“At our Master’s will--as He pleaseth shall be best,” was the answer. “But what doest thou in this peril, gentle Philip? Truly there is much to learn, but the school is hard; and if I do rightly remember thou didst of old affect most such lessons as were brief, and that in a school right easy for those of blood like thine. But get thee away to thy hills, good youth, with such speed as thou may’st, for here is naught but men dying, and men dreading, and oftentimes, alas! men dying for very dread.” “Nay, Master Chester,” said his former pupil, “here I must remain. My mother is in Westminster, and will not leave it, and without her I am resolute not to return to Cumberland. I did but come to offer my services, if I can do aught, to Master Field--for you would not have me shrink, good sir, from perils which this youthful gentlewoman braves without trembling.” “And in sooth, this youthful gentlewoman is a wayward child withal,” said Master Chester, laying his hand caressingly on Edith’s dark hair, “and truly it were better that thou should’st convey her with thee to the shelter of yonder healthful Cumberland hills, than that her willful example should keep thee within the pestilent bounds of this doomed London. What sayest thou, Mistress Edith? My good sister, Magdalene Chester, hath taken my little ones into her house in Surrey. My Mary is thine elder by a year, and wont to have a childish charge of thee, when thou wert over-young to be undutiful, as thy father remembereth well, I warrant him. But now, little maiden, be but a dutiful child and I will delegate to thee my authority over her, in yonder quiet house in Surrey. Thou wilt not say me nay, Mistress Edith? Thou wilt take the charge I give thee of my little ones, yonder in Surrey?” “Nay, nay, reverend sir,” said Edith, hastily; “I must not leave my father.” “I hear it gathers strength day by day,” said Master Field to Sir Philip, as Master Chester continued his unavailing remonstrances with Edith; “and I pray you linger not, Sir Philip, until flight may nothing avail you; for unless you had a special charge of these perishing people, as I have and my brethren, it is but tempting God to tarry. It is in His hand, surely; but save those who can minister healing to their stricken bodies, and those who have it in charge to speak of grace and deliverance to their sad souls, I would bid all who may, withdraw themselves from this afflicted place; for an’ they do not good they do evil, seeing that every man smitten with this plague, who might have timely withdrawn himself, is but another loss to this impoverished nation.” “But my mother!” said Sir Philip, looking dubiously at the Puritan. “Thy mother! Is she so eager then to meet with yonder multitude in the heavens? is she so ready to stand before yonder pure throne? Ah! for the sake of one whose gentle heart, methinks, even there, would bleed to accuse her, pray her to fly!”