"Now I know not that this concerns you, my dear son," continued the priest, laying his hand on Jack's arm, and looking earnestly at him. "I hope, with all my heart, that it does not, and that for many reasons; but I know you are intimate with Arthur Brydges who makes no secret of his opinions, and there are other reasons: Father Barnaby is a hard man, and especially bitter against heresy; and I would not, to be made Abbot of Glastonbury, have any harm happen to you."
"And you have taken this long journey to give me warning," said Jack, much affected, and kissing the old man's hand. "Truly, I know not how to thank you, dear father."
"But you must not say so, for the world, my dear son," said Father John hastily. "Remember, I am not supposed to know anything of this matter, and have come to consult your father on the investing of certain moneys left me by my brother, lately dead. I would not hear a word—supposing there were any such thing to hear—lest I should be called on to testify. Do you understand?"
"We both understand, reverend sir, and feel your kindness," said Master Lucas. "Believe me, I shall never forget it—"
"Tilly-vally, tilly-vally!" interrupted the priest. "It is naught! I have lived, I fear, a selfish life, and I would fain do some good before I die. I love not these new-fangled ways better than Father Barnaby himself. I am sure a parish priest's life is hard enough as it is, and they say the Lutherans are for having sermons every Sunday, and Scripture readings, and what not. No, I love no new fancies in religion, but I do not hold with all these burnings and imprisonments and the like. I think kindness and good treatment far more likely to bring men back to the truth."
"Why, there was Father Thomas, the librarian at Glastonbury; in his youth he was greatly taken with such of these new notions as were current—Lollardism, men called it then—and some of the brethren were for having him hardly dealt by."
"'Let him alone, let him alone!' said the abbot—that was Abbot John, not the present Abbot Sylvester—'Let him alone,' says the abbot. 'Let me deal with him.'"
"So he calls Brother Thomas, and after some talk, he makes him his secretary, and custodian of all the books."
"'And, Brother Thomas,' says he, 'I would have you take especial care of the Latin authors, and cause some new copies to be made of Cicero his Offices, and of Virgil and Horace, and spare no expense upon them.'"
"Well, that was the end of Brother Thomas's hankering after heresy."