John De Cobham next proceeded to inform the boys concerning the arrangements which he and their father had made for them. The latter was anxious for them to be away from the Tower for various reasons. He was fully aware that an attack upon it was meditated by Arundel, and he wished his sons, who could be no assistance to him, to be as far removed from the danger as possible. Then, besides, he wished that they should enjoy the instructions of some learned man, an advantage it was impossible for them to obtain in their retired home. Lord Cobham agreed with him, and mentioned a certain Roger Markham, formerly curate of Romney in Kent. The nobleman was also desirous of sending messages concerning his escape and other matters to his friends in London, for which place he wished the boys immediately to depart. Geoffrey’s free, high spirit longed for more of the world than was to be seen from the narrow boundaries of the Tower domain. He had been once to London, and it seemed to him a land of delights; so that the very thought of going there to view all its wonders, and mingle with those of his own age, caused his face to flush with pleasure and his heart to beat fast with hope. Hubert’s heart also leaped for joy; but his thoughts were not his brother’s thoughts. His prayer was answered; he might now go forth and labor for the Lord, and learn how to preach the glad gospel tidings--gospel in the fullest sense of the word, good news of freedom from Satan’s chain, and the galling yoke of popish traditions. He might read the whole of those tracts from the pen of Wickliffe, of which he had only as yet seen fragments. But more than all, he might see a _whole Bible_! The one which his father had procured with difficulty, and kept with danger, was not entire--some chapters from the New Testament were wanting, and nearly all the historical books of the Old. These this Lollard child longed to feast upon with an earnestness which would shame many a Christian of the present day, whose legible, perfect Bible is ever _at_ his hand, but seldom _in_ it. These joyful thoughts were followed by painful ones. Their father, who had been the only companion and protector of their solitary boyhood, father and mother in one, was united to them by no common tie. They had shared, as children seldom do, not only in his cares, and doubts, and sorrows, but also in his joys, and hopes, and consolation. Him they must leave, and also the dear old Tower, every corner of which was associated with pleasant home remembrances, and it must be a long time before they saw either their home or their father again, if, in these uncertain times, they ever should. But the Lord had need of them; they had put their hands to the plough--should they draw back?