After a pause he continued,-- “Dost thou see them plainly? Who is their guide?” “Shame upon him, it is Nicholas Grabber; rather should they have cut my feet off than have forced me to do the like.” “Nay, my child, I left word where I was, and strict directions that no concealment should be attempted.” “Yet some other guide were more fitting than one of thine own children, shame upon him. Oh, my more than father, _do_ fly; they will drag thee to a shameful death, like thy brethren of Reading and Abingdon. Is it not written, ‘When they persecute you in one city flee ye into another?’” “Too late, my son, they are at the gate.” “We will hide thee; there must be some place to hide in here, some secret chamber.” “They are on the stairs, my son; do not let them see thee weep, be manly.” Cuthbert strove to repress his emotion and to maintain outward composure, when the door opened and three men entered, rude of aspect. “My name is Layton,” said the foremost, “and these two worthy men be Masters Pollard and Moyle; we be pursuivants of the King, and in his name, and by virtue of his warrant, we have charge to arrest thee, unless thou clear thyself by thy answers to certain questions.” “What are they?” said the Abbot, calmly. “Hast thou taken the Oath of Supremacy?” “I have, to my great sorrow.” “To his great sorrow, mark that, Master Pollard; and why to thy great sorrow?” “Because it was a treason to the Church.” “Then thou wilt not renew it?” “Never.” “That is enough to hang thee, proud Abbot, but thy talk interests me, and I would fain hear a little more from thee; what dost thou think of the King’s divorce?” “I am not fain to answer thee on that matter.” “But the law enables us to _compel_ an answer from every man, and construes silence as treason; loyal men need not conceal their thoughts, and there is no room in England for disloyalty.”[14] “Construe my silence as treason if thou wilt, I have naught to say on the matter.” “There is something more for _me_ to say. Dost thou love life, Master Abbot? For if so, in spite of thy treasons just uttered, thou mayst save it; we know full well that the names of the men who supplied money and arms for the late most unnatural and parricidal rebellion in the north, which men call the Pilgrimage of Grace, are known to thee, only reveal the secret, and thou art safe.” “Get thee behind me, Satan; dost thou think I would save my life at the expense of others, and take reward to slay the innocent?” The Abbot’s manner was so firm and decided, the answer so bravely given, that the villain started. “I will patter with thee no more, thou hoary sinner,” he said at last; “thou hast the papers concerning this rebellion concealed somewhere, and we know it; we will pull thy Abbey down, stone by stone, if we find them not: thy answers are cankered and traitorous, and to the Tower thou shalt go, the Tower of London. Ah, who is that boy?”