“You will get more books, then?  The work will not cease?”

“It will not cease.  More books will come.  Our brave Stillyard men will not long be daunted.  But we must act with care.  For a time we must remain quiet.  We may not be reckless with the holy books, which cost much in money and in blood—­or may do, if we are rash or careless.  But nothing now can stop their entrance into a land where men begin to desire earnestly to read them for themselves.  Not all, mind you.  It is strange how careless and apathetic are the gentry of the land—­they that one would have thought to be most eager, most forward.  They stand aloof; and the richer of the trades’ guilds will have little to say to us.  But amongst the poor and unlettered do we find the light working; and in them are our chiefest allies, our most earnest disciples.”

“Yet we have many at Oxford, learned men and scholars, who would gladly welcome changes and reforms in the church; and there are many amongst the students eager after knowledge, and who long to peruse the writings of Luther and Melancthon, and see these new versions of the Scriptures.”

“Ay, I know it.  I was of Oxford myself.  It is but a few years that I left my lodging in Magdalen College.  I love the place yet.  The leaven was working then.  I know that it has worked more and more.  Our good friends Clarke and Sumner have told as much.  Is not your presence here a proof of it?  Oh, there will be a work—­a mighty work—­to do in Oxford yet; and you shall be one of those who shall be foremost in it.”

“I?” cried Dalaber, and his eyes glowed with the intensity of his enthusiasm.  “Would that I could think it!”

“It shall be so,” answered Garret.  “I read it in your face, I hear it in your voice.  The thought of peril and disgrace would not daunt you.  You would be faithful—­even unto death.  Is it not so?”

“I would!—­I will!” cried Dalaber, stretching out his hand and grasping that of Garret.  “Only tell me wherein I can serve, and I will not fail you.”

“I cannot tell you yet, save in general terms; but the day will come when you shall know.  Oxford must have books.  There will soon be no doubt as to that.  And when we have books to scatter and distribute there, we want trusty men to receive and hide them, and sell or give them with secrecy and dispatch.  It is a task of no small peril.  Thou must understand that well, my son.  It may bring thee into sore straits—­even to a fiery death.  Thou must count the cost ere thou dost pass thy word.”

“I care nothing for the cost!” cried Dalaber, throwing back his head.  “What other men have done and dared I will do and dare.  I will be faithful—­faithful unto death.”

“I shall remember,” answered Garret, with a smile upon his thin ascetic face—­“I shall remember; and the day will come—­a day not far distant, as I hope—­when I shall come to thee and remind thee of this promise.”