Meantime, in the darkness of that February morning, Thomas Garret
stepped forth from the sheltering walls of his still-beloved
Oxford, and turned his rapid steps in a southerly and westerly
direction.
His heart was hot within him as he pushed along, choosing the most
unfrequented lanes and paths. This was not the first time he had
been hunted, and he had acquired some of the instincts of the
quarry. He knew how to lie hidden awhile in some sheltered nook,
listening and watching, himself unseen. He knew how to avoid
notice, and how to pass through public places with the quiet air of
confidence which drew no sort of attention towards himself. His
priest's gown and hood would be a protection to him after he had
shaken himself clear of the pursuit which might be set afoot by the
proctors. He had Anthony Dalaber's letter in his wallet, and bread
sufficient for the day's needs. He could fearlessly present himself
at any religious house when he had reached another county, and he
was certain of being well received and cared for by the monks, who
received all travellers kindly, but especially those of the
"household of faith."
He spoke the words half aloud, and then a strange sound broke from
his lips, half a laugh and half a groan.
"The household of faith! O my God! What would they say if they knew
that he who came to them as one of the faithful, was flying an
outcast from the wrath of the cardinal, branded as a dangerous
heretic? O Lord, be with me, and guide me right. Am I not faithful?
Do I not love Thee, O Lord? Am I not sworn to Thy holy service? O
Thou who judgest the hearts of men, and knowest all from the
beginning, teach me what I should speak and do. Teach me whither I
should bend my steps. I am ready to suffer persecution and death
for Thy sake and the truth's. Only make me to see what Thou wilt
have of me, that I may know whether Thou hast set before me an open
door elsewhere, and art driving me thither, or whether Thou wouldst
that I should return whence I came, and abide there whatever may
befall me."
For the farther Garret travelled, the more fearful did he become
that he was doing wrong in taking flight after this sort. To fly
before his persecutors was one thing--his conscience did not
upbraid him for that; but to go into Dorsetshire, to present
himself to Anthony Dalaber's brother under a false name, to become
curate to a man whose own brother termed him a "rank Papist"--was
that indeed his bounden duty? Was that a right or righteous course
to pursue? But if he gave up that purpose, what next? He knew not
whither to turn, or where he might go with safety. The arm of the
cardinal was long. He had eyes that reached far and wide. All
Garret's own haunts were likely to be closely watched.
The man felt the fire of zeal burning hotly within him. He looked
up into the heavens above him, and he felt as though a great work
yet lay before him. He broke out into songs of praise and
thanksgiving. It seemed to him as though he saw written in the sky
glorious promises for those who should endure steadfastly to the
end.
There was something of the prophetic spirit in the man. At times
the world about him would recede from him, and he would be left, as
it were, alone upon some vast immeasurable height, seeing as in a
dream the things of God and the mysteries of the heavenlies
stretched out before him. Such a moment came upon him late in that
day as he journeyed. He seemed to see a vast and mighty
struggle--an overturning of thrones, principalities, and powers; a
far-reaching upheaval in church and in state; a coming judgment,
and a coming glory.
He awoke as from a trance, with his head on fire and his heart hot
within him. Words sprang to his lips, and he gave them utterance
with a sense of power not his own.
"The Lord will arise. He will judge between man and man, between
good and evil, between truth and falsehood. The Lord Himself is our
helper. Of whom shall we be afraid? He is the upholder of the
righteous cause. Shall we fear what man can do unto us? The time
will come when all shall come to the knowledge of the truth; He has
promised, and His word cannot fail. Let us put our trust and
confidence in Him, and fear no evil, even though we walk through
the valley of the shadow of death. He will be with us to the end,
and will overcome in us, when we are too weak to overcome for
ourselves."
The shades of evening were beginning to fall, and when the reaction
set in after this period of spiritual exultation, Garret found
himself somewhat weary and exhausted. He had not slept at all
during the previous night, and he had been afoot from earliest
dawn. He had accomplished a long day's journey, and had only eaten
a little bread and drunk of the water of the brooks he had passed
on his road. He began to desire the shelter of a roof and the
cheering warmth of a fire, for the wind had risen, and blew upon
him with keen and nipping cold, and his feet were sore from his
long travel over rough ground.
He had breasted the rise of a long incline, and now stood at its
crest, looking rather wistfully and eagerly over the darkening
landscape in search of some human habitation. He knew to a certain
extent where he was, and that within some few miles there was a
monastic establishment of some repute. But five miles seemed a
weary way to him now, and a sense of repulsion had come over him at
the thought of presenting himself at any monastery in his priestly
garb. Not that he in any sort repudiated the sacred calling, but he
felt that if the truth were known the monks would regard him as a
wolf in sheep's clothing; and he was experiencing a sense of
distaste for any sort of subterfuge, whilst hesitating about giving
himself up, lest he should be deserting the cause he had at heart
by robbing it of one of its most active members. If the Lord had
work for him still to do, how gladly would he do it!
