errible to
behold.

"I returned to find a heap of ashes; I returned to find my wife a
maniac; I returned to find my child--my boy--great God!--he had run to
hide himself, in terror at the torches and the grim men; they had failed
to discover him, till, too late, his shrieks, amidst the crashing walls,
burst on his mother's ear,--and the scorched, mangled, lifeless corpse
lay on that mother's bosom!"

Adam rose; his figure was transformed. Not the stooping student, but
the knight-descended man, seemed to tower in the murky chamber; his hand
felt at his side, as for a sword; he stifled a curse, and Hilyard, in
that suppressed low voice which evinces a strong mind in deep emotion,
continued his tale.

"Blessed be the Divine Intercessor, the mother of the dead died too!
Behold me, a lonely, ruined, wifeless, childless wretch! I made all the
world my foe! The old love of liberty (alone left me) became a crime;
I plunged into the gloom of the forest, a robber-chief, sparing--no,
never-never--never one York captain, one spurred knight, one belted
lord! But the poor, my Saxon countrymen, they had suffered, and were
safe!

"One dark twilight--thou hast heard the tale, every village minstrel
sets it to his viol--a majestic woman, a hunted fugitive, crossed my
path; she led a boy in her hand, a year or so younger than my murdered
child. 'Friend!' said the woman, fearlessly, 'save the son of your king;
I am Margaret, Queen of England!' I saved them both. From that hour the
robber-chief, the Lollard's son, became a queen's friend. Here opened,
at least, vengeance against the fell destroyer. Now see you why I seek
you, why tempt you into danger? Pause, if you will, for my passion heats
my blood,--and all the kings since Saul, it may be, are not worth one
scholar's life! And yet," continued Hilyard, regaining his ordinary
calm tone, "and yet, it seemeth to me, as I said at first, that all
who labour have in this a common cause and interest with the poor. This
woman-king, though bloody man, with his wine-cups and his harlots, this
usurping York--his very existence flaunts the life of the sons of toil.
In civil war and in broil, in strife that needs the arms of the people,
the people shall get their own."

"I will go," said Adam, and he advanced to the door. Hilyard caught his
arm. "Why, friend, thou hast not even the documents, and how wouldst
thou get access to the prison? Listen to me; or," added the conspirator,
observing poo