“Anthony Dalaber taken!” spoke Freda, and her face grew white to the lips.  “Oh, speak, good sir; what will they do to him?”

The monk who stood before the sisters, his cowl drawn over his face, his hands folded in his sleeves, took up the word again, which Freda’s impulsive ejaculation had interrupted.

“He is not as yet taken prisoner, but he has been commanded to appear before the prior, and I fear me that is but the first step.  He begged of me to come and tell you, and give you that packet,” and his eyes rested upon a small parcel which Freda held tightly between her two hands; “so here am I to do his bidding, without staying to know what will befall him at the prior’s hands.  He went to answer the summons as I came forth hither.”

The monk had found the sisters in their garden, having followed Dalaber’s directions, and entered by the little door which he himself had so ofttimes used.  At this hour the sisters were wont, in fine weather, to take an hour’s exercise up and down the pleasant sheltered walk beneath the wall.  Here the monk had found them, and had presented to Freda a small packet which contained Dalaber’s New Testament, of which he knew full well he would speedily be deprived, and a few jewels and valuables which he possessed and desired to make over to her.

“Tell us all that has befallen him!” cried Freda breathlessly.

So far all she had taken in was that Dalaber had been summoned before the prior, but she felt that more lay behind.  The monk was visibly troubled, and she knew him to be Anthony’s friend.  He stood before them with downcast mien and told his tale.

“It was yesterday in the afternoon that Anthony Dalaber came to me and borrowed a book.  I lent it to him, bidding him be careful of it; and he locked himself into his room, whilst I went my way to sundry tasks I had to perform, and then on to vespers and compline.  When I returned, Dalaber’s chamber door was shut and locked.  I went to mine own room, and presently the young man, a servant of the college, came in to perform some small duty, and he looked at me very cunningly, and asked whether I knew that Master Thomas Garret had been inquiring for me and for Master Dalaber.  Having been made aware that he had already fled from Oxford, I gave no credence to the young man’s words, and this seemed to anger him, for he told me plainly that Master Garret had come to the college, and had knocked many times at my door in my absence, and then coming away, had asked where Dalaber lived; and being directed to his door by this same youth, he had knocked till he obtained entrance, and had been shut up with him a great while.

“I was in doubt what to believe, and so said nothing; but later in the evening I was sent for of the prior, who asked me if I had ever had speech with Master Garret, and knew aught of him.  I told him I had not seen him this many a day, nor knew that he was in Oxford, save that the servant had spoken of his having been there this very day, which I scarce believed.  Having questioned me closely, he let me go, only warning me to have no dealings in the future with so pestilent a fellow.  He saw that I was ignorant of his present whereabouts, and suffered me to depart with only a rebuke.  But I left in fear and trembling for Anthony Dalaber, if indeed it should be true what the fellow had said that Master Garret had been shut up with him.

“I went many times to his room that evening, and sat up far into the night; but still he did not come, and I was in great fear that he might have been taken prisoner.  I resolved not to seek my bed, but to pass the night in fasting and prayer on his account; and I was thus occupied when there was a sound of commotion nigh at hand, and I heard steps and voices and the sound of blows upon the door of Dalaber’s chamber.  I opened mine own door cautiously, having extinguished my rush light, and I saw that the proctors were there, together with the prior and various servants of the college.  Not being able to obtain any reply to their summons, they had up a man with a great bunch of keys; and after some ado they forced open the door, and forthwith entered the chamber.  It was empty of its occupant; but they were by no means satisfied with that, and made great search everywhere, tossing everything about in the greatest confusion, ransacking his chest and flinging his clothes about hither and thither, examining every chink and cranny, and well-nigh pulling the bed to pieces in hopes of making some discovery.  And here they did find somewhat, for out tumbled a small bundle that had been hid in the bedclothes.  There was the book which I had lent him ­Lambert on St. Luke ­and a gown and hood, which might have been his own; but so soon as the young man of whom I have spoken before saw them, he straightway vowed and declared that it was these things which Master Garret had been wearing when he visited Anthony Dalaber, and showed them a rent in the shoulder, which he said he had particularly observed when showing the priest the way.  He had not known till Dalaber opened his door who the visitor was, but as soon as he knew he went to inform the proctors; and the chiefest marvel to me is that they tarried so long before visiting Dalaber’s chamber.  But belike they made hue and cry after Garret first.  Heaven have mercy upon him if they get him into their hands!”

“But Anthony, Anthony!” cried Freda, with a quick catch in her breath ­“I pray you tell me of him.”

