Catharine, blessed woman," exclaimed the old man, "art thou come to
this darkened land again? Art thou come to bear a valiant testimony as
in former years? The scourge hath not prevailed against thee, and
from the dungeon hast thou come forth triumphant, but strengthen,
strengthen now thy heart, Catharine, for Heaven will prove thee yet
this once ere thou go to thy reward."

"Rejoice, friends!" she replied. "Thou who hast long been of our
people, and thou whom a little child hath led to us, rejoice! Lo, I
come, the messenger of glad tidings, for the day of persecution is
over-past. The heart of the king, even Charles, hath been moved in
gentleness toward us, and he hath sent forth his letters to stay the
hands of the men of blood. A ship's company of our friends hath
arrived at yonder town, and I also sailed joyfully among them."

As Catharine spoke her eyes were roaming about the room in search of
him for whose sake security was dear to her. Pearson made a silent
appeal to the old man, nor did the latter shrink from the painful task
assigned him.

"Sister," he began, in a softened yet perfectly calm tone, "thou
tellest us of his love manifested in temporal good, and now must we
speak to thee of that selfsame love displayed in chastenings.
Hitherto, Catharine, thou hast been as one journeying in a darksome
and difficult path and leading an infant by the hand; fain wouldst
thou have looked heavenward continually, but still the cares of that
little child have drawn thine eyes and thy affections to the earth.
Sister, go on rejoicing, for his tottering footsteps shall impede
thine own no more."

But the unhappy mother was not thus to be consoled. She shook like a
leaf; she turned white as the very snow that hung drifted into her
hair. The firm old man extended his hand and held her up, keeping his
eye upon hers as if to repress any outbreak of passion.

"I am a woman--I am but a woman; will He try me above my strength?"
said Catharine, very quickly and almost in a whisper. "I have been
wounded sore; I have suffered much--many things in the body, many in
the mind; crucified in myself and in them that were dearest to me.
Surely," added she, with a long shudder, "he hath spared me in this
one thing." She broke forth with sudden and irrepressible violence:
"Tell me, man of cold heart, what has God done to me? Hath he cast
me down never to rise again? Hath he crushed my very heart in his
hand?--And thou to whom I committed