"Nay, my son; be not so hot and hasty. Seest thou not that in this
place our work for the time being is well-nigh stopped?

"Not for long," he added quickly, whilst the spark flew from his
eyes--"not for long, mind you, ye proud prelates and cardinal. The
fire you have lighted shall blaze in a fashion ye think not of. The
Word of God is a consuming fire. The sword of the Spirit, the Word
of God, pierces the heart and reins of man; and that sword hath
been wrested from the scabbard in which it has rusted so long, and
the shining of its fiery blade shall soon he seen of all men.

"No," added the priest, after a moment's pause to recover himself
and take up the thread of his discourse; "what was done at Paul's
Cross yesterday was but a check upon our work. The last convoy of
books has been burnt--all, save the few which we were able to save
and to bide beneath the cellar floor. The people have been cowed
for a moment, but it will not last. As soon seek to quench a fire
by pouring wax and oil upon it!"

"You will get more books, then? The work will not cease?"

"It will not cease. More books will come. Our brave Stillyard men
will not long be daunted. But we must act with care. For a time we
must remain quiet. We may not be reckless with the holy books,
which cost much in money and in blood--or may do, if we are rash or
careless. But nothing now can stop their entrance into a land where
men begin to desire earnestly to read them for themselves. Not all,
mind you. It is strange how careless and apathetic are the gentry
of the land--they that one would have thought to be most eager,