He
said he could not save Ballard, so hot was the pursuit after him; that
he would lose favour with her Grace if he did."
"What comfort is there in that?"
"Why; it shows plain enough that nothing is known of the true facts. If
they were after him for this design of ours do you think that Walsingham
would speak like that? He would clap us all in ward--long ago."
The young priest was silent. His head still whirled with the tale, and
his heart was sick at the misery of it all. This was scarcely the
home-coming he had looked for! He turned abruptly to the other.
"Anthony, lad," he said, "I beseech you to give it up."
Anthony smiled at him frankly. His excitement was sunk down again.
"You were always a little soft," he said. "I remember you would have
nought to do with us before. Why, we are at war, I tell you; and it is
not we who declared it! They have made war on us now for the last twenty
years and more. What of all the Catholics--priests and others--who have
died on the gibbet, or rotted in prison? If her Grace makes war upon us,
why should we not make war upon her Grace? Tell me that, then!"
"Anthony, I beseech you to give it up. I hate the whole matter, and fear
it, too."
"Fear it? Why, I tell you, we hold them _so_." (He stretched out his
lean, young hand, and clenched the long fingers slowly together.) "We
have them by the throat. You will be glad enough to profit by it, when
Mary reigns. What is there to fear?"
"I do not know; I am uneasy.
Pages:
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293