Geoffrey and Hubert were both Lollards, but in a very different spirit. Geoffrey, the heir of a noble baronetcy, saw his patrimony destroyed, his father outlawed and hunted, himself dependent on the charity of the poor for a place of shelter, and his very soul went out in opposition to the oppressors and to their religion. In Lollardism he found a freedom which agreed with his notions of right, and a purity of morals suited to his taste. The younger brother embraced the reformed religion, because he found in the doctrines it taught, a way of relief for a sinning soul--because they brought to him, free, and untrammeled by superstition and the traditions of men, the Gospel of the Cross, "the sweet story of old." Geoffrey was a Lollard, because with all his strength he hated Rome, and desired to break its yoke from the necks of his countrymen; Hubert, because he loved Jesus, and longed, with all the fervor of his spirit, to convey the tidings of deliverance from a far greater power than that wielded in the Vatican, to the priest-ridden, ignorant poor of his native land.
It was natural, therefore, that the former should have many a bitter thought rising in his mind as he thought of the smouldering ruins of Forest Tower. The insult and wrong which had been heaped upon his noble race seemed more than he could bear; his whole soul revolted against the tyranny.
"It is mine!" he cried aloud, as he reached the top of the cliff, and drew his fine though boyish figure up to its full height in an attitude of defiance--"mine by every law. King Henry holds his throne by no better right! I care not how strong they be, they shall give it back, or may a curse rest on them every one--may they all, from king Henry down to his hirelings, be as homeless as I am this night! Send down, O God of Justice!--if there be such a God--fire and sword upon their houses, as they have brought them on mine; curses on their meat and drink, curses----" He paused, then sank down on the ground and groaned bitterly. Had he not been so enrapt in his fiery thoughts, he might have noticed a face peering at him with malignant satisfaction from the shadow of a rock scarce ten feet from the spot where he stood in full moonlight, with his clenched right hand raised toward heaven, calling down vengeance for his wrongs. But now, as he sank to the earth, the figure stooped and became invisible, for at that instant another footstep was heard along the path, and a still more boyish form sprang across the little open space.
"Geoffrey! dear Geoffrey!"
"What are you doing here, Hubert?" cried the elder lad, springing to his feet, like all other lads displeased at being found giving way to his emotions. "Get you back to the cottage; this is no place for you, on the mountain-top at night!"
"Do not be angry, brother!" said the younger beseechingly. "I saw you rise and go out, and I followed, it is so wild and desolate for you to be here alone, and you so miserable."
"Miserable!"--the word was spoken in a contemptuous tone--"that is for a woman to say. I am a man now, I must stand up for my lawful rights; I must pursue to the death those blood-hounds, those hirelings of the foul fiend himself, whom may Heaven----"
"Geoffrey! Geoffrey! stop; do not say such words. We may not curse, we must pray--we must bless!" And the boy clung to his brother in passionate entreaty. Geoffrey flung him off.
"You are a child, Hubert! you do not understand these things. Go back to your bed. I choose to be alone." He strode off to the furthest extremity of the little rocky platform, close, close to the lurker in the shadow! When he had styled his enemies blood-hounds, he was not far from the truth; for dearly they loved to track silently their victim's footsteps, to spring upon him when he felt most secure.
"Geoffrey," said the little pleading voice, "it is very cold, I thought you would wrap me in your cloak."