Great joy was there over their distinguished guest; and ejaculations of wonder and thanksgiving burst forth as he detailed his trial, imprisonment, and escape from the Tower. He concluded by craving protection and concealment from De Forest until he should rest, and find an opportunity for escaping to Wales. Gladly were refreshment and rest given to the weary noble, than whom a better was not to be found in all England: the supporter of the poor, persecuted Lollards; the firm advocate of the Bible and a reformed church; the humble servant of God in the darkest age of superstition, priestcraft, and bigotry.
But now it was time the preacher should depart, for he must put many miles between him and Forest tower before the day broke. He rose, and giving his hand to Cobham, said:
"Be of good courage, my lord, Christ giveth the victory."
"Truly, John Beverly," said Cobham, "the Lord is good, and I shall trust in him. When shall we meet again?"
"In the Lord's kingdom," said Beverly, a smile beaming upon his noble features; and, pointing to the remains of the meal, he added: "At the supper of the Lamb, my lord, who so loved the world that he gave himself to the death for it, and, for whose sake, we are willing to lay down our lives for the brethren."
Thus they parted; the one to linger a few years in banishment and then meet at once his sufferings and reward; the other, with a heart full of faith, went at once to lay down his life that he might receive it new at the hands of the Saviour he had so faithfully served, both in life and in death.
CHAPTER II.
Putting on the Yoke.
Forest Tower had been built in the time of the Normans, on the site of one destroyed by them, which dated several centuries further back. It was a low, massive building, of gray stone, with a square tower in the centre, from which it took its name. The windows were mere slits in the wall. The moat was well kept, free from weeds, and filled with water. It was crossed by a drawbridge, which had not been raised for some time, judging from the earth and grass which nearly covered it. Within there was little for show, everything for defense. The great hall was dimly lighted by narrow windows, set in immense depth of wall, entirely destitute of glass, and closed at night by wooden shutters. A large fire-place stood at each end, but without any chimney, and the smoke was permitted to escape by the windows, or wreathe itself in thick folds among the soot-hung rafters. Across the upper end was the dais, or platform, raised two steps from the rest of the floor, and containing a stone table and a few roughly-made arm-chairs. Below, down the middle of the room, ran another long table, supplied with benches and stools of the rudest workmanship. The sleeping apartments were still less furnished--a chest for a wardrobe, and a heap of straw covered with a coarse blanket being all they contained, for this old fortalice was a little behind the age, even then, in the luxuries of life.
Forest Tower had been owned by the De Forests ever since its erection. Once its domain had embraced many miles of the adjacent country on every side. Its halls had been thronged with retainers, and Sir Thomas De Forest had led out a hundred yeomen to fight in the Scottish battles under king Edward the First. But times were now changed. The loyal De Forests had refused to acknowledge Henry Mortimer when he had seized the crown, and had taken part in every rebellion that had had for its object the restoration of the miserable Richard the Third. Consequently its fortunes had greatly declined. Manor after manor was confiscated by the crown or sold by its needy proprietors to pay their fines. Its bands of yeomen and retainers had all gone to serve other masters or been slain in the numerous combats, and only a few white-haired old domestics remained to keep up the shadow of its ancient splendor.