"I cry you mercy," said Eunice, with her bright smile. "Lo' you,--'tis after this fashion. The pudding I have made a man shall eat, and thereby be kept alive. This man shall drop a word to another, which one passing by shall o'erhear,--on the goodness and desirableness of learning, I will say. Well, this last shall turn it o'er in his mind, and shall determine to send his lad to school, and have him well learned. Time being gone, this lad shall write a book, or shall preach a sermon, whereby, through the working of God's Spirit, many men's hearts shall be touched, and led to consider the things that belong unto their peace. Look you, here is a chain; and in this great chain one little link is the pudding which I made, twenty years gone." "But the man could have eaten somewhat else." "Soothly; but he did not, you see." "Or another than you could have made the pudding." "Soothly, again: but I was to make it." Clare considered this view of the case. "All things in this world, Mistress Clare, be links in some chain. In Dutchland [Germany], many years gone now, a young man that studied in an university there was caught in an heavy thunderstorm. He grew sore affrighted; all his sins came to his mind: and he prayed Saint Anne to dispel the storm, promising that he would straightway become a monk. The storm rolled away, and he suffered no harm. But he was mindful of his vow, and he became a monk. Well, some time after, having a spare half-hour, he went to the library to get him a book. As God would have it, he reached down a Latin Bible, the like whereof he had ne'er seen aforetime. Through the reading of this book--for I am well assured you know that I speak of Luther--came about the full Reformation of religion which, thanks be to God! is now spread abroad. And all this cometh--to speak after the manner of men--in that one Martin was at one time affrighted with the thunder; and, at another time, reached him down a book. Nay, Mistress Clare--in God's world be no little things!" "Mistress Eunice, in so saying, you make life to look a mighty terrible thing, and full of care." "And is life not a most terrible thing to them that use it not aright? But for them that do trust them unto God's guidance, and search His Word to see what He would have them do, and seek alway and above all things but to do His will,--it may be life is matter for meditation, yea, and watchfulness; but methinks none for care. God will see to the chain: 'tis He, not we, that is weaver thereof. We need but to be careful, each of his little link." "My links be wearyful ones!" said Clare with a little sigh. "'Tis to cut, and snip, and fit, and sew, and guard, and mend. My cousin Lysken dealeth with men and women, I with linen and woollen. Think you it strange that her work should seem to me not only the nobler, but the sweeter belike?"