everfew cured him, when the
grand medicines came up faster than they went down. So says I, 'You may
go down on your four bones to feverfew.' But indeed, he is grateful at
bottom; you are all his thought and all his chat. But he sees Gerard's
folk coming around ye, and good friends, and he said only last night--"

"Well?"

"He made me vow not to tell ye."

"Prithee, tell me."

"Well, he said: 'An' if I tell what little I know, it won't bring
him back, and it will set them all by the ears. I wish I had more
headpiece,' said he; 'I am sore perplexed. But least said is soonest
mended.' Yon is his favourite word; he comes back to't from a mile off."

Margaret shook her head. "Ay, we are wading in deep waters, my poor babe
and me."

It was Saturday night and no Luke.

"Poor Luke!" said Margaret. "It was very good of him to go on such an
errand."

"He is one out of a hundred," replied Catherine warmly.

"Mother, do you think he would be kind to little Gerard?"

"I am sure he would. So do you be kinder to him when he comes back! Will
ye now?"

"Ay."

THE CLOISTER

Brother Clement, directed by the nuns, avoided a bend in the river, and
striding lustily forward, reached a station some miles nearer the coast
than that where Luke lay in wait for Gerard Eliassoen. And the next
morning he started early, and was in Rotterdam at noon. He made at once
for the port, not to keep Jerome waiting.

He observed several monks of his order on the quay; he went to them;
but Jerome was not amongst them. He asked one of them whether Jerome had
arrived? "Surely, brother, was the reply.

"Prithee, where is he?"

"Where? Why, there!" said the monk, pointing to a ship in full sail. And
Clement now noticed that all the monks were looking seaward.

"What, gone without me! Oh, Jerome! Jerome!" cried he, in a voice of
anguish. Several of the friars turned round and stared.

"You must be brother Clement," said one of them at length; and on this
they kissed him and greeted him with brotherly warmth, and gave him a
letter Jerome had charged them with for him. It was a hasty scrawl. The
writer told him coldly a ship was about to sail for England, and he was
loth to lose time. He (Clement) might follow if he pleased, but he would
do much better to stay behind, and preach to his own country folk. "Give
the glory to God, brother; you have a wonderful power over Dutch hearts;
but you are no match for those haughty islanders: you are too