Cuthbert hung his head a little, and a flush crept into his cheek; but the priest did not appear to heed these slight indications of embarrassment, as he moved slowly up the stairs to the window above to tell the expectant crowd to disperse, as their victim was no spy, but an honest country lad, whose father was known to the priest, and who had lost his way in London, and strayed inadvertently into their midst.

Then the crowd having dispersed to seek fresh amusement, the priest, at Cuthbert’s desire, showed him all over this leper house, and told him much respecting the condition of the miserable inmates before they had been admitted to this place of refuge; and Cuthbert gazed with awe-stricken eyes at the scarred and emaciated sufferers, filled with compassion and not loathing, and at last drew forth one of his golden pieces from his purse and asked the priest to expend it for the benefit of the poor lepers.

“That will I gladly do, my son.  But I must not let thee linger longer here; for although I myself hold that the whole and sound are not affected by the taint, there be leeches of repute who swear ’tis death to abide long beside the leper.”

“Thou hast not found it so, Father.  Dost thou live here?”

“Nay, I have no home.  I go hither and thither as duty calls me.  But I am often here with these sick folks of mine, whom so few men will dare approach unto.  But I myself have never been the worse for my ministrations here, and I have no fears for thee, though I would not have thee linger.  We will be going now, and I will be thy guide out of these dens of the earth, else might some more untoward thing befall thee when none might be nigh to succour thee.”

The priest and the youth passed out together.  The early dusk was beginning to fall, and Cuthbert was glad enough of the protection of Father Urban’s companionship.  All saluted the priest as he passed by, and few even looked askance at his comrade.  The influence of these Roman Catholics over the hearts and feelings of the masses has always been very great—­something of an enigma and a grievance to those who would fain see naught but evil within the fold of Rome.  But facts are stubborn things, and the facts have been in this matter in their favour.  England as a nation was slowly but surely throwing off the Papal yoke, and emerging from a region of darkness and superstition.  Nevertheless, the influence of the priest was a living and often a beneficent influence amongst the most degraded of the people, and he could and did obtain a reverent hearing when no man else coming in the name of Christ would have been listened to for a single moment.

As the pair moved along the dark, noisome streets, Father Urban spoke again in his quick, imperious way.

“Thou spakest awhile ago of one Master Robert Catesby; hast thou seen aught of him since thy arrival in London?”

“No,” answered Cuthbert; “I have had much else to do and to think of.  But I must to him one day, and demand my purse again, else may he think I have been left for dead on the highway.”