"Clarke, let us to London tomorrow! Easter is nigh at hand, and
your lectures have ceased for the present. Come with me, and let us
see this sight, and bring back word to our friends here how they
regard this matter in London. What do you say?"

Clarke's face was grave and thoughtful.

"I have some thoughts of visiting London myself during the next
week, but I had not thought to go to see the burning of books at
Paul's Cross."

"But that is what I wish to see!" cried Dalaber. "So, whether you
accompany me thither or not, at least let us travel to London
together, and quickly. It will be a thing to remember in days to
come; for verily I believe that the church will awaken soon, and
like a giant refreshed with wine will show what is in her, and will
gather her children about her as a hen gathers her chickens under
her wings, and will feed them, and care for them, and be as she has
been before to them, and that we shall see an end of the darkness
and indifference which has fallen like a pall upon this land."

Clarke rose with a smile, for the twilight was falling, and he
spoke his farewells to one after another of the doctor's family.

Magdalen's eyes looked longest into his, as his dwelt with a dreamy
softness upon her face.

"Are you really going to London? Will it be safe?"