Again he looked steadily at me, and it was some time before he spoke. "You see that stile there?" he said. "If you follow the footpath into the wood for half a mile you will see my cottage."
"See that the children have good food and a fire to-night," I said with a laugh, for my heart had grown light and joyful with hope.
"Thanks to you, they shall," he cried; and I saw the tears trickling down his wan cheek. "Oh, may the Lord forgive me for ever doubting His word! Did not David say, 'I have been young, and now am old, yet have I never seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging bread.' No, I shall not be forsaken, and the Lord will provide. Ay, and the word of the Lord shall triumph too. The eyes of the wicked may stand out with fatness, yet will I not fret myself because of evildoers. I will trust in the Lord, and do good, and I will dwell in the land and follow after faithfulness. I will delight myself in the Lord, and He will give me the desires of my heart."
"And what may your name be?" I asked.
"Forgive me if I have seemed afraid to trust you," he said, "but it behoveth those who are surrounded by enemies to behave with caution. But I believe that the Lord hath sent you to me. My name, young master, is John Day, who for ten years ministered to his flock in the parish church at St. Martin's."
All my weariness and fatigue had gone as I rode into Bedford. I was afraid of nothing, for I believed that God had led me hither. Again and again I went over in my mind the conversation between Master John Day and myself, and the more I thought of it, the more I was convinced that the friend who had helped them was the woman I loved. It accorded with what my father had told me concerning her, and although Master Day had been afraid to tell me aught, he had said enough to confirm my hopes.
I did not think it best to go to The Bull at Bedford, but seeing an inn called General Fairfax, I made my way thither. If an innkeeper was bold enough to keep an inn bearing such a name, I reflected, it might be that I should be safer there than elsewhere. Not that I feared recognition. As Caleb Bullen had said, my appearance had been so changed during my prison life that scarce any one would know me. When I was in Bedford last, I was brown and strong; now I was pale, and looked weak and ill. Moreover, my clothes were so different from what I wore then that they altered my appearance much. Besides, I had but little to fear. No warrant was out against me, neither had I done anything to cause those in authority to take note of me.
The inn, moreover, was of a quieter order than the others, neither were any troublesome questions asked of me.
After supper I found my way into the room where several men sat with their mugs of ale before them, and I found that they were talking about the trial which was to take place on the following morning.
"How many are to be tried?" asked one. "Know you, James Bilsom?"