"The women of Charles' Court!" he cried, and he seemed to be speaking to himself rather than to me. "Great God! I have thought since I returned, that there doth not remain a pure woman in London. The example of the king hath corrupted the country. Morality is laughed at, while the preachers wink at things which five years ago were regarded with holy horror. And yet no man can find favour in these days unless he licks Charles' boots and praises his way of living. I did not realize it while I was in France, but since I have returned I have seen what I thought might come. England is turned into a pigsty, and those who would live for faith and purity are treated like vermin!"
"Then what would you have me do father?" I asked.
He was silent for a time, then he said quietly—
"You will be able to walk out of here to-morrow a free man. I have seen to that. It is not far from here to the Virgin Queen, where our old servant Caleb Bullen lives. Caleb will expect you, and you may find out when you get there what I would have you do."
He kissed me affectionately as he bade me good-bye; indeed, it seemed to me as though he were taking a long farewell. But I knew not what was in his mind, neither did I ask questions, for my father was never a man who made known his secret thoughts with readiness. And yet the feeling which had possessed me at first concerning him had passed away. He had grown more and more like he was during my boyish days as our interview proceeded. Nay, more; I thought he had sympathized with me as I spoke to him, even although he was angry that I had not behaved with more worldly wisdom.
When I left the prison on the following morning I heard the Nonconformists comforting each other by singing hymns, and by prayers, so that while I could not understand many of their scruples my heart went out to them in sympathy. I noticed, too, that my gaolers paid me much respect as I left, and I judged that my father had somehow made them think of me as different from those whom they usually guarded.
As I walked up Ludgate Hill towards St. Paul's Cross no one paid heed to me, and yet as I caught sight of myself in one of the windows as I passed by, I scarce knew myself, for I had grown a beard several inches long, while my face was as pale as the face of a dead man.
When I entered the Virgin Queen old Caleb Bullen started back like a man frightened.
"Great Lord! Is that you, Master Roland?" he cried. "If it had been night I should e'en have taken you for a ghost."
"If you will give me some breakfast, I will prove to you that I am no ghost, Caleb," I replied.