But on their knees in their chambers, the Gospellers thanked God from their hearts that day, for this pouring forth of His Spirit upon the dry ground; for His glory thus exalted in the awakening of that dear brother from sleep which seemed as though it might be death; for His strength, so gloriously shown forth in mortal weakness, that warmed and quickened the last beatings of the noble heart of Archbishop Cranmer.
“Jack,” said Isoult that night to her husband, “I would I had asked Mr Underhill if Austin had yet heard anything of Robin.”
“Ah!” said he.
“Thou art not used to answer so short,” she replied. “Hast thou heard any thing, Jack?”
“I have heard—nothing—certain,” he answered, hesitatingly.
“Jack, what hast thou heard?” she cried in terror.
“With any surety, dear heart, nothing whatever,” he said, lovingly; “only that Austin hath spoken to me touching him, and therefore I could not say I had heard nothing. And at most ’tis only a guess. I cry thee mercy not to have told thee, but seeing how unsure it were, I thought it more kindlier not to trouble thee. Well, sweeting, what Austin said was this: he hath made all search in every prison he hath visited, and spake unto divers prisoners, but no word of the dear lad may he have. And he is afeard, Isoult—it is but a guess, thou wist!—that all is over already.”
Before he had half finished, his meaning struck on her heart, like a passing bell. “All over!” she knew what that meant.
“O my God! wilt thou not give us one word that we may know? This watching and waiting is so hard to bear. I desire to be, to do, to suffer Thy will; but, Father, it is very weary work to wait! ‘If it be possible,’ send us some word of our lost darling! ‘Make no long tarrying, O my God!’”
It was not to John, and not aloud, that this was spoken.