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a moment." He ran quickly out of the precincts, and into the first baker's shop he saw, where he bought a small loaf of bread. Into it he pushed five fourpenny pieces, then called groats, and very commonly current. Then he fixed the loaf on the end of his staff, and so passed it through the bars to Alice. This was all he could do. "My poor dear heart, hast thou had no company in all this time?" "I have had Satan's company a weary while," she answered, "but this last night he fled away, and the Lord alone is with me." "God be praised!" said Roger. "And how farest thou?" "Very ill touching the body; very well touching the soul." "What matter can I bring thee to thy comfort?" "What I lack most is warmth and cleanly covering. I have no chance even to wash me, and no clothes to shift me. But thou canst bring me nought, Hodge, I thank thee, and I beseech thee, essay it not. How fares little Christie?--and be all friends well?" "All be well, I thank the Lord, and Christie as her wont is. It shall do her a power of good to hear thou art found. Dost know when thou shalt appear before the Bishop?" "That do I not, Hodge. It will be when God willeth, and to the end He willeth; and all that He willeth is good. I have but to endure to the end: He shall see to all the rest. Farewell, dear brother; it were best that thou shouldst not tarry." As Roger came within sight of Staplehurst on his return, he saw a woman walking rapidly along the road to meet him, and when he came a little nearer, he perceived that it was Tabitha. Gently urging his horse forward, they met in a few minutes. The expression of Tabitha's face alarmed Roger greatly. She was not wont to look so moved and troubled. Grim and sarcastic, even angry, he had seen her many times; but grieved and sorrowful--this was not like Tabitha. Roger's first fear was that she had come to give him some terrible news of Christie. Yet her opening words were not those of pain or terror. "The Lord be thanked you were not here this day, Roger Hall!" was Tabitha's strange greeting. "What hath happed?" demanded Roger, stopping his horse. "What hath happed is that Staplehurst is swept nigh clean of decent folks. Sheriffs been here--leastwise his man, Jeremy Green--and took off a good dozen of Gospellers." "Tom--Christie?" fell tremulously from Roger's lips. "Neither of them. I looked to _them_, and old Jeremy knows me. I heard tell of their c
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