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Updated: June 24, 2025


How can I forget? How can I be happy? Methinks sometimes I would he more truly happy were I lying beside him there." Arthur drew Dalaber a little away from the rest. "Have you had news of him?" "Such news as might be had. Some of the brethren, if they can still be so called, when they are as sheep scattered without a shepherd some of them came to bid me adieu and speak comforting words.

But I beg you to have a care for the future, Anthony, and especially during these Lenten weeks upon which we have just entered. For a strict watch will be kept over all suspected men; and if you are found with forbidden books in your possession " Arthur's eyes roved keenly round the pleasant chamber as he left his sentence unfinished. "I have none here," answered Dalaber.

"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." "I shall not have forgotten," spoke Dalaber, holding out his hand; "whenever the Brotherhood calls upon me it will find me ready."

They sat down in the failing gleams of the setting sun, and Dalaber told of Garret's night and the errand on which he was bound. Arthur smiled, and slightly shrugged his shoulders; but the confidence his friend unconsciously put in him by these revelations was sacred to him. He had not desired to know; but at least the secret was safe with him.

These words often came into the mind of the priest, Thomas Garret, during the three days which Anthony Dalaber spent at his house, hard by the rushing river, in the city of London. There were ten years in age between them. Dalaber was a youth who had seen little of life beyond what he had learned in Oxford, whereas Garret had already passed through strange and perilous experiences.

"A saint of the Lord, if ever there was one!" cried Dalaber earnestly. "Oh, if only they would let me share his confinement! What would not I give to be with him, to tend and comfort him, and listen to his godly words! I should fear nothing, were he beside me. Surely the angels of the Lord will be about his bed through the hours of darkness, and will keep him from the malice of his enemies."

Dalaber felt the thrill of what was half relief, half fear, run through him; but his glance did not quail. "He is gone," he answered quietly, "and no man has sought to lay hands upon me." "No, and right glad am I of it. I have spoken up for you as one of my friends, and a young man of promise and integrity.

Suddenly he threw back his head and said: "In a good and righteous cause I would face death gladly without shrinking." The keen, flashing eyes were fixed full upon his face. The clear voice spoke on in terse, emphatic phrases. "Be sure of thyself, Anthony Dalaber. Put not thy hand to the plough only to turn back. So far thou art safe. But I have come to do a work here that is charged with peril.

The authorities were busy unravelling the "web of iniquity," making fresh discoveries of books, chiefly copies of the New Testament, circulating amongst the students, and sending to prison those who possessed them, or had been known to be connected with the Association of Christian Brothers. All that Arthur could contrive during that first week was a visit to the cell of Dalaber.

Dalaber and Freda stood face to face in the flickering light, their eyes full upon each other. He bent down suddenly, and kissed her with an almost passionate intensity of feeling. "If they make strict inquisition, my beloved, they may find that Anthony Dalaber is numbered amongst the heretics." "I know it," Freda answered, and her voice was very low.

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