“Verily I will.  When they had finished their search, and had got evidence that Master Garret had been there, they came across to my chamber and asked me what I knew concerning Dalaber.  I did answer that I knew nothing, but supposed he would shortly return.  I did not believe he had been to his room all night; which thing they did not seem to believe, and kept gazing all around my room, as though wondering whether I were not hiding him there.  However, as my bare chamber offered no concealment even for a cat, they had to be satisfied at last; and they went away, only charging me straitly that so soon as Dalaber should return, I must tell him to repair him instantly to the prior, who would have speech of him.  This I promised to do, though with a woeful heart, for I felt that evil was meant him, and I love him right well.”

“Yes, yes; and what followed next?”

“Marry, this ­that so soon as ever the college gates were open in the morning, at five o’clock, in comes Anthony Dalaber himself, his shoes and hosen all stained with mud, his face pale as though with watching and anxious thought, though his aspect was calm and resolute; and he came up the stairs without seeing me, and began to unlock his door.  But the lock had been twisted and bent, and he was still struggling with it when I came out to him and began to tell him what had happened.  He got his door opened, and the sight he saw before his eyes confirmed my tale, and he sat down and listened to all I had to say, very quietly, and without flinching.  He told me that he and certain of the brethren had passed the night together, in his old lodging at St. Alban Hall, in prayer for grace and guidance; but that, though they had prayed of him to fly, it had not seemed good to him to do so; and that he had resolved to return immediately to his own lodging, and to await there whatever might befall him.”

“My own brave, steadfast Anthony!” spoke Freda beneath her breath, her eyes shining like stars, but with a glint of tears behind their brightness.

“So I gave to him the prior’s message, and he said he would lose no time in going to see him.  But he knew not when or whether he might ever return to this place.  So he made up that little parcel, and he gave it into my hands; and in so doing he begged of me that when eight o’clock had sounded from the steeples, I would myself enter yonder door and present it to one of the two maidens I should find walking here, and say that it was a parting gift from Anthony Dalaber, who was like to be taken of his foes.”

The tears suddenly welled over and flowed down Freda’s cheeks.  It was Magdalen who found strength to ask: 

“What will they do to him?  Of what offence can they find him guilty?  All the world speak well of him.”

Robert Ferrar slowly shook his head, but made no reply; indeed, none could say what would befall next.  When a man stood in peril of a charge of heresy his friends could not bear to ask too closely what might be his ultimate fate.  Freda clasped her sister’s hands hard as the monk slowly turned to go.

“Peace be with you!  May the Lord help and sustain you,” he said, in his low, earnest voice, “and give to us all the strength to bear the cross which He may see good to lay upon us!”

He paced with bent head along the walk, and vanished through the door by which he had come.  Freda, with trembling hands, tore open the packet she had all this while been holding tightly clasped between them, and when she saw its contents the tears gushed forth.

She sank down upon the seat in the arbour, and the little, well-worn book fell open at a place where the page had been turned down.  It was that chapter in St. Matthew which Anthony had been reading after the departure of Garret, and the sisters devoured the words together, both deeply moved.

“O Magda, Magda, how can I bear it?” cried Freda, laying her head upon her sister’s shoulder; “I had thought to be so brave, so steadfast.  We have spoken of it, and I had thought that in a righteous cause it would not be hard to suffer.  And, in sooth, I verily believe I could suffer mine own self.  But I cannot bear for him to be alone ­for him to have so much laid upon him.  O my Anthony! my Anthony!”

“And it is so little they ask, so little they hold; and our beloved Master Clarke maintains that the true Catholic Church has forbidden naught that they would fain see restored ­only the liberty to read and study the living Word for themselves.  They are not rebels; they are not heretics.  They love the church, and they are her true sons.  Only they maintain that some errors have crept in of man’s devising, for which no Scripture warrant can be found; and they know that corruption hath entered even into the sanctuary, and they would fain see it cleansed.  Is that sin?  Is that heresy?  Then methinks our Lord must needs have been a heretic and sinner (if it be not blasphemy to say it), for He would not suffer His Father’s house to be polluted nor made a den of thieves.  And what else do these godly men ask now than that the Christian Church shall be purified and cleansed of merchandise and barter, and become again a holy house of prayer, undisturbed by any such things?”

Magdalen had been one of those who had most earnestly drunk in the teachings of such men as Clarke, who combined an intense and devoted love of Holy Church with an ardent desire after a purer spiritual administration.  His words to her soul were as words of life; and one of the things which had first attracted her to Arthur Cole, and become a bond of sympathy between them, was the deep admiration and enthusiasm that he always expressed with regard to Clarke and his doctrine and preaching.  Freda had gone somewhat farther along the road which Anthony was pursuing ­the road which led eventually to a greater upheaval and disruption than at that day any, save the most ardent foreign reformers, dreamed of.  Even Garret and Dalaber and their companions were as yet ignorant of the inevitable result of their teaching and convictions.  It seemed to them at this time that such a very little would satisfy them, that the church could not seriously excommunicate them or persecute them for what they believed.  And yet ­and yet ­there was a sense of coming tempest in the very air.  And when the sisters, having recovered their self-control, went indoors to tell their tale to their father, they saw that he was much disturbed, and that he considered Anthony’s position as very precarious.

