“Come and sit by the fire, lad, the day is cold.” John came as invited. “I heard you asking for Walter Margrove,” said the stranger, “he will not be here for some time. I hope your business is not of importance.” “Well,” said the boy, “I must just wait, unless you could tell me where he is to be found.” “That could not I,” replied the other. “I know he was going to Newcastle and then up Tyne and down Tees; after that I think he was going to Skipton and West to Clitheroe and then North. He should be somewhere on the Tees now, I reckon, perhaps down as far as Rokeby.” “Do you know the Tees?” said John. The man lifted his grey deep set eyes; they had a far away look in them, as though he did not see the boy before him. They were watching the Tees come over the High Force and the rainbow that hung in the quivering spray. “Yes, I know the Tees,” he said at length. “I know the Tees. “Do _you_ know the Tees?” he went on; and it seemed to John that the hollow eyes in the sick man’s face looked at him hungrily. “Maybe you come from those parts yourself.” “I do,” said John; “I was born and bred in Upper Teesdale.” “What is your name?” “John Arnside.” The man looked at him and then the sad eyes seemed to brighten a little. “John Arnside, son of Janet Arnside?” he asked. “Yes,” said John, wondering what was coming next. The man got up and closed the door softly, he then came back and held out his hand to the boy. “I am so glad to see you, John; I know about you. I heard you asking for Walter Margrove, and oh,” he continued, apprehensively, “I do hope it is nothing about Mistress Aline that brings you here. Yes, I know quite well who you are and you may trust me.” John’s was a simple nature and not easily suspicious; he just hesitated a moment and then reflected that if he merely said what was known to every one he could not do any harm. Walter Margrove’s part in the matter, he could keep for the present as a second string to his bow. “They say that Mistress Aline is a heretic,” he said, “and they are going to burn her.” The man clutched at the table to try and prevent himself from falling; the shock was so terrible in his weak condition; but he slipped back and was only saved by the boy catching him as he fell. “O God,” he exclaimed, “not so, not so.” He then made a tremendous effort and pulled himself together, but it was enough for John, there was no doubt that this stranger was in some way as interested in Aline’s welfare as himself. “We must save her then,” said the stranger in a steady voice, while within him his thoughts and feelings tossed as in a storm. “Marry though, what are we to do?” “Let us sit down and think-- Now look you here; it is not easy to think quickly, but we must act quickly. Can you get speech of Mistress Aline?” “No,” answered John; “she is confined to her room, but old Elspeth sees her.” “Can you write, John?” “Gramercy no, Master, you would hardly expect the likes of me to be able to do that.”