"It will be well that we both ask God for wisdom for your Lordship. But there is more than that troubling you, or I mistake." "More than that? Aye so. Not more than custom is. Father, see you yon fly a-walking over the page of this book? If I shall say, That fly is in my way, and brush him thereout, roughly, so that he die—what is it? To me, but a little matter of disease[#] whereof I have rid me. But to him it is the end of health, and life, and all things. Ah! there be many fly-crushers among us human creatures. God help the crushed flies!" [#] Inconvenience. "Does He not help them?" "How wot I? You must needs tell me what is help ere I can answer you. You mind that part of the story of my Lord Saint John Baptist, when he sent them twain to our Lord to ask at Him if He were He that should come, or no? There be will tell us that he sent them for their teaching; it could not be for his own. Methinks such have been in but few deep places, where the floods overflowed them. Was it not that the man’s heart was wrung to behold the Christ, his own kinsman, pass him by on the other side—heal and comfort and help all that came, and never turn to him? Ah, it is evil waiting with patience and faith, when Christ passeth a man by." "And you scarce twenty-three, my Lord!" said Mr. Robesart sadly, and not so inconsequently as it seemed. "After men’s reckoning. Be there any years in God’s eternity? A man, methinks, may live a thousand years in one day, whether they be years of happiness or of misery." The Earl’s head was lifted suddenly. "Father, tell me, what means He for me? It might have been so different!" And with the saddest of intonations, the young head sank again. Mr. Robesart laid his hand on that of the Earl. "He means,—’My son, give Me thine heart.’" "I thought I had done so." "Then he means,—My child, come nearer to Me. ’Each branch that beareth fruit, He shall purge it, that it bear the more fruit.’" The Earl made no reply, except to say after an interval,—"Father, I would fain find you here when I return. I hope that will be to-morrow at even." "I will await your Lordship," answered Mr. Robesart: and the interview ended. The journey to Fleshy was hot and dusty, though they arrived there before the sun had reached the meridian. My Lord Duke kept his young kinsman waiting for him some time, and when he came, took him into the most secret recess of his own private room. "Very dear Cousin," said he—and Roger felt sure from that moment that he meant mischief—"I do earnestly desire to unbosom myself to thee of all the secrets of mine heart. I am well assured that I need not unfold to thee the very numerous reasons which render our fair Lord King Richard wholly unfit to govern this realm, as being neither worthy nor capable to do so." Roger contrived to hold his tongue, and kept his amazement as much out of his eyes as he could.