The shepherd looked wonderingly from one to the other. Jack opened the volume haphazard, and put it into his uncle's hand. As the old man examined the page his expression changed from one of surprise and uneasiness, to a look of joyful awe and thankfulness. Clasping his hands and raising them to heaven, while his eyes filled with tears, he exclaimed, "I thank thee, O Lord! Now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation. May the blessing of God rest upon you, sir, whoever you are, since you have brought to my eyes what they hardly expected to see again—the Word of God in the vulgar tongue. Sir, I know not who you are, you are a rich man belike, and I am but a poor shepherd; but if any treasure I possess can purchase this book—" "Say no more, my good brother," replied the stranger. "With this book I cannot part, seeing it was the gift of a dear friend; but another copy of the Scriptures, in better print and more easy to your eyes, you shall have and welcome, and right glad am I to put it in such hands. I am, as you have said, a rich man, and I know not how I can spend my wealth better than by helping to spread the Gospel in this land which longs for it as a thirsty land for the rain of heaven." So saying, the merchant undid one of his mails, and from under the rich silks and stuffs with which it was apparently filled, he drew forth a large copy of the New Testament and put it into his host's hands. "To this book, as I said, you are freely welcome," said he. "It is the New Testament newly done into English by that learned clerk and godly man, Sir William Tyndale. I need not tell you that it is a treasure to be kept and used with caution, since many of the bishops and priests, not less than the King himself, are bitterly opposed to the reading of this translation." "It is then a service of some danger you undertake in carrying these books about with you, Master—" "My name is Richard Fleming, at your service, a merchant of London," said the stranger, as Thomas Sprat paused. "It is indeed a service of danger as you say. Yet it is not my own danger which at times appalls me and makes me almost ready to give up that which I have undertaken. It is the thought that these books, precious as they are, bring danger of persecution and even death to those who receive and read them. Even now, for aught I know, I may have thrust a firebrand into the thatch of your peaceful dwelling, or have, as it were, lighted a death-pile for this fair boy. When I think of these things I am ready to say: 'It is enough, Lord! Take away my life!' And yet the burden is laid upon me, yea, woe is me if I help not to spread the Gospel."