"Peace, peace, good Anthony!" spoke Arthur, with a half laugh. "Thou must have a care how thou dost talk rank heresy, and to whom. Such words are safe enow with me; but they say that even walls have ears."
"It is my weakness that I speak too freely," answered Dalaber, who had already opened the door. "But in sooth I trow we are safe here, for yonder chamber belongs to the monk Robert Ferrar, who--But no matter. I will say no more. My tongue is something over fond of running away with me, when I am with friends."
Evensong at St. Frideswyde's was always a well-attended service. Although it was now the chapel of Cardinal College, the old name still clung to it. The cardinal had removed much of the former priory and chapel of St. Frideswyde to carry out the plans for his college; but though the collegiate buildings were called by his name, the chapel generally retained its older and more familiar title. The daily services were better performed there than in any other college chapel; and many men, like Dalaber himself, possessed of good voices, sang in the choir as often as their other duties permitted them.
Service over, the two friends passed out together, and waited for Clarke, who came quietly forth, his face alight with the shining of the Spirit, which was so noticeable in him after any religious exercise.
He greeted them both in brotherly fashion, and gladly welcomed them to his lodging.
There was something very characteristic of the man in the big, bare room he inhabited. It was spotlessly clean--more clean than any servant would keep it, though the canons of Cardinal College were permitted a certain amount of service from paid menials. The scanty furniture was of the plainest. There was nothing on the floor to cover the bare boards. Two shelves of books displayed his most precious possessions; the rest of his household goods were ranged in a small cupboard in a recess. His bed was a pallet, covered by one blanket. There was no fire burning on his hearth. Several benches ranged along the walls, and a rather large table, upon which a number of books and papers lay, stood in the middle of the room. One corner had been partitioned off, and was very plainly fitted up as an oratory. A beautiful crucifix in ivory was the only object of value in all the room.
Arthur and Anthony both knew the place well, but neither entered it without a renewed sensation impossible to define.
"It is the abode of peace and of prayer," Dalaber had once said to Freda, describing the lodging to her. "You seem to feel it and to breathe it in the very air. However worn and anxious, fretful or irate, you are when you enter, a hush of peace descends upon your spirit, like the soft fluttering of the wings of a dove. Your burden falls away; you know not how. You go forth refreshed and strengthened in the inner man. Your darkness of spirit is flooded by a great light."
They sat down in the failing gleams of the setting sun, and Dalaber told of Garret's night and the errand on which he was bound. Arthur smiled, and slightly shrugged his shoulders; but the confidence his friend unconsciously put in him by these revelations was sacred to him. He had not desired to know; but at least the secret was safe with him.
"He will not go there," said Clarke, as he heard the tale.