Upon the departure of one whose presence had imparted so much pleasure; from whom no unguarded word of censure or impatience had escaped, and who had revealed a mind adorned with such rich stores of culture, the scholastic Bradford sought his study, a small room, or closet, well supplied with books, to meditate on what had happened and to pursue his studies. Absorbed in his books, hours passed away unheeded, and he remarked not the opening of the door and entrance of a serving-man, who, seeing his master engaged, waited respectfully until he should be noticed. At length Bradford looked up and demanded his business.
"This," said the man, "was found in the chamber of Sir Christopher Gardiner." So saying, he handed to the Governor a small leathern pocket-book, such as were used for making memoranda, and withdrew.
Bradford, on being left alone, turned the book several times in his hand with a doubting air, then placing it at a little distance before him, leaned his head on his elbow, and began to muse.
"Publico utilitati cedet jus privatum," he said at last aloud, and opened the book. He had hardly glanced his eyes at the page, when they lighted up, and he seemed to read with intense interest.
"Ha!" he exclaimed, after reading through several leaves: "was ever man worse deceived? Here have I been harboring in my house and taking to my bosom a concealed Papist, as this writing sufficiently discloses. Nor yet a born Papist either, laboring under a delusion sucked in with mother's milk, but a recreant Protestant, a voluntary seeker after error; for here are written down the memorial of his shame, the very time and place where and when he struck hands with Anti-Christ, the name of the university where he assumed the scapula, as the blinded errorists call two woollen bands, the one crossing the breast and the other the back, one of those ridiculous mummeries whereby, with other devices and unseemly grimaces, they have contrived to bring the cross itself of the Redeemer into disrespect, and the degrees in superstition taken by this wretched backslider. Woe is me! How can the arch-deceiver assume the form of an angel of light! Yet is here no name written. The memorandum may refer to some-one else. But that cannot be. Himself is meant. Why should he carry about with him a note of this kind respecting another? This betrayer of treachery, this touchstone of truth, shall off forthwith to Winthrop, and be the antidote to the bane of my letter."
Thus murmured Governor Bradford, grieved as well as vexed at the deceit, as he supposed it to be. With a rapid hand, he wrote an account of his discovery, and entrusting it, with the note-book, to a messenger, commanded him to hasten after the soldiers from Governor Winthrop, and deliver to them the package.
CHAPTER XXXV.
Nought is on earth more sacred or divine,
That gods and men do equally adore,
Than this same virtue that doth right define,