ch a time. Comest thou with news?"

Walter Cole was the speaker. His face too wore something of the
look which Cuthbert had observed on the father's the previous
evening--an expression of strained expectancy, as if with long
waiting mind and spirit had alike grown worn and over anxious. The
bright eyes scanned his face eagerly. Cuthbert felt half ashamed of
his ignorance of and indifference to the burning questions of the
day.

"I have heard naught, I know naught. I have been living the life of
the forests these past months," he answered, following Walter into
a small room where they had often worked together. "I have heard no
word of what was passing in the world; I come to learn that here."

The eagerness faded from Walter's face. He spoke much more quietly.

"Belike thou wert right to hide and live thus obscure; many of our
leaders have done the like. It is ofttimes the best and the safest
plan. But the time is at hand, and we must rally around them now.
When the hour has struck and when the deed is done, then will it be
for us to work--then will our hour of toil come. East and west,
north and south, must we spur forth with the tidings. The whole
nation must hear it and be roused. The blow must be struck whilst
the iron is hot. Thus and only thus can we be secure of the
promised victory."

Walter spoke quietly, yet with an undercurrent of deep enthusiasm
that struck an answering chord in Cuthbert's heart. All true and
deep feeling moved him to sympathy. His friend was talking in
riddles to him; but he felt the earnestness and devotion of the
man, and his sympathy was at once aroused.

"What hour? what blow? what deed?" he asked wonderingly. "I know
not of what thou speakest."

Walter drew his brows together and regarded him with an expression
of intense and wondering scrutiny. When he spoke it was in a
different tone, as though he were carefully weighing his every
word, as though he were a little uncertain of the ground on which
he stood. There was something of evasive vagueness in his tone,
whilst his eyes were fixed on Cuthbert's face as though he would
read his very soul.

"Methought thou knewest how cruelly we suffered, and that we trust
some stroke of kind fortune's wheel may ere long make life
something better for us. The King meets his Parliament soon. Then
is the time when men's grievances may be discussed, and when there
is hope for all that wiser and more merciful laws may be passed. We
have gat