Dalaber would fain have been off that moment, but he saw the force of Arthur’s words; and, in truth, the long strain was telling heavily upon him, and as he stood he almost reeled from weakness.  He was in no fit state for another day’s riding; and when Freda added her voice to that of Arthur, he consented to put off his journey until after Easter.

Yet he looked straight into her eyes in making this concession, and added firmly: 

“But when the time comes I must go.  And thou wilt bid me Godspeed, my beloved; and if this journey should perchance bring me hurt—­if I should not return to thee therefrom—­thou wilt not grieve over it too much.  Thou wouldst not withhold me, Freda?”

She looked into his eyes.  She knew that peril might menace her lover.  It was as though he would, having once escaped, put his head again into the jaws of the lion.  None could say, if he and the cardinal met, what might be the result to the impulsive but not always discreet Dalaber.  It seemed as though some power from within urged him to make a confession, different from the one he had so recently signed.  It seemed as though his conscience would not let him rest—­as though he felt that he had been guilty of some act of treachery towards his Lord.

Freda understood.  She would not hold him back, though her eyes filled with tears as he put the question.

“I will never withhold thee from what thou dost deem the right path to tread, my beloved,” she answered.  “I will trust thee in the hands of the all-loving Father, and pray that He may deliver thee out of all peril.  Be not rash.  That is all I ask.  Be as Master Clarke—­gentle, faithful, true, pure of heart and blameless of speech.  I ask nothing more of thee.  Be true unto thine own better self, and thou wilt be supported and upheld through all.”

Arthur and his wife spoke much of the proposed journey.

“Wilt thou risk aught by it, my husband?” asked Magdalen, with a tender anxiety in voice and look.

“I risk but little—­nothing, perhaps; and right glad am I to proffer this petition for our dear friend and teacher, Master Clarke.  It may be we shall fail in what we seek to accomplish, and it may be that Anthony may fall once again under suspicion, and be cast into prison as a heretic.  No man can forecast these things, and he will not seek to save himself this time.

“He has suffered already from tampering with his conscience.  Perchance I overbore him too much.  It is hard to know what a man in such straits should do.  But I will seek to safeguard him all I can, and bring him safely back.  And if we win our petition, and gain liberty for those three sick prisoners, it will be worth all the risk and labour we have undergone to gain it.”

“Hast ever had speech with the cardinal before?” asked Magdalen, trembling a little at the thought.