brother, Roger Hall, that
resorteth unto her. If your Lordship could keep him from her, she would
turn; for he comforteth her, giveth her money, and persuadeth her not to
return."

"Well!" said the Bishop. "Go home, good son, and I will see what I can
do." [This conversation is historical.]

If Mr Benden had not been in a brown study as he went into the Chequers
to "sup his four-hours"--in modern phrase, to have his tea--and to give
his horse a rest and feed before returning home, he would certainly have
recognised two people who were seated in a dark corner of the inn
kitchen, and had come there for the same purpose. The man kept his hat
drawn over his face, and slunk close into the corner as though he were
anxious not to be seen. The woman sat bolt upright, an enormous, full
basket on the table at her right hand, and