hat would be set against the
panel-door.

"Why, that is very shrewd!" cried Mr. John. He looked round the faces
for approval.

For an hour or so, the party sat and watched him at his work; and
Marjorie listened to their talk. It was of that which filled the hearts
of all Catholics at this time; of the gathering storm in England, of the
priests that had been executed this very year--Mr. Paine at Chelmsford,
in March; Mr. Forde, Mr. Shert and Mr. Johnson, at Tyburn in May, the
first of the three having been taken with Father Campion at
Lyford--deaths that were followed two days later by the execution of
four more--one of whom, Mr. Filbie, had also been arrested at Lyford.
And there were besides a great number more in prison--Mr. Cottam, it was
known, had been taken at York, scarcely a week ago, and, it was said,
would certainly suffer before long.

They talked in low voices; for the shadow was on all their hearts. It
had been possible almost to this very year to hope that the misery would
be a passing one; but the time for hope was gone. It remained only to
bear what came, to multiply priests, and, if necessary, martyrs, and
meantime to take such pains for protection as they could.

"He will be a clever pursuivant who finds this one out," said Mr. John.

The carpenter looked up from his work.

"But a clever one will find it," he said.

Mr. Thomas was heard to sigh.

III

It was on the afternoon of the following day that Marjorie rode up to
her house with Janet beside her, and Hugh Owen walking by her horse.

He had finished his work at Padley an hour or two after dawn--for he
worked at night when he could, and had then gone to rest. But he had
been waiting for her when her horses were brought, and asked if he might
walk with her; he had asked it simply and easily, saying that it might
save his losing his way, and time was precious to him.

* * * * *

Marjorie felt very much interested by this lad, for he was no more than
that. In appearance he was like any of his kind, with a countryman's
face, in a working-dress: she might have seen him by chance a hundred
times and not known him again. But his manner was remarkable, so wholly
simple and well-bred: he was courteous always, as suited his degree; but
he had something of the same assurance that she had noticed so plainly
in Father Campion. (He talked with a plain, Northern dialect.)

Presently she opened on that very point; f