Just as they were discussing the matter in all its bearings, and anxiously wondering when it would be possible to obtain further news, there was a short summons at the door, and Arthur Cole entered, with a pale and anxious face.  Evidently he saw from their faces that something had reached them, and his first question was: 

“Have you heard the news?”

“That Anthony Dalaber has been summoned before the prior?  Yes; his friend Ferrar brought us that news not long since.  But beyond that we know nothing.  Tell us, good Arthur, what is like to befall from that.  Is he in any great peril?”

“I scarce know myself; but I fear, I fear.  They are in a great rage at the escape of Garret; and since he is not to be found, they have laid hands upon Dalaber, and he is even now at Lincoln College, where he is to be examined by the commissary and others, with what result cannot yet be known.”

“Then he did not go before the prior?”

“Yes; he did so at the first.  News was hastily brought to me by a clerk from Gloucester College, and I hurried thither in time to hear much that passed at the prior’s court.  I have friends amongst the fellows and monks.  I stood just within the door and heard all.  The prior asked him of Garret’s visit the day before, and he confessed the latter had been with him, but had quickly gone forth again.  He was asked whither he had gone, and answered that he had spoken of Woodstock, where he had a friend amongst the keepers who had promised him a piece of venison for Shrovetide.”

“Was that true?” asked Freda, who was listening with wide and eager eyes.

Arthur smiled slightly.

“Most like it was a witty invention to put the bloodhounds off the scent, since Dalaber would scarce deliver over his friend into the hands of his bitter foes.”

“Is it right to speak a lie even in a good cause?” asked the girl, seeming to address no particular person, but to be thinking aloud.

“A nice question in ethics, sweet mistress,” spoke Arthur, with a smile; “and it may be there are some (I can believe that Master Clarke would be one) who would die sooner than utter a falsehood.  But for my part I hold that, as a man may take life or do some grievous bodily hurt to one who attacks him, and if he act in self defence no blame may attach to him, though at other times such a deed would be sin, so a man may speak a false word (at other times a sin) to save the life of his friend, and keep him out of the hands of those who would do him grievous bodily hurt, and perhaps put him to a cruel death.  At least our own priests will assoil us for such sins.  They suffer us to do evil that good may come ­if not openly preaching the doctrine, yet by implication.  I hold that no blame attaches to Anthony for speaking an untruth to save his friend.”

Freda could not blame him either, though she held the truth in high esteem.  It was a cruel predicament in which to be placed, and Anthony was ever impulsive in his thoughts and words.

Arthur took up his story again.

“The prior gave orders that search should instantly be made in the direction of Woodstock; and then, turning once more to Dalaber, he caught sight of the signet ring he always wore upon his hand, and asked him what it was.  Dalaber took it off and gave it him to look at.  You doubtless have noted the ring ­a piece of jasper, with the letters A. D. graven upon it.  The prior looked at it with covetous eyes, and finally put it on his finger.

“Sure, this must be mine own signet ring,” he said, with a sinister smile, “for it hath mine own initials upon it ­A for Anthony, and D for Dunstan.”

“The robber!” ejaculated Freda hotly.  “What said Anthony to that?”

“He said naught.  He had other matters to think of than the loss of his ring.  But, in sooth, there was no time for more to be spoken, for at that moment up came the beadle and other servants of the commissary, desiring that Anthony Dalaber should be brought at once before him in Lincoln College; and forthwith he was taken away, and I could only just whisper to him as he passed me by that I would see you and tell you all that happened.”

Silence fell upon the little group as Arthur ended his narrative.  All hearts were heavy, and they were not made less so by his next words.

“And I fear me greatly that Dalaber is not the only one who is in peril in Oxford this day.  I fear me much that it will not be long before they lay hands upon Master Clarke.”

Dismay and sorrow were in all faces.  Dr. Langton looked intently at the speaker, as though to ask more, and Arthur answered the unspoken question.

“I think I have told you how that the cardinal has been informed that the very men he introduced into Oxford have been foremost in the spread of those doctrines which are begun to be called heresy, though not one word has Master Clarke ever spoken for which he cannot find confirmation in the words of Holy Writ and in the pure teachings of the primitive church.  But having heard this, the cardinal is much disturbed, and hath ordered a very close and strict investigation to be made.  I know not exactly yet what these words may mean to us; but at no moment should I be surprised to hear that Clarke and others of like mind with himself had been suspended from teaching, if not arrested and accused as heretics.”

