CHAPTER XIII. "THEY THAT SOW IN TEARS." Jack left the house and went out to walk, feeling the need of solitude to compose his thoughts. He was distressed at his sister's condition, and a little frightened when he thought of the way in which he had put himself in her power; and yet, in considering the matter, he did not see how he could have done otherwise. He was so deep in thought that he started on being spoken to, as if a bolt had fallen from the sky. "A fair evening, my young brother," said Master Fleming. "Yet you do not seem to be enjoying it greatly. Your eyes are on the ground as if your thoughts were heavy." "They are so in truth," said Jack. "I am right glad to meet you, Master Fleming, and would willingly have your advice and opinion on a grave matter." "Both are at your service," said Master Fleming. "I trust nothing unpleasant has chanced." In reply Jack told him the whole story, to which Master Fleming listened with grave attention. "I cannot see that you have done wrong," said he at last. "You might perhaps have used more caution, and yet caution is not always best. You say no one heard you but your sister?" "Nobody unless Madam Barbara might have caught a few words," replied Jack. "Her room is next my sister's. I hardly think she could have done so, or she would not have spoken so kindly and gently to me." "What did she say?" asked Master Fleming. "She bade me go pray for Anne and myself—pray for us all, were her words, I think. She is always a kind lady; but, methinks, as I remember it, there was an unusual tenderness in her voice and glance." "That is strange, if she did really overhear you," said the merchant. "You do not think your sister would betray you?" "Never, if she were left to herself," said Jack, warmly; "but you see, there is just the rub. She will not be left to herself. I have good reason to think that she has told tales of me already, from what Father Barnaby said to me at Father John's house in Holford." "How was that?" asked Master Fleming. Jack repeated the story, to which the merchant listened with attention, laughing heartily as Jack recounted with considerable humor his encounter with Father Barnaby, and the way in which he had been thrown off the scent by means of Horace and the Babylonian numbers. "Well, my brother, you certainly owe Horace a debt of gratitude," said he, when Jack had finished the story. "You say you have not seen the priest since that time?" Jack replied in the negative. "I see nothing that you can do but to wait in hope and trust for the result," said Master Fleming. "It may be that your words will be blessed to your sister after all, and that she may have grace to turn to the only source of comfort and light. Poor young maid, my heart is sad for her. Meantime I need not tell you to treat her with all kindness and forbearance, and to pray earnestly for her."