On returning to his room he had paid a visit to the monk Robert Ferrar, who lived on the same staircase, and was a friend of Garret’s, and had ofttimes made purchases from him of forbidden books.  As they sat and talked in Ferrar’s room, Anthony espied a copy of Francis Lambert on St. Luke, and eagerly pounced upon it.  Although he had left behind him all dangerous books, and had resolved to give himself up to the study of the law, his heart felt hungry and unsatisfied, and he begged leave to carry the volume to his own chamber, that he might indulge himself in its study and in pious meditation thereupon, preparatory to the exercises of the Lord’s day, so close at hand.

Ferrar made no objection, only remarking that he himself was going out, and should not return until after compline, and asking Dalaber to take care of the book and keep it safe till he should come and claim it, for it was dangerous to leave such volumes where any prying eyes might find them.

So now Dalaber was sitting in his own lodging, with the door locked upon him, reading greedily from the open page, and drinking in, as it were, refreshment and strength, when he was roused from his reverie by the sound, first of voices, and then by a sharp rap upon the panels of his door.

His heart gave a great throb, and then stood still.  He sat mute and motionless, giving no sign of his presence.  Something seemed to warn him that this visit, whatsoever it might be, boded him no good.  The knock was repeated more loudly.  But he still gave no answer, sitting very still, and listening with all his might.  He heard no more the sound of voices.  Nobody spoke or called his name.  But after a very brief pause the knock was repeated a third time, and with that fierce energy which bespoke some strong emotion; and suddenly it came over Dalaber that perhaps it was some one who was in trouble, or was in need of him or his help.  Were not the brethren likely to be brought into sudden peril or distress?  Might it not even be a friend come to warn him of approaching danger?  At least it seemed to him that he must open the door and inquire; and so rapid was the passage of these thoughts that the reverberation of the third summons had scarcely died away before he had turned the key and flung open the door.

Then he started back in startled amazement.

“Master Garret!” he gasped.

“Shelter me, friend Anthony,” gasped Garret, whose face was white as paper, “for I am a man undone.  They have captured me once.  I have escaped them.  But they will have me again if I make me not away with all speed.”

Dalaber dragged him almost roughly within the room, and closed the door with a bang, for he had seen on the staircase the eager face of one of the college servants; and the young man, immediately upon hearing Garret’s words, had slipped downstairs—­Dalaber guessed only too well upon what errand.

“Alas! why have you spoken such words?” he cried, almost fiercely.  “Know you not that by so doing in the hearing of that young man, and by such uncircumspect fashion of coming hither, you have disclosed yourself and utterly undone me?”