understand, and would breed all sorts
of pestilent heresies. The Scriptures are not of private
interpretation. They must be taught by those appointed to that
work. I grant you willingly that much is needed in the church--men
able and willing for the task; but to put the Scriptures into the
hands of every clown and hind and shopman who asks for a copy--no;
there I say you do more hurt than good."

"Our friends here do not that," spoke Magdalen thoughtfully.

"No; if they did they would have to go elsewhere. I could not lend
my house for such a purpose. As it is--"

He stopped short, and the girl looked quickly at him.

"As it is what?" she asked.

"Ah, well, it is naught. I only meant to say that, if the cardinal
were aware of all that went on, even in his own college, he might
find fault with much, and make inquisition in many places that
would be perilous for many. But as things are I trow all is safe,
if they will be content to go no farther."

"You speak of the distribution of books to others?" asked Magdalen,
who, through Dalaber, had some knowledge of the work of the
Christian Brothers.

"Yes; that is a very perilous course to take, and I fear many are
disposed towards it. There is a man--his name is Garret; he was
once a scholar of my college--Magdalen; they say he is one of the
chiefest promoters of this dangerous traffic. I hope and trust he
will keep himself away from here--from Oxford. He is a dangerous
man, in that he works much upon the minds and feelings of others. I
trust and hope he will never appear in Oxford to carry on such work
as he has done in London. He has escaped hitherto; but if he
becomes more mischievous, no man may know how it will end."

"But you would not betray him!" cried Magdalen suddenly.

He looked at her in some surprise, and she coloured under his gaze.
She had not meant much by her words, but she saw that he fancied a
purpose in them.

"Mistress Magdalen," he asked suddenly, "what do you know of this
man and his work?"

"Very little; only what Anthony Dalaber and Master Clarke have
sometimes told us when these matters have been spoken of--no more
than you have told me yourself."

"But you have sympathy with him and his object?"

"Perhaps I have. In sooth, I scarce know how I feel about such
matters. I know there is peril. I love not disobedience, nor scorn
those set over us; but yet I feel for those who desire more, and
would fain drink of the water of life out of