He had been to the Marshalsea; it was true Mr. Oldham was there, and had been examined. Mr. Young had conducted it.--The house at Newman's Court was guarded: the house behind Bow Church was barred and shut up, and the people seemed gone away.--He could not get a word through to Mr. Oldham, though he had tried heavy bribery.--And that was all. Anthony spoke with the same dazed air, in short broken sentences; but became more himself as the wine and the fire warmed him; and by the time he had finished he had recovered himself enough to entreat the Archbishop to help him. "It is useless," said the old man. "What can I do? I have no power. And--and he is a popish priest! How can I interfere?" "My lord," cried Anthony desperately, flushed and entreating, "all has been done through treachery. Do you not see it? I have been a brainless fool. That man behind Bow Church was a spy. For Christ's sake help us, my lord!" Grindal looked into the lad's great bright eyes; sighed; and threw out his hands despairingly. "It is useless; indeed it is useless, Mr. Norris. But I will tell you all that I can do. I will give you to-morrow a letter to Sir Francis Walsingham. I was with him abroad as you know, in the popish times of Mary: and he is still in some sort a friend of mine--but you must remember that he is a strong Protestant; and I do not suppose that he will help you. Now go to bed, dear lad; you are worn out." Anthony knelt for the old man's blessing, and left the room. * * * * The interview next day was more formidable than he had expected. He was at the Secretary's house by ten o'clock, and waited below while the Archbishop's letter was taken up. The servant came back in a few minutes, and asked him to follow; and in an agony of anxiety, but with a clear head again this morning, and every faculty tense, he went upstairs after him, and was ushered into the room where Walsingham sat at a table. There was silence as the two bowed, but Sir Francis did not offer to rise, but sat with the Archbishop's letter in his hand, glancing through it again, as the other stood and waited. "I understand," said the Secretary at last, and his voice was dry and unsympathetic,--"I understand, from his Grace's letter, that you desire to aid a popish priest called Oldham or Maxwell, arrested at mass on Sunday morning in Newman's Court. If you will be so good as to tell me in what way you desire to aid him, I can be more plain in my answer. You do not desire, I hope, Mr. Norris, anything but justice and a fair trial for your friend?" Anthony cleared his throat before answering. "I--he is my friend, as you say, Sir Francis; and--and he hath been caught by foul means. I myself was used, as I have little doubt, in his capture. Surely there is no justice, sir, in betraying a man by means of his friend." And Anthony described the ruse that had brought it all about.