strong persuasion.

Not many days hereafter, we had proof that Mr. Stokes had been very
honest in his warning to us. There came constables to the Grange, who
showed a warrant to seize the body of Andrew Golding, charged with many
strange misdemeanours, but especially with refusing the Oaths of
Supremacy and Allegiance. I do not believe the poor youth ever had
refused them; but this was the common trap set for the Friends, who were
known to decline all oath-taking, because of that saying of our Lord's,
'Swear not at all,'--a harmless scruple at the worst, which never ought
to be used, as I think, against honest and peaceable subjects.

We were now heartily glad that Andrew was absent, and that we could
truly say, we knew not where he was; nor were the constables much
grieved at it. One of them found an occasion of whispering to Aunt
Golding, 'If you can get word to the young man, let him know this air is
unwholesome for him just now;' after which they went hastily away.

And now we began to be haunted with spies, our steps seeming to be
dogged even in our own garden, where we were aware of people moving
about behind trees and bushes, as if hearkening after our talk; or we
caught sight of faces peering in at the windows when we were at evening
prayer. Also our friends and neighbours began to shun us as if we had
the plague, and no one more than Mrs. Bonithorne, who had been a great
worshipper of Mr. Truelocke, but now, as we heard, blamed him openly for
his lack of true obedience to the powers that be, 'which are ordained of
God,' she would often add. It was her husband who told us this as a good
jest; but it hurt Mr. Truelocke, and he became more set on his design of
leaving the Grange, and betaking himself to his kinsfolk in Cumberland,
where among the waste and lonely mountains he might linger out his days
without offence to any. I could not hear him talk of this plan without
tears, which he perceiving tried to stop.

'Seest thou, dear child,' he would say, 'all these discomforts come upon
this house because of my abode in it; for as for poor Andrew, he is
known to be elsewhere, and however peaceably I may behave myself, you
will be allowed no peace till I am either gone out of sight like him, or
lodged in gaol for some fancied offence. Which were best, thinkest thou,
Lucy?' and when I had no answer but weeping, he would leave that point
and begin to talk of Harry's ship, the _Good Hope_, of which we had got
some ne