"Ay, it makes all the difference who leads us when we pass through the waters," answereth Aunt _Joyce_. "I mind _Anstace_ once saying that. Most folks (said she) were content to go down, trusting to very shallow sticks--to the world, that brake under them like a reed; or to the strength of their own hearts, that had scantly the pith of a rush. But let us get hold with a good grip of _Christ's_ hand, and then the water may carry us off our feet if it will. It can never sweep us down the stream. It must spend all his force on the Rock of our shelter, before it can reach us. `In the great water-floods they shall not come _nigh_ him.'" "May the good Lord keep us all!" saith _Mother_, looking tenderly on us. "Amen!" saith Aunt _Joyce_. "Children, the biting cold and the rough walking shall be little matter to them that have reached home." SELWICK HALL, MARCH YE XIII. "_Walter_," saith _Father_ this even, "I have had a letter from my Lord of _Oxenford_." "You have so, Sir?" quoth he. "But not an answer to yours?" "Ay, an answer to mine, having come down express with the Queen's Majesty's despatches unto my Lord _Dacre_ of the North." "But, _Aubrey_, that is quick work!" saith Aunt _Joyce_. "Why, I reckon it cannot be over nine days sith thine were writ." "Nor is it, _Joyce_," saith _Father_: "but look thou, I had rare opportunities, since mine went with certain letters of my Lord _Dilston_ unto Sir _Francis Walsingham_." "Well, I never heard no such a thing!" crieth she. "To send a letter to _London_ from _Cumberland_, and have back an answer in nine days!" "'Tis uncommon rapid, surely," saith _Father_. "Well, _Walter_, my boy--for thine eyes ask the question, though thy tongue be still--my Lord of _Oxenford_ hath loosed thee from thine obligations, yet he speaks very kindlily of thee, as of a servant [Note 3] whom he is right sorry to lose." "You told him, _Father_,"--and _Wat_ brake off short. "I told him, my lad," saith _Father_, laying of his hand upon _Walter's_ shoulder, "that I did desire to have thee to dwell at home a season: and moreover that I heard divers matters touching the Court ways, which little liked me." "Was that all, _Aubrey_?" asks Aunt _Joyce_. "Touching the cause thereof? Ay." Then _Walter_ breaks forth, with that sudden, eager way he hath, which Aunt _Joyce_ saith is from _Mother_. "_Father_, I have not deserved such kindness from you! But I do desire to say one thing--that I can see now it is better I were thence, though it was sore trouble to me at the first: and (God helping me) I will endeavour myself to deserve better in the future than I have done in the past." _Father_ held forth his hand, and _Wat_ put his in it. "God helping thee, my son," saith he gravely. "I do in very deed trust the same. Yet not without it, _Walter_!"