“Yea, truly, God help us!” said Master Field, “for He knoweth that this oppression is even too like to make wise men mad. To think of this--that he, whom we have laid in quiet rest to-day, would have been hunted through the country, had he lived one short month longer, after spending life and strength for this people in their extremity. Who is sufficient for these things?” “It is well,” said the other, his voice faltering with the sorrow which he restrained; “it is well that the Master hath carried him home, where evil act or statute can harm him nevermore. Thou wert a good soldier, Titus Vincent, brother and son of mine, and a faithful as ever served King; and thou art gotten to thine inheritance; the Lord keep us till we join thee. But, brother, pity me for my Mary--my poor girl.” The pity was not spoken in words; but the two fathers, old and long friends, understood each other not the less. “I can but spend a night with my little ones,” said Master Chester, after a long pause; “and God knoweth how many nights shall be spent ere I look on them again. Is it to-morrow, brother, that this dark oppression becomes law?” “Lady-day--yes, to-morrow,” was the answer; “and then, brother Chester, you join us in the North?” “My sister Magdalene dwells in mine old parish,” said Master Chester, “and so I may not take refuge with her, though she hath wherewith to give my children bread; but, brother, thou sayest well--it is bitter and hard that I should not dare venture to tarry with them a day, lest pains of imprisonment and evil report come upon me. God strengthen us to bear all. For Cumberland? Yes; thy kinsman, Philip Dacre, offers me shelter in his house, for thy sake, and for mine own. God wot, a painful shelter, brother Field; eating of that for which I have not labored; yet to the Lord, who hath ordained this poverty, be all thanks, because He hath ordained also succor for His poor. And thou, brother, goest thou not also to Thornleigh?” “Nay,” said Master Field, “my Edith goeth with me wherever I go; and, albeit, Philip Dacre is her kinsman; it can not be to Thornleigh.” “Our Father bless the little one; she hath a stout heart, and a valiant,” said Master Chester; “and truly I admire and marvel how the Lord bringeth the sweet out of the bitter, as truly, brother, it is oft His good pleasure to bring the bitter out of the sweet. A dark dawn, and a bright noonday, for thy twain, and as fair a morrow as ever broke, and as sad an early even as ever fell for mine. So are our meetings and our sunderings here; and, truly, for the brief joy of them, what better are we than sundered in our very meetings; but the Lord’s will be done.” “He will console thee, brother,” said Caleb Field. “Thy Mary is young, and fresh, and hopeful. The blast will bend the youthful spirit, but it will not break it.”