"I do remember hearing something of it, but the matter happened long before my time, and was hushed up as much as might be. And then, who would think that Uncle Thomas, who could not have been more than fifteen at the time, would have remembered and held fast his father's teachings all these years, and after all he has gone through? It is truly wonderful!" "It is, indeed," said Jack. "You would be astonished to see how much he remembers of what he learned when he was a little lad. But, dear father, I am so glad you are not angry with me. I feared you would be so, but yet I felt that I could not keep a secret from you any longer. You have been so good and kind to me, that it made me feel like a traitor to know that I had any concealment from you." "Your secret has not been so well kept but I have had a shrewd guess at it," said his father, smiling somewhat sadly; "but I waited till you should tell it me yourself, as I felt quite sure you would do, sooner or later. But, my son, have you counted the cost? You know to what all this may lead." "Yes, father, I know it well, and have thought it over many times. If it were only myself on whom the danger and the disgrace were like to fall, I should care less; but that I should bring this trouble upon you, who have ever been the best and kindest—" Jack's voice was choked, and he turned his head away. "Nay, dear son, be not grieved for that," said his father kindly. "I see not but a man must follow his conscience wherever it leads. Neither can I see why the priests should so angrily oppose the reading of the Scripture." "If you should read it yourself, you would see," replied Jack. "There is not one word in the whole New Testament about the worship of the Holy Virgin, nor of purgatory, nor vows of chastity, nor a hundred other things which the priests teach us to believe. St. Peter himself was married, and so were St. James, and St. Philip." "But the priests say this Lutheran Gospel is not the true Scripture," remarked his father. "I know they do, and for that reason they discourage with all their might the Greek learning that is spreading so much at the universities. But, father, the Greek Testament is the very same." "And nothing about purgatory or about the masses for the dead, either?" asked his father. "Art sure, Jack?" "Not a word, father." "Then a deal of good money has been thrown away," was the next reflection of the business-like master baker. "I myself paid more than three hundred marks for masses for your mother, who was as good a woman as ever lived, barring her little peevish tempers; and twice as much for my father and mother. And the priests have robbed poor Dame Higby of almost the last penny to sing for the soul of her husband. But how have we been befooled if these things are true!" "Only read for yourself, dear sir, and you see," said Jack.