He said to himself that he had expected this—that he had known all along that it would come at last; but none the less did it come on him with the suddenness of a hard blow. There are certain things for which no amount of preparation will prepare us. Then would come the old horrible thought—was it worth while after all? Was he not sacrificing life and reputation for a mere dream—a figment of the imagination? Was not one religious belief as good as another—were they not alike the inventions of men? Then, how many good men had believed that which he was about to die for denying! His father believed it still—so did Father John and my lady. Might it not be true, after all? And if it were not strictly so, was it not at any rate as true as the rest? Might he not profess his own belief, and so escape till better times—those times which Master Fleming believed would surely come, when the storm should have spent itself and passed away? He might keep his Bible and read it in secret, or he might slip away and go abroad to Wittenburg, where he could confess the truth without fear. But Jack had learned already that the devil is never to be conquered by listening to and arguing with him, but by taking refuge from his malice and sophistry in the presence of God. He threw himself on his knees, and then on his face, and there poured out the bitterness of his soul. At first, he could say little more than "Lord help me! Lord deliver me!" over and over again, but by degrees he grew calmer, and the quieting and comforting influence of the Holy Spirit made itself felt in his soul. Promise after promise came thronging to his mind, full of beauty and force as he had never known them before, and at last the full crowning work of Divine grace was wrought in his soul, and he was able to say for his friend as well as for himself, "Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven." He had never felt any fear for his uncle's steadfastness, and he no longer had any as regarded his own. He felt sure that the Lord was faithful who had promised; and that strength would be given him according to the work he had to do. He rose at last, and, lighting his candle, he took out the precious little book which had so strangely come to him, but he had read barely one chapter before he heard footsteps approaching, and hastily extinguishing his light, he thrust that and his book far into the straw of his bed. He had hardly done so before his door was unlocked and Father Barnaby entered his cell. "You watch late, my son," was his first greeting; "methinks you should be glad to sleep." Jack simply inclined his head. The priest put down the lantern he carried, and sat himself down on the pallet opposite to Jack, as if prepared to enter into conversation. Jack quietly waited for him to begin. "You have heard the result of the trial to-day, I suppose," said Father Barnaby, after some minutes silence. Jack assented.