Jack saw the old man wince at the sarcasm, and resented it for him.
"Whatever you know," thought he, "you have not learned one thing, and that is to respect your elders."
"So you are Master Lucas's son of Bridgewater," said Father Barnaby, turning his dark eyes on Jack with no very friendly expression. "I have heard of you, young sir, and am glad to meet you. I must have some conversation with you before we part. But I must send my attendant brother with a message to the Hall."
"Hark ye, dear son, don't anger him," whispered Father John, as Father Barnaby left the room. "Don't contradict him or give him a handle against you. He is a devil when his temper is up, the saints forgive me for saying so! And he is as keen after heresy as a terrier after a fox. Be on your guard, there's a good lad."
"I will, your reverence," said Jack, and, wondering whether the trial Richard Fleming spoke of had arrived already, he lifted up his heart in prayer for strength and wisdom. But the trial was not to come just yet.
Father Barnaby came back in a moment, and seating himself in the hardest chair in the room, he called Jack to stand before him, and bent his eyes upon him as though he would look him through.
Jack sustained the glance with modest confidence, and waited to be spoken to.
"They tell me you are a scholar," said Father Barnaby, "and I hear of you that you have an appetite for novelties and would fair pry into high and sacred matters."
"Who told you as much as that, I wonder?" thought Jack, but he held his peace.
"I do assure you, brother, the boy is a good boy," said Father John, timidly and anxiously. "He can say his creed and questions, and is regular in his duties."