"Davy Brent sent for old Doctor Berton directly," answered Jack; "and he hath been to Master Arthur every day, but Master Arthur did not desire to see a priest." "Did he say aught to show you the state of his mind?" Jack had been hesitating as to whether he ought to say anything about Arthur's religious condition; but now that the way seemed so clearly opened, he hesitated no longer. "Master Arthur begged me to read the Scripture to him, and I did so," said he. "He seemed, at first, to fear that he had betrayed himself to a spy of the priests, and when I reassured him, he showed me the scars which had been made on his wrists by the rack as he said, whereby I supposed he had been in the hands of the Inquisition somewhere in the Low Countries or in France. He seemed to fear that your worship would not receive him because he had heard the Lutheran preachers, and said it was Master Frith who told him he ought to return to his father." "My poor boy!" said Sir John, and then followed another long silence, which was hardly broken till they reached Bridgewater. The horses and man-servant were left at the inn, and Sir John walked down to Mary Brent's house attended by Jack, and followed by the wondering looks and respectful salutes of all he met, for Sir John was almost as well-known in Bridgewater as the tower of St. Mary's. "You had better go up first and see how my son is," said the knight, as they reached the door. "But what shall we say to the good woman of the house?" "I will manage that," said Jack, marvelling at his own confidence. "I can easily content her." Mary Brent in her neat widow's weeds was always fit to be seen, and welcomed Sir John with all due humility. "The dear young gentleman has been much better to-day," said she in answer to his inquiries. "He said he felt as though Master Jack had put new life into him. I hope your worship will see no harm in him," she added somewhat uneasily. "I could do nothing else than take him in when my son brought him home." "You have done quite right, and I thank you, dame," said Sir John graciously. "If the young man proves, as I think he may, a kinsman of mine, you shall be no loser by your kindness." Jack found his new friend sitting up in bed, supported by pillows, and looking eagerly toward the door. He seemed a little disappointed as Jack entered alone. "Is it you, my kind nurse?" said he. "Are you alone? I fancied I heard another voice." "A familiar voice?" asked Jack, smiling. "A voice you have heard before?" "It did seem so," replied Paul, sinking wearily back again on his pillows. "But it could have been but a sick man's fancy. I doubt I shall never live to hear that voice again." "Whose voice did you think you heard?" asked Jack; then, as Paul did not answer, "Was it your father's?" "It did, indeed, seem like his," returned Paul. "But I know it could not be. Oh, could I but once fall at his feet like the poor prodigal!"