py conversion of
Friar Roger, by means of the letters he had written from Antwerp, and
that he desired once more to meet with him.

A gleam of satisfaction passed over the countenance of Overton.

"I trust it is so," he answered; "and yet it may be prudent in me not to
place myself in his power until I am sure of his fidelity." He then
inquired what had brought me to Norwich. I at once told him the secret
object of our visit, mentioning the name of the unhappy lady who had
been put to death.

"Barbara Radford, did you say? Alas! alas! has she been murdered by
these bloodthirsty bigots? Tell me how she looked; what she said. My
sister, my dear sister, you were ever true and faithful! It would have
rejoiced your heart to know that the brother you ever treated so
affectionately had been brought to a knowledge of the truth. But oh!
Ernst Verner, think what are my feelings when I tell you that it was I,
in my blindness and bigotry, who first brought the family of the
Radfords before the notice of the cruel Bonner as firm and
uncompromising Protestants. Yet I loved my sister as much as any priest
of Rome, imbued with its principles, can entertain love; but I thought
it right to crush all such feelings, for the sake of advancing the cause
I advocated. In what a different light do I now view such conduct!"

"The great Apostle Paul was a fearful persecutor, and yet he became one
of the most mighty instruments in God's hands for spreading the truth,"
I replied.

"Yes, yes; but it becomes not me to liken myself to such a man," he
answered. "You say that you believe that my sister's child is even now
in this town? Then my heart did not deceive me. Not many days ago I
met a lovely little girl in the family of some poor Flemish weavers.
They told me that she was not their own child, but that they felt
themselves bound to support her as if she were, and would sacrifice all
that they possess rather than allow her to want. I made no further
inquiries then, for a stranger coming in they were silent. Yet I well
remember that while I spoke to her, a look came over her countenance
which reminded me of my once-loved sister. I thought it was fancy, and
banished it from my mind. I now feel sure that my feelings did not
mislead me. But I cannot leave my work. I owe my safety, I believe, to
never going forth during the day; for so well-known are my features,
that I might be recognised. When evening sets in, return hither,