“Oh, it is too much! it is too much!” cried Magdalen, whose face had turned deadly pale.  She was much agitated, and her wonted calm had deserted her.

Freda, who was standing at the window, suddenly exclaimed that Master Radley was coming hastily across the meadow path towards them, and some instinct seemed to warn them all that he was the bearer of heavy tidings.  They could not await his coming, but went downstairs and out into the garden, where they met him breathless with his speed.

“Master Clarke is taken!” he cried, emotion and haste making his words barely audible.  “He was warned last night of coming peril.  The place was full of rumours, and it was known that Garret had been back and had escaped again.  We counselled him to fly, but he refused.  This morning the proctors sent for him, and he hath not returned.  I am expecting a visit every moment to my chambers.  They may or may not find the books concealed there; but it is known that I have hidden Master Garret.  I shall not escape their malice.  For myself I care little; but for that saint upon earth, John Clarke ­oh, a church that can call him heretic and outcast must be corrupt to the very core!”

“Have a care, my friend, have a care,” spoke Arthur, with a quick look round.  “I would I could teach you zealous men a little of the wisdom of the serpent.  You are careful one for the other, yet for your own selves ye seem to have no thought.  But your tidings is evil indeed.  So Master Clarke is to be another victim?”

“Alas!  I fear me so.  All the college is talking of it.  Our dean, after matins this morning, spoke very grave words, and said how it was grieving him to the quick that this godly college, built and endowed by the holy cardinal himself, should be regarded as a centre of growing heresy, and how that he hoped by God’s grace to purge and cleanse it.  Master Clarke was not in his stall, and when we came out we heard that he had been taken.  They think that others will shortly follow.  Master Clarke and Anthony Dalaber are in their hands, and will be straitly examined.  If they tell all that will be asked of them, many of us may be in prison ere long; if not, it may take time to hunt the victims down; but I trow they will be snared and taken at last.”

“Anthony will never betray his friends,” spoke Freda beneath her breath, a wave of colour flooding her face.

Magdalen had turned away, and was pacing up and down in a secluded walk.  Arthur followed and came up with her, looking into her face, which was wet with tears.  He took her hand, and she did not repulse him.  She felt the need of help and sympathy.  She was deeply troubled, and she knew that he was also.

“It will be a heavy blow to many of us, Mistress Magdalen, if aught befall our father and friend, Master Clarke.”

“I feel as though I could not bear it,” she answered, with a sob.  “His words were as words of life to me.”

“And to me also,” answered Arthur gravely, “even though I do not call myself, as he did, one of this new brotherhood.  But I hold him to be a holy man of God, with whom was pure and sound doctrine.  If harm befall him, Oxford will suffer the stain of an indelible disgrace.”

“Can nothing be done?” cried Magdalen earnestly.  “Oh, can we do nothing?  You are rich, you are powerful, you have many friends in high places ­can you do nothing?”

“Whatever I can do, I will do,” answered Arthur gravely.  “I fear me in a crisis like this it will be little; and yet I will leave no stone unturned.  I will even see the cardinal himself if I can achieve it, and if his life or safety are in peril.  I would risk much for him and for Dalaber, for both are dear to me.  Believe me, I will do all that in me lies; but I fear I cannot promise success.  I know not what is intended, but I feel that there is much abroad of hatred and enmity against those who are branded with the name of heretic.”

“It is so hard, so hard,” spoke Magdalen again, “when they ask so little ­just the liberty of thought and study, and only such things as the Word of God enjoins.”

Arthur slightly shook his head.  He knew well what the answer of the opposing party would be to such an argument; but he was in no mood for controversy, least of all with Magdalen.

He stopped as they reached the end of the walk, and she paused instinctively.  He possessed himself of both her hands, and she did not draw them away.

“Magdalen,” he said gently, “when Dalaber spoke to me of the peril that threatened him, he said that he regarded me almost as a brother, in that he was the betrothed of Freda, and he knew how that I did love thee as mine own life.  Sweetheart, it scarce seems a moment in which to speak of love and joy; but let me ask at least the right to be near thee and to comfort thee in the hour of darkness and trouble.  Those who are in peril are dear to us both.  I will do all that one man can compass on their behalf.  But let me have one word of hope and comfort ere I leave thee.  Say, my beloved ­dost thou, canst thou, love me?”

She hesitated a little, and then her head bent lower till it rested for a moment upon his shoulder.

His arm was round her, and he drew her towards himself.

“I think I have loved thee a great while now, Arthur,” she answered, and felt his lips upon her brow and hair.

So when he walked away an hour later, although his heart was clouded by anxiety and doubt, there was a deep joy and triumph in his soul, and the sun seemed to shine with a golden radiance, despite the heavy clouds hanging in the sky.