Cuthbert answered, without the least hesitation: 

“I will.”

Chapter 11:  The Lone House On The River.

“Cuthbert, do not go—­ah, do not go!”

“And wherefore not, my Cherry?”

“I am afraid.  I had such dreams last night.  And, Cuthbert, didst thou not heed?  Notedst thou not how in handing the salt at supper thy hand shook, and it was spilled?  I like not such auguries; they fill my heart with fear.  Do not go—­ah, do not!”

Cuthbert smiled as he caressed his little love, not averse to feeling her soft arms clinging round his neck, yet quite disposed to laugh at her youthful terrors.

“But what dost thou fear, sweetheart?”

“I fear everything,” she replied, with inconsequent vehemence.  “I remember the stories I have heard of the wiles of the priests, and how they tempt unwary men to their destruction.  What is this Father Urban to thee, that thou shouldst risk aught for him?  I will not let thee go—­I will not!”

“Father Urban saved my life.”

“And thou hast saved his.  That debt is paid in full,” was the prompt response.  “He saved thee at no peril to himself; thou hast saved him when it might have cost thee thy life.  Thou owest him nothing—­nothing!  Why should he ask this further service of thee?”

Cuthbert smiled.  Cherry’s petulance and vehemence amused him.  Her little spoiled-child tempers and exactions were beginning to have a great charm.  He scarcely knew how much of the deeper fears of dawning womanhood were beginning to intermingle with the “child’s” eager love of her own way.  Love was gradually transforming Cherry, but the transformation was as yet scarcely seen, and the added charm of her new softness and timidity had hardly begun to be observed by those about her.

“He is sorely sick, sweetheart, and he has asked this thing of me.  I have passed my word.  Thou wouldst not have me go back therefrom?”

“He should not have asked thee; he had no right,” flashed out Cherry, in some despite.  “Why did he not ask Walter Cole? he was a fitter person than thou.”

“And wherefore so?”

“Why, everybody knows him for a pestilent Papist!” answered Cherry, with a flash of her big eyes.  “Nothing he did would surprise anybody.  He is suspected already; whilst thou—­nay, Cuthbert, wherefore dost thou laugh?”

“Marry, at the logic of thy words, sweetheart!  Father Urban desires a safe and secret messenger, and thou wouldst have him employ one already suspected and watched!  That were a strange way of setting to work, Why, I may come and go unquestioned.  No man has suspected me of aught, and I am one of those who willingly conform to the laws.  With Walter things be far different:  he might be stopped and searched by any suspicious knave who saw him pushing forth into the river.”