be fleeing a worse peril from the arm of the law; and neither thy
face nor thy dress looks like that. Hast thou not heard of
Whitefriars and its perils? or art thou a rustic knave, unversed in
the ways of the town?"

Cuthbert told his story frankly enough. He had lost himself in the
streets, and was in the forbidden region before he well knew. A few
kindly and dexterous questions from Father Urban led him to tell
all that there was to know about himself, his parentage and his
past; and the priest listened with great attention, scanning the
face of the youth narrowly the while.

"Trevlyn--the name is known to us. It was a good old name once, and
may be still again. I have seen thy father, Nicholas Trevlyn. It
may be I shall see him again one day. Be true to thy father's
faith, boy; be not led away by hireling shepherds. The day is
coming on England when the true faith shall spread from end to end
of the land, and all heretics shall be confounded! See that thou
art in thy place in that day! See that thou art found by thy
father's side in the hour of victory!"

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