As he remained resting awhile on the hilltop, and gazing about him
in search of some indication of human habitation, he suddenly saw
the beam of some small light glimmering through the increasing
darkness; and uttering an exclamation of pleasure, he bent his
steps in its direction, confident of finding some human habitation
at last.
It was not easy to keep the light always in view, but he managed to
bear in that direction, and came at last into a region of meadow
land, where there were some sheepfolds and pens, in which the
flocks had been folded for the night, and which were watched over
by a dog, who sprang barking towards Garret, but was pacified when
he spoke gently to him, and showed by his actions that he had no
intentions upon the sheep.
From where he stood he was able to see that the light glimmered out
of an unglazed window in a wattled cabin, evidently the sleeping
place of the shepherd. After Garret had quieted the dog, he
remained gazing for a few minutes at this steady light, and then
(he scarcely knew why) he crept up very softly towards the little
cabin, and looked in at the orifice.
The sight that he saw aroused his quickened interest. The place was
very small--only large enough to contain a few sacks of straw for
the bed, over which a couple of fleeces had been thrown by way of
covering, a small rough table, on which a rush light stood,
together with a few wooden platters, a loaf of bread, and a
pitcher. A box was the only seat, and upon it sat a grizzled, bent
old man, with his back towards the window, and his head bent low
over the table.
By shifting his position very slightly, Garret was able to see that
he was bending over a book which lay open beneath the rush light,
and that with his forefinger he was pointing slowly along the line.
Garret held his breath in astonishment. In towns, at this time,
would be found here and there a humble artisan or labouring man who
could read, and amongst such the desire for the printed Scriptures
was always keen and ardent. But out here in these lonely wilds, far
away from the haunts of man, it was a strange sight to see an old
shepherd with a book before him. The boys of the rising generation
were beginning to be taught reading and writing in the grammar
schools now springing up in the towns, but hinds of the age of this
man were generally absolutely ignorant of letters in any form
whatever.
The sound of a voice broke the stillness. The old man had begun to
read the words aloud.
"I will--smite the--shepherd--and the--sheep--shall be scattered--"
Suddenly a great wave of emotion came upon Garret, and he uttered a
strangled cry. The old man hastily thrust his book into the bosom
of his coarse tunic, and gazed out of the opening with a strange
expression of doubt and fear.
"What was that?" he asked, as he rose to his feet; and Garret,
flinging back his priest's hood, looked fearlessly in at the
aperture.
"It is a friend, who loves the holy Word of God, and loves all who
are bold enough to love and cherish it, also a man to whom a
message has been sent through you, my worthy friend. Open the door
and let us clasp hands, for I know that the Lord hath sent me
hither, and hath put a word in thy mouth which is meant for me.
What shall become of the sheep if the shepherd be smitten? But
shall the shepherd flee, unless he be an hireling and love not the
sheep? The shepherd must watch yet over his flock, even though he
hold himself away from the hand of the smiter. I see it all--I see
it all! The Lord hath given me light!"
Not one syllable of this eager torrent of words did the old
shepherd comprehend; but be recognized the voice of friendship and
comradeship in the unseen speaker, and he unfastened his rude door
and bade the stranger enter. As Garret stepped into the light in
his priest's gown the man gave a little start of surprise.
"Nay, fear not," answered Garret; "I am God's priest--not the
Pope's. If thou dost own the words of Holy Writ, perchance thou
hast even heard the name of Thomas Garret. It is he who stands
before thee now."
The shepherd gazed at him for a moment as one in a dream, and then
he seized his hand and pressed it to his lips.
"It is he! it is he! I see it now! It is he whose words awoke my
sleeping soul! O sir, I heard you preach once in London town,
whither I had been sent on a charge of sheep stealing, but was
released. And, indeed, of that offence I was innocent. But my life
had been full of other evils, and I might well have sunk into the
bottomless pit of iniquity, but that I heard you preach; and those
words of fire entered into my soul, and gave me no rest day or
night. Then I heard of the Christian Brethren, and they received
and comforted me; and when I could earn the money for it, I bought
this copy of the Holy Gospels. I have had it these two years now. I
had learned to read by that time, and when I had bought it I wanted
nothing so much as a quiet life, away from the haunts of men, where
I could read and ponder and study the blessed Word without fear of
man."
"So you took to the life of a shepherd--a calm and peaceful life,
that reminds us of many holy things."
