"Mistress Magdalen," he asked suddenly, "what do you know of this man and his work?"
"Very little; only what Anthony Dalaber and Master Clarke have sometimes told us when these matters have been spoken of--no more than you have told me yourself."
"But you have sympathy with him and his object?"
"Perhaps I have. In sooth, I scarce know how I feel about such matters. I know there is peril. I love not disobedience, nor scorn those set over us; but yet I feel for those who desire more, and would fain drink of the water of life out of new cisterns. But what I meant was that it grieved me that any should hold such men in reprobation, or should betray them into the hands of their enemies, should they be in any peril."
"It is what we are bidden to do sometimes," spoke Arthur gravely.
"I know; but I could not do it. I should shrink from any man who could obey such a mandate as that."
He looked at her long and earnestly, then he turned and took her hands in his, and stood facing her for a while in silence.
"And what would you do for the man who should, instead of betraying, warn, such conspirators of their peril, should he know that they stood in need of warning?"
She thrilled somewhat beneath his touch. There seemed a purpose in his words. The colour rose in her face.
"I should look upon him as a friend. I should call him noble. I should put my trust in him. Our Lord has promised His blessing to the merciful. Surely He would count that an act of mercy which should save those in peril from the hands of their foes."