“Yet some other guide were more fitting than one of thine own children, shame upon him. Oh, my more than father, do fly; they will drag thee to a shameful death, like thy brethren of Reading and Abingdon. Is it not written, ‘When they persecute you in one city flee ye into another?’”
“Too late, my son, they are at the gate.”
“We will hide thee; there must be some place to hide in here, some secret chamber.”
“They are on the stairs, my son; do not let them see thee weep, be manly.”
Cuthbert strove to repress his emotion and to maintain outward composure, when the door opened and three men entered, rude of aspect.
“My name is Layton,” said the foremost, “and these two worthy men be Masters Pollard and Moyle; we be pursuivants of the King, and in his name, and by virtue of his warrant, we have charge to arrest thee, unless thou clear thyself by thy answers to certain questions.”
“What are they?” said the Abbot, calmly.
“Hast thou taken the Oath of Supremacy?”
“I have, to my great sorrow.”
“To his great sorrow, mark that, Master Pollard; and why to thy great sorrow?”