ets, now's the time for thou
know'st what."

Stead's mouth was open, and his face blank, chiefly because he did not
know what to do, and was taken by surprise, and Blane took it for an
answer.

"Oh! if you don't know, that's another thing, but then 'twas for nothing
that the troopers flogged you? Well," he muttered, as Stead walked
off, "that's a queer conditioned lad, to let himself be flogged, as I
wouldn't whip a dog, all out of temper, because he wouldn't answer a
question. But he's a good lad, and I'll not bring him into trouble by a
word to squire or minister."

The children went off to gather cowslips, and Stead was able to talk it
over with Patience, who at first was eager to be rid of the dangerous
trust, and added, with a sigh, "That she had never taken the Sacrament
since the Easter before poor father was killed, and it must be nigh upon
Whitsuntide now."

"That's true," said Stead, "but nobody makes any count of holy days now.
It don't seem right, Patience."

"Not like what it used to be," said Patience. "And yet this minister is
surely a godly man."

"Father and parson didn't say ought about a godly man. They made me take
my solemn promise that I'd only give the things to a lawfully ordained
minister."

"He is a minister, and he comes by law," argued Patience. "Do be
satisfied, Stead. I'm always in fear now that folks guess we have
somewhat in charge; and Emlyn is such a child for prying and chattering.
And if they should come and beat thee again, or do worse. Oh, Stead!
surely you might give them up to a good man like that; Smith Blane says
you ought!"

"I doubt me! I know that sort don't hold with Bishops, and, so far as
I can see, by father's old Prayer-book, a lawful minister must have a
Bishop to lay hands on him," said Stead, who had studied the subject
as far as his means would allow, and had good though slow brains of his
own, matured by responsibility. "I'll tell you what, Patience, I'll go
and see Dr. Eales about it. I wot he is a minister of the old sort, that
father would say I might trust to."

Dr. Eales was still living in Mrs. Lightfoot's lodgings, at the sign of
the Wheatsheaf, or more properly starving, for he had only ten pounds a
year paid to him out of the benefice that had been taken away from him;
and though that went farther then than it would do now, it would not
have maintained him, but that his good hostess charged him as little as
she could afford, and he also had a f