“After he had eaten like a glutton, he was ready to give me religious instruction. ‘Do you know, gracious lady,’ said he, devoutly crossing himself, ‘that you are the very likeness of the Blessed Virgin? I know it, for she communicates with me from heaven.’ “‘Does she speak to you, Simon?’ I asked. “‘The Blessed Virgin herself does so, and no one else,’ he answered. ‘And now let me tell thee, daughter, what she said to me only last night. I was just composing myself to sleep, after opening my window a little ways to let her in,--for she is in the habit of appearing to me,--when a silvery cloud came floating through the air, and the Blessed Lady alighted, came in, and took her seat upon my bed. I made haste to say my “Ave Maria,” she the while sweetly smiling; and after I had said _Ora pro nobis_ exactly nine hundred and ninety-nine times, our holy Queen of Heaven and Mother of God opened her ruby lips, showed me her pearly teeth, and revealed to me that the Barefoot Friars are the dearest to her of all the orders of monks; and she showed me an easy way to get to heaven, making me a solemn promise that whoever dies with a Barefoot Friar’s cloak on, shall assuredly go to heaven.’” “The impostor!” exclaimed Gutenberg. “Does he teach such doctrines as these? Of what avail could his cloak be in such a matter? I do not wonder that John Wickliffe was stirred up to denounce such men almost a century ago!” “When I remember,” said Anna, “that Henry II. found out one hundred murders committed by priests, I am afraid to refuse the beggar friars when they ask for food. I know not what they might do when angry. They would at least curse me, and call down the judgments of Heaven.” “Which would harm thee as little as it did Wickliffe,” said Gutenberg. “It is related of him that when he was very sick, the friars burst into his room with abusive language and curses, prophesying his death and torment, which so roused him that he sprang from his bed and drove them out, saying, ‘I shall not die, but live to declare the evil deeds of you friars.’” “Would there were more like him!” said Anna. “We have some pious priests,” replied Gutenberg, “but others are corrupt and time-serving. Occasionally one studies the Bible, and is guided by its precepts; but there are so few copies of the sacred Word, that all cannot have it if they would. If its laws were more generally known, there would be a reformation in the lives of many of these men. I had my heart on multiplying copies of this Book of books, but alas! my plans have been frustrated!” and the tears dimmed his eyes. “Never fear, thou wilt yet be prospered,” returned Anna, soothingly. “Wickliffe did not fail in what he attempted, neither wilt thou fail of accomplishing something worthy of thy aims and efforts.” “But my work is done in Strasbourg. I cannot stem this tide of prejudice and jealousy.” “Strasbourg is not all the world,” rejoined Anna. “We can remove where people and priests are not against thee.”