The Lord defend our noble Queen
And country from them all!”
“There!” the minister cried when he had done, “that is what the Papists are like! Trust me; I know them. I should know one in a moment if he ventured into this room, by his crafty face. But the Lord will defend His own Englishmen; nay! He has done so. ‘God blew and they were scattered,’” he ended, quoting from the Armada medal.
As the four rode home by pairs across the field-path in the frosty moonlight Mr. Buxton lamented to Anthony the effect of the Armada.
“The national spirit is higher than ever,” he said, “and it will be the death of Catholicism here for the present. Our country squires, I fear, faithful Catholics to this time, are beginning to wonder and question. When will our Catholic kings learn that Christ His Kingdom is not of this world? Philip has smitten the Faith in England with the weapon which he drew in its defence, as he thought.”
“I was once of that national spirit myself,” said Anthony.
“I remember you were,” said Mr. Buxton, smiling; “and what grace has done to you it may do to others.”
The spring went by, and in the week after Easter, James’ news about Lancashire was verified by a letter from a friend of Mr. Buxton’s, a Mr. Norreys, the owner of one of the staunch Catholic houses, Speke Hall, on the bank of the Mersey.