"No," I replied.
He sighed deeply, whereupon I asked him if he were in trouble.
"Ay, I am in deep trouble," he said, "for I fear evil hath happened to my wife and dear ones. When we parted this morning, I said I would try and get work among the farmers, so as to earn enough to buy them bread, while they said they would make known our condition to some friends who are still faithful. We also arranged to meet here at five o'clock. Is it not about that time, young master?"
"It is past that hour," I replied.
"Then I fear evil hath happened to them," he said, and I saw the tears well up into his eyes.
"But surely this is strange," I said; "you do not look like a man who should be seeking work of the farmers. You look rather to be a man of learning and of quality."
"I am an unworthy preacher of the Word; but I have been driven from my vicarage, and now nought but starvation stares me in the face."
"What parish were you in?" I asked.
"I was the incumbent of St. Martin's," he replied. "I would not conform, so I was e'en driven out."
"Why would you not conform?" I asked.