"But it is true that you think the King false?" said Maud. "Harry did the same, and avowed it."
Master Drury winced at the implied reproach. "Nay, nay, I cannot go so far as that," he said; "if I were I should be a rebel."
"Then you must be false to yourself to _seem+ true to the King," said Maud, boldly; "and that is why there are so many true and honest men among the rebels, and why they are so strong. It is not their hatred of oppression only, nor their wish to save England's liberties, as they say; but they cannot do otherwise if they would be true to themselves—true to God, who has said, 'Fear God,' first, and then 'Honour the king.'"
Maud was speaking for Harry, and that gave her courage, or she would never dared to have said so much to her guardian. But it was all in vain. Family honour demanded the sacrifice of principle—at least, so thought Master Drury—and he would not allow Maud to seek an interview with Harry, or claim acquaintance with the all but executed traitor.
CHAPTER XI.
MYSTERIES.
As soon as Maud had sufficiently rested she returned to Hayslope with Master Drury, who, now that he had made up his mind to do so, was all impatient to return home. His visit to Oxford had been a very painful one, for his faith in the King had been completely broken, and yet he had been forced to hear of his son's condemnation to an ignominious death, for principles he began dimly to see were right.