"For what reason?" asked Jack.
"I do not understand, exactly. For the founding of some college or other. Anyhow he has the order from his Holiness the Pope, and so the nuns must budge, will they nill they. Poor old girls! I wonder much what will become of them all. I don't love them too well, but it pities me to think of them turned out all among strangers, and I have told Anne if she has any special friend among them she may ask her to stay with us till she can have time to turn herself."
"You are the very best man in the world, father!" said Jack. "I do believe there never was such another."
"Tut, tut, lad! I trust there are many better in our good town. I will say for Anne, she was very grateful, and thanked me prettily enough, poor child. But you and I have lived to see many changes, Uncle Thomas. 'Tis but a little while since folks were wondering over hearing the Creed, the Lord's Prayer, and the Commandments said in English in the churches. Who knows what may come next? We may live to hear the whole Bible read, as they say the Lutherans do."
"Not in my time, I fear," replied the shepherd. "But is not this a strange move of my lord cardinal's? There is much discontent already with the religious houses, and the monks complain everywhere of the disrespect with which they are treated. To my mind, this measure is a little like showing the cat the way to the cream."
"Maybe so! Maybe so! I fear me the cat will find her way to that cream-pot without showing, some of these days," said the baker. "But anyhow, the gray nuns must troop, bag and baggage, and there is talk of my Lord Harland buying the house and lands. They say he brought home much treasure from the Low Countries, and some pretend to affirm that he is a favorer of the new doctrine. Anne, poor maid, went off into a fit of weeping when she heard the story. I suppose it is but natural she should be grieved at seeing the place go into secular hands."
Jack thought he understood better the cause of his sister's grief. He remembered the sad tale of Agnes Harland, and could not help wondering whether she were still alive and whether the suppression of the convent might prove her release.
"But even if she be living, they will doubtless make sure work with her before that day comes," he thought. "She will have secured her martyr's crown before this time."
Meantime Dame Margery's exertions had spread the board with a hearty and substantial meal, to which the travellers did full justice. Master Lucas praised everything, declared that such milk and butter were well worth the ride, and shouted compliments to Margery till the old woman fairly blushed. He was one of those happy people who are always disposed to see the bright side of everything, and who come like a broad beam of sunshine into every house they enter.
"Well, we must even be jogging homewards," he said, at last. "My mule is not swift at best, as how could she be, poor creature, with such a load on her back? We must not be late, or the women will imagine all sorts of dangers and horrors."