"I had tended sheep in my youth, and in these parts, sir, before I
took to those wilder ways which well-nigh cost me my life. I came
back; and some remembered me, and I got employment as shepherd. And
here I hope and trust to end my days in peace. But there be
whispers abroad that the cardinal and the abbots and priors will
make search after the precious books, and rob us of them, and brand
us as evildoers and heretics."
"Alas, and that is all too true," answered Garret, with a deep
sigh. "In me you see a fugitive from the wrath of the cardinal. I
left Oxford at dawn of day, and have fled apace through the wildest
paths ever since. I am weary and worn with travel, and seeing this
light gleaming forth, I thought I would seek here for rest and
shelter; but little did I hope to find one of the brethren in this
lonely cabin, and one who may himself suffer in the cause of truth
and righteousness."
"We shall not suffer more than the Lord did," answered the old man,
with a sudden illumination of feature, "nor more than He sees good
for us. It may be that He wants His martyrs in all generations and
in all lands. Does it not speak somewhere in the blessed Book of
being made perfect through suffering?"
It was wonderful to Garret to find such depth of comprehension and
power of expression in this apparently illiterate and humble old
man. To be sure, his accent was rough and homely, but the thoughts
to which he gave utterance were deep and pure.
Soon Garret found himself sitting over the turf fire, sipping
gratefully at the warm milk, in which his bread lay soaked, and
telling the old man the whole history of his wanderings, his peril,
and his doubts about the plan laid down for him with regard to the
curacy he had been offered.
The more he talked, the more did Garret revolt against the idea of
presenting himself to Master Dalaber in Dorsetshire under a false
name and in false colours. He could not believe that this could be
pleasing to God, and he saw that the old shepherd, though diffident
of speech, was of the same opinion.
"I will not do it," he said at last, "I will not do it. I cannot. I
will retrace my steps to Oxford, but will use all care and
discretion to avoid notice. They will by this time have discovered
my flight, and Oxford is the last place in which they will now be
seeking me. I will enter it by night, slip into one of my old
hiding places there, get speech with Anthony Dalaber, and tell him
how I have changed my plan, so that he may know I am not with his
brother. Then I will put off my priest's garb, and sally forth in
the night, and make my way over to Wales, and then to Germany,
where I can work with the faithful there, and perchance be of
greater use to the cause than in this land, where for the present I
am so watched and hunted.
"This priest's garb has become hateful to me. I feel in it as
though I were acting a lie, albeit I shall ever hold myself the
minister and priest of God. It deceives men, who look to see in
every garbed priest a servile slave of cardinal and Pope. I can
never, never be such an one; wherefore let me cast away the outer
trappings, and cease to deceive the eyes of men."
The shepherd, who only partially followed this monologue, which
Garret uttered half to himself, half to his companion, understood
this last argument, and slowly nodded his head. There was beginning
to grow up in the minds of many a fear and horror of the
priesthood, not by any means always undeserved, though greatly
exaggerated in many quarters.
But to go back to the perils of Oxford to secure a secular dress
seemed a far cry; yet, when the men proceeded to talk the matter
over, they saw no other way by which such garb could be obtained.
Neither had any money; and it might be dangerous for Garret to show
himself at any town to purchase secular raiment there, even if he
could beg money at a monastery for his journey. He thought he knew
the place well enough to make the experiment, without too much risk
either to himself or to others, and before he stretched himself
upon the shepherd's bed of straw that night his mind was fully made
up.
But upon the morrow he was forced to admit that one day's rest
would be necessary before he could make the return journey. He was
so stiff and exhausted by his long day's travel, and the tension of
nerve which had preceded it, and his feet were so sore in places,
that he decided to remain with the shepherd for another day and
night; and then at dawn, upon the following morning, which would be
Friday, he would start forth again, reach Oxford after dark, find
some hiding place there for the night, and after making the needful
change in his dress, and advising his friends of the change of his
plan, he would start forth a free man once more by night, and
instead of tying his hands by allying himself with any Papist
parish priest, he would cross the water, find himself amongst
friends there, and return later to his native shores, bringing with
him stores of precious books, which should be distributed to eager
purchasers as they had been before.
The hours of the day did not seem long to the tired traveller as he
mused upon these things. The shepherd went about his daily toil,
but often came indoors for a while to talk with his guest; and by
the time the second night arrived, Garret was so far rested and
refreshed that he had no doubt about making good his return journey
upon the morrow, reckoning that by that time, at least, all hue and
cry after him in Oxford would be over.
He slept soundly and dreamlessly through the night, and was
awakened at dawn by the old man, who had made him the best
breakfast his humble house could furnish, and waited lovingly upon
him till he had satisfied his hunger and was ready to start upon
his way. Then Garret embraced him as a brother, thanked him
heartily for his hospitality, gave him the blessing the old man
begged, receiving one in return.
