CHAPTER XV.

MARY BRENT'S LODGER.

"I am glad he is gone," said Sister Barbara to Jack, when she heard of the afternoon's visitor. "I could not be easy so long as he was about. He is a terrible man."

"And I am glad as well, and that for more reasons than one," answered Jack; "one of which is that poor old Father John will be left in peace. I have no fears of his disturbing other folks for heresy or anything else, so long as he is left to himself. But there is that sacristan, who is a prying, eavesdropping fellow, and men say a spy of Father Barnaby's."

"I grow very weary of all this concealment," said Sister Barbara. "I sometimes feel as if I must speak, come what may."

"Father William says the same, and I suppose it must come to that shortly," said Jack. "He has scruples about celebrating masses for the dead, and I think he will declare himself before long. He is not the man to act against his conscience. Do you think, madam, the time will ever come when the people of this realm will dare to speak out, and when the Scripture will be read in the churches?"

"It may come in your time, but I fear not in mine," said Sister Barbara, sighing, "and there will be terrible times first. The bishops and priests will not give up their claims on the people without a fierce struggle, and nobody can guess the side the King will take. You heard the sermon the priest of St. Mary's preached last Sunday about those who presume to read the new Gospel?"

"Yes, madam," said Jack laughingly. "He is a learned man. He said that Greek was a heathen tongue, and asked if it were likely that the Scripture would be written in the language of heathens, while Latin was the tongue of our Holy Father the Pope. He said Hebrew was the speech of unbelieving Jews, and therefore not fit even to be named by Christians. ¹ I could hardly forbear laughing."

¹ This is a fair sample of the eloquence of the preaching friars.

"Laugh while you can," said Sister Barbara sadly. "I greatly fear we shall all laugh out of the other side of our mouths ere long. Just think what a power this man and others like him hold in their hands; how they penetrate the inmost secrets of families and individuals. Jack, there are hard, troublous times before us, and we do well to be sober, wary, and sad."

"Sober and wary if you please, but by your leave, dear lady, not sad," said Jack. "Since all our fate standeth not in the hands of these men, but in the power and will of our Lord who can overrule all their designs for the good of His children, and make, as the Psalm says, even the very wrath of man to praise Him. He says to His disciples, 'In the world ye shall have tribulation,' but He adds in the same breath, 'Be ye of good cheer, I have overcome the world.'"

"You are right, and I am wrong and faithless," said Madam Barbara; "but oh, dear brother, you are young, and you have never seen what I have seen. You have lived under the pure and peaceful shelter of your father's roof, and your priest, Sir William, is one of a thousand. But I have grown up in a convent; I have been behind the scenes and have been trusted. I saw the condemnation and punishment of Agnes Harland, who was murdered, if ever a sweet saint was murdered in this world for her boldness in speaking the truth."

"Murdered!" said Jack, starting. "I thought she died a natural death."

"And so she did in one sense, that is to say, she was not killed by any regular execution. No, it was by slow, hard, unrelenting tyranny, by exclusion from light and air and nourishing food, ay, often even from sleep itself for days together. Father Barnaby persuaded the prioress that such severity would overcome her obstinacy and bring her back to her duty; but he did not know with whom he had to deal. I have seen the prioress weep bitter tears after she had, at his instigation, given orders for some new hardship to the poor prisoner; and I believe she would never have consented to what was done, had she not verily believed she was acting for the good of Agnes herself. At last Agnes fell ill, so ill that all thought she must die. Then the reverend mother could bear it no longer. She was a spirited lady and used to rule, and she had her own way in spite of the confessor. She had Agnes removed to a more comfortable place, and appointed me to attend on her, because she said she knew I would be kind to her and that I was in no danger of being perverted. She little knew what was going on. But Agnes died at last. They persecuted her almost to the last minute to recant, but she was firm as a rock, and died peacefully, with the name of our Lord on her lips."

"They blamed me much for weeping for an obstinate heretic," continued Sister Barbara, wiping her eyes. "They buried her in an obscure corner of the graveyard, all overgrown with nettles, and without any sacred rites. The sisters were always afraid to approach the place, because others had been buried there before, nuns who had broken their vows, and one who was an heretic like Agnes. They said the place was haunted; but to me it seemed like holy ground."

"You will hardly wish to return to a convent to live, madam," said Jack, after a pause.

Sister Barbara shuddered. "I will never do so unless I am compelled by force," said she. "I had not been three weeks under this roof, before I felt that it would break my heart to leave it; but now that I know more of the matter, my mind is made up. I will remain in your good father's family and teach my little school as long as I am allowed to do so. I love my children, and they love me, and I hope I am doing some good in the world."

"And if they require you to return to the convent?" said Jack.

"Then I shall refuse; and if I am pressed I shall tell my reasons," said Sister Barbara; "and after that, things must be as they will, or rather, as the Lord pleases. Each day's trouble is sufficient for the same day. I shall always be thankful that I was allowed to learn what a Christian home was like."

"I am sure it was a blessed day that brought you here, madam," said Master Lucas, who had entered the room in time to hear the last words. "You have been like sunshine in the house ever since you came into it. I would all religious persons were like you, and above all that you could put some of your own bright spirit into my poor Anne. I know not what to do with her. I do not like to find fault, and besides it does no good; but it hardly seems fair that she should spoil the comfort of the whole family as she does. But as for you I do trust, madam, that you will never think of lodging elsewhere, so long as you can be content with such accommodations as simple folk like us have to offer."

"There is no fear of that, Master Lucas; I am only too happy here," replied Sister Barbara, smiling and sighing. "I never knew there were such kind people in the world as yourself and Dame Cicely. I only wish I could do aught to requite your kindness."

"And so you do, madam, so you do. To say nought of anything else, you have added much to my profit the last six months, by your skill in confectionery. But I am forgetting my errand. Son Jack, can you leave your books long enough for a walk this fine evening?"

"Surely, and with great pleasure, dear father,"' replied Jack. "It is not often you find time to walk with me."

"Nor have I the time now, for Simon has gone to Master Mayor's with the manchets and cold baked meats for the feast to-night; and I must be at home to send off the other matters. But here is little Peter come from Mary Brent to ask you to come down and see her lodger who lies very