"Nick, I do by times marvel if it be any ill to go. _We_ worship no idols, even though we bow down--" "`Thou shalt not bow down to them' is the command." "Ay, but they were images of false gods." "Read the Commandment, good wife. They were `any graven image, or the likeness of any thing that is in Heaven above, or in the earth beneath, or in the waters under the earth.' Not a word touching false gods read I there." "Why, but that were to condemn all manner of painting and such like-- even yon rogue's likeness of Mistress Hall yonder." "Scarcely, methinks, so long as it were not made for worship. The cherubim were commanded to be made. But if so were, wife--whether were better, that the arts of painting and sculpture were forgotten, or that God should be dishonoured and His commands disobeyed?" "Well, if you put it that way--" "Isn't it the true way?" "Ay, belike it is. But he'll be down on us, Nick." "No manner of doubt, wife, but he will, and Satan too. But `I am with thee, and no man shall invade thee to hurt thee,' [see Note] saith the Lord unto His servants." "They've set on Mistress Benden, trow." "Nay, not to hurt her. `Some of you shall they cause to be put to death... yet shall not an hair of your head perish.'" "Eh, Nick, how shall that be brought about?" "I know not, Collet, neither do I care. The Lord's bound to bring it about, and He knows how. I haven't it to do." "'Tis my belief," said Collet, shaking the table-cloth, in a fond endeavour to obliterate the signs of Master Silas and his art, "that Master Benden 'll have a pretty bill to pay, one o' these days!" Her opinion would have been confirmed if she could have looked into the window at Briton's Mead, as Mr Benden's house was called. For Edward Benden was already coming to that conclusion. He sat in his lonely parlour, without a voice to break the stillness, after an uncomfortable supper sent up in the absence of the mistress by a girl whom Alice had not yet fully trained, and who, sympathising wholly with her, was not concerned to increase the comfort of her master. At that time the mistress of a house, unless very exalted, was always her own housekeeper and head cook. Mr Benden was not a man usually given to excess, but he drank deeply that evening, to get out of the only company he had, that of his own self-reproachful thoughts. He had acted in haste--spurred on, not deterred, by Tabitha's bitter speeches; and he was now occupied in repenting considerably at leisure. He knew as well as any one could have told him, that he was an unpopular man in his neighbourhood, and that no one of his acquaintance would have done or suffered much for him, save that long-suffering wife who, by his own act, lay that night a prisoner in Canterbury Gaol. Even she did not love him--he had never given her room nor reason; but she would have done her duty by him, and he knew it.