_he_ fareth but evil, and for _you_--"

He smiled the same grave smile.

"Well--_well_, Master Pynson," said Margery, quickly. "I fare well. I
cannot go where is not Christ, and where He is, howsoever I fare, I must
needs fare well. And for the child--come and see him."

She led the way noiselessly to the adjoining room. Little Geoffrey lay
in Alice's arms in a heavy sleep. His breathing was very quick and
short, and his face flushed and fevered. Richard stood looking silently
at him for a few minutes, and then returned with Margery to the oaken
chamber. She offered him refreshments, but he declined them. He had
supped, he said, already; and ere breakfast-time, he looked to be on his
way back to the North. Margery wrote a short letter to Dame Lovell, and
intrusted it to him; and then she sat by the table, wearily resting her
head upon her hand.

"I pray you, good my Lady," said Richard, suddenly, breaking the spell
that seemed to bind them, "what meaneth this bruit [noise, rumour] of
heresy that I hear of you?"

Margery looked up with a strange light in her eyes.

"You remember, I trow, asking Master Carew for to lend me yon book?--and
wending with me to hear Master Sastre's homily?"

"I mind it well."

"_That_ meaneth it. That because I read Christ's words, and love them,
and do them, so far as in my poor power lieth, the charge of heresy is
laid at my door. And I ween they will carry it on to the end."

"_The end_?" said Richard, tremblingly,--for he guessed what that meant,
and the idea of Margery being subjected to a long and comfortless
imprisonment, was almost more than he could bear. His own utter
powerlessness to save her was a bitter draught to drink.

"Ay, the end!" she said, with the light spreading all over her face.
"Mind you not how Master Sastre asked us if we could sue the Lamb along
the weary and bitter road? Is it an evil thing to sue the Lamb, though
He lead over a few rugged stones which be lying in the path? Nay,
friend, I am ready for the suing, how rough soever the way be."

Richard sat looking at her in silence. He had always thought her half
an angel, and now he thought her so more than ever.

"I trow you know these things, good friend?" said Margery, with her sad,
faint smile. "You know, is it not, how good is Christ?"

"I am assaying for to know," answered Richard, huskily. "I have been
a-reading of Master Carew's book, since I found you counted it so great
a t