"For the purpose," said Parry, "of being in the vicinity of others cognizant of my design in this country, and of conferring with yourself in security, since my steps and motions, until I took refuge in Warwickshire, have been closely watched." "Good," returned Martin. "Now, wilt follow my advice since you have been sent to seek it?" "I will," said Parry. "Thus it is," said Martin; "dismiss all further thoughts connected with your design to-night: partake of the refreshments I have brought with me, and then seek the repose you so much need. _To-morrow_ we will talk further, taking Sir Hugh into our counsels; and so I take my leave." As he said this Martin rose, and was about to pass Parry, carefully making a circuit so as to get between him and the door, the latter following him as he did so with a doubtful eye. "You are a different man from the person I was led to expect in Father Eustace," said Parry, still dallying with his drawn dagger. "I am as you see me," said Martin, "true to my word and to the master I serve." "And you swear not to divulge?" said Parry. "Except to Sir Hugh--I swear," said Martin. "Be it so," said Parry, sheathing his dagger and stepping aside. "Good night, father." "To-morrow early I will again be with you," said Martin. "Good night", and the next moment he was outside the small apartment. CHAPTER VIII. STRATFORD-UPON-AVON. On the skirts of the county of Warwick (saith a modern author), situated on the low meadowy banks of a river, there is a little quiet country town, boasting nothing to attract the attention of the traveller but a fine church and one or two antique buildings with elaborately carved fronts of wood or stone, in the peaceful streets. There would seem to be little traffic in that place, and the passing traveller, ignorant of the locality, would scarcely cast a second look around. But whisper its name into his ear, and, hand in hand with his ignorance, his apathy will straightway depart. He will stop his horse; he will descend from the saddle; he will explore those quiet streets, he will enter more than one of the houses in that little town; he will visit that old church, he will pause reverentially before its monuments; he will carry away with him some notes--perhaps some sketches; and remember what he saw and what he felt that day to the very close of his life. Indeed you will seldom fail to see, even in that quiet little town, small groups of people on whose faces and in whose demeanour you will recognize the stranger stamp. There is something to see in those unfrequented streets; and they have come a long way to see it. What wonder! The town is Stratford-upon-Avon. Such is indeed Stratford-upon-Avon at the present time. But in the sixteenth century it presented a somewhat different aspect.