He set his face joyfully towards the city from which he had fled,
for it seemed to him as though he had fled thence somewhat
unworthily--as though he had not shown a rightful trust in God. It
was a rash step he was taking now, but somehow that thought excited
in him no anxiety. He felt a great longing to see his friend
Dalaber again, to explain matters afresh to him, and to start forth
free from all trammels and disguises.
He was not, however, rash in exposing himself to recognition by the
way, and kept to those secluded byways which had served him so well
on his other journey. He scarcely saw a soul the whole of the long
day of travel, and although he grew very weary and his feet again
gave him pain, he plodded on with a light heart, and was rewarded
just before the last of the daylight failed him by a glimpse of the
distant towers and buildings of Oxford.
His heart yearned over the place when he saw it. It came upon him
that here he would stay and abide the consequences. He felt strong
to endure all that might be laid upon him. If it were God's
pleasure that he should suffer in the cause, would He not give him
strength to bear all? For a moment he forgot the peril which might
come to others from his apprehension. He only felt that if the
martyr's crown were indeed to be his (a thing of which he had a
strong presentiment), it might well come soon as late. And
therefore, when he reached the city at dark, he slipped into the
town itself, instead of lurking outside, as first he had intended,
and made his way through the dark, narrow streets to a certain
humble lodging, which he had used before, when Dalaber had not been
able to receive him.
He met not a creature on his way. He did not think his entrance had
been marked as he passed through the gates. A thick, drizzling rain
was falling, which had wet him to the skin, and which seemed to be
keeping every one within doors. He found the door of his old
lodging unlocked and the place empty, save for a little firing in a
closet, which he soon kindled into a warming blaze.
He had bought food at midday in a hamlet through which he passed,
and there was enough left in his wallet to provide him with a
frugal supper. He dried his clothes at the friendly warmth of the
fire, and though the room was destitute of bedding, there were a
few sacks on the floor. Laying himself down upon these before the
fire, he was soon plunged in a deep and dreamless slumber.
How long he slept he never could have guessed. He afterwards knew
that it was midnight when he woke. What roused him was the sound of
trampling feet on the stairs outside, and the voices of persons
ascending. He lay for a few moments in the darkness, which the few
smouldering embers of the dying fire scarcely served to illuminate;
and then in a sudden access of alarm be sprang to his feet and made
for the door.
If escape had been in his mind, he was too late. Already the door
was burst open. A flood of light from a couple of lanterns dazzled
his eyes for some moments, so that he could only see that several
men were in the room, and a stern voice exclaimed, "That is the
man! Seize him!" Then he knew that his hour had come, and that he
was arrested.
Next minute he saw clearly, and found himself confronted by the
proctors of the university, who regarded him with stern faces. Who
had given them warning that Garret had returned to Oxford has
never, I believe, been known--at least there is no mention of this
made in the history of the known facts. But some person must have
recognized the man, tracked him to his lair, and set the bulldogs
of the cardinal upon him. He was taken at midnight upon the night
of his secret return, and now stood a helpless prisoner in the
hands of those set upon his track.
He looked at them with calm fearlessness. His spirit rose to the
peril, and his mien was dauntless.
"Upon what charge am I arrested?" he asked quietly.
"You will hear that at the right time and in the right place," was
the stern reply; "we are not here to bandy words with you. Put on
your gown and hood, though you so little deserve such garb, and
come whither you are led. Force will not be used unless you compel
it."
Garret resumed the outer garments he had laid aside for the night,
and pronounced himself ready to follow them whither they would.
"Take him to Lincoln College," spoke the senior proctor to his
servants. "Dr. London will keep him in ward, and deal with him in
the first place."
A slight smile passed over Garret's face. Dr. London of Lincoln was
well known as one of the most bitter persecutors of the new
opinions, and was reported to have stocks and other implements of
punishment in a room in his house, which were used upon the
recalcitrant and obstinate according to his pleasure. If he were to
be Dr. London's prisoner, then farewell to any hopes of mercy.
Nevertheless he uttered no word as the men led him through the
silent streets. The rain had ceased, and the moon was shining in
the sky. The whole city seemed asleep as they hastened along.
But as they approached Lincoln College signs of life appeared. In
the rector's house lights gleamed from several windows; and as
Garret was pushed in at a side door, which was securely locked
behind him, and led into a large, square hall, he saw the stern and
frowning face of Dr. London gazing at him from the stairway, and a
loud and masterful voice exclaimed:
"Take him into the strong room, and lock him up for the night. I
will have speech with him upon the morrow."
Garret was led down a short, flagged passage, and thrust through an
open door into a perfectly dark room. The door was closed, the bolt
shot home, and he was left in silence and blackness to the company
of his own thoughts.