It was a pleasant chamber, and he was kindly welcomed by Ferrar, who heard with great concern of Garret’s peril.  He himself had not fallen under any suspicion as yet, so far as he knew; and he agreed with Fitzjames that Dalaber had better keep himself very quiet for the next few days, prosecuting his studies with zeal, and not showing himself much in the streets.  It was to be hoped that the flight of Garret, when known, would avert further peril from Oxford; but as Dalaber had certainly been his closest comrade and companion during his visit, it behoved him to have a care that he excited no more suspicion.

“‘When they persecute you in one city, flee unto another,’” quoted Fitzjames, as he settled his last load in Dalaber’s new lodging, which was beginning to look a little habitable, though still in some confusion.  “That is sound Scripture, is it not? and sound sense into the bargain.  But the town seems quiet enough to me now; I have gone to and fro in many of the streets, and I have heard and seen nothing to alarm.”

Dalaber heaved a sigh of relief.  He was nerving himself to meet his fate bravely, whatever that fate might be; but the prospect of being arrested and charged with heresy or the circulation of forbidden books was sufficiently unnerving, and the more so to one whose life seemed opening out so full of promise and crowned with the blessing of love.

“I must see Freda!” he suddenly exclaimed, as the shades of evening began to fall.  “What does she know of this matter, Fitzjames? has it reached her ears that I may be in any peril?”

“I trow not; I have told her nothing.  She may have heard that the proctors are seeking Master Garret.  I know not.  When I came away this morn nothing was known at the Bridge House; but if she has heard aught since, she will be anxious for you and for him alike.”

“Verily yes, and I will go and show myself, and reassure her,” cried Dalaber, throwing on his cloak and cap.  “I have time enough and to spare to set my things in order later.  I have not seen Freda for full three days.  I must e’en present myself tonight.”

“I will go, too,” answered Fitzjames; “and let us avoid the city walls and gates, and take the meadow paths past Durham College and Austin Friars, for it were best you did not show yourself abroad too much these next few days.  I trust that afterwards all peril will be at an end.”

There was a clear saffron sky above them, and the crescent moon hung there like a silver lamp.  The peace and hush of eventide was in the air, and fell like a charm upon Dalaber’s fevered spirit.  The sound of the angelus bell was heard from several quarters, and as they passed St. Bernard’s Chapel they stepped into the building, and remained kneeling there a brief while, as the vesper service was chanted.

Soothed and refreshed, and feeling more in harmony with life and its surroundings, Dalaber pursued his way, his arm linked in that of his friend.