When Moll had gone, Ian went back to the secret room. He was overwrought. This was a new peril for Aline and it made him grasp what he had not realised before,--that if the children were caught harbouring a heretic the consequences would be terrible indeed. He must get away forthwith. He went to bed, but he could not sleep. How far had he really been wise after all, to say anything to Aline about the new faith? She certainly was a most unusual child, but perplexities and responsibilities might even be too much for an adult. Was not my first instinct right, he argued, children are too delicate, too frail, too beautiful to be flung into the anxieties of life? There is a good deal to be said even for the priests, he reflected, responsibility may become too crushing altogether. Then too, his own mind was not at ease about the course that things were taking, either in Scotland or England. On the whole he felt that the Protestants were nearer the truth, but there was a beauty and a spirituality of holiness not unconnected with the beauty of holiness itself, which he saw in the old faith and which he was not willing to abandon. “I would not have a faith without beauty,” he said; “it would be a travesty of faith, an unlovely thing and no faith at all. If we do not consider the lilies which we have seen, we shall certainly never be able to understand the King in his beauty whom we have not seen; and, of a surety, this child flower hath lifted me higher than any other experience of my life.” But methinks it is meet that both sides should be presented, and some day we may grow broad-minded enough to learn each from the other. He lay awake most of the night so that when the children came down in the evening he was looking tired and worn. They came in slowly, very downcast and sad. Suppose that Ian had disappeared for good and that they would never see him again! He was seated where they could not see him at once, but when they caught sight of him they both rushed forward. “Oh, you are here safe and sound; what has happened? I am so glad,” said both in a breath. Each child flung her arms round him and kissed him. “You will pull my head off if you are not careful,” he said, laughing. “Oh, you did give us a terrible fright,” exclaimed Aline. “Yes, we came and found the room empty,” said Audry, “and we hunted all down the passage to the cave room; and I wanted to go through, but Aline said, ‘No, there is evidently something wrong and it might not be safe, we had better come round outside.’” “I am glad you were cautious,” Ian interposed. “But first we went down the other passage and found nothing, and then we set out. Aline said we must be very careful in coming near the cave, so we crept round very slowly; and suddenly, what do you think we saw?” “Well, what did you see?” “We saw ‘Moll o’ the graves,’” said Aline, “and we stooped down at once and then ran away. She did not see us, as the back of her head was turned our way.”