silence, and himself spoke.

"Mr. Simpson," he said, "has something to say to us all. It is not a
matter to be spoken of lightly, as you will understand presently.... Mr.
Simpson."

The priest looked up timidly, pulling out a paper from his pocket.

"You have heard of Mr. Nelson?" he said to the company. "Well, he was a
priest; and I have news of his death. He was executed in London on the
third of February for his religion. And another man, a Mr. Sherwood, was
executed a few days afterwards."

There was a rustle along the benches. Some there had heard of the fact,
but no more; some had heard nothing of either the man or his death. Two
or three faces turned a shade paler; and then the silence settled down
again. For here was a matter that touched them all closely enough; since
up to now scarcely a priest except Mr. Cuthbert Maine had suffered death
for his religion; and even of him some of the more tolerant said that it
was treason with which he was charged. They had heard, indeed, of a
priest or two having been sent abroad into exile for his faith; but the
most of them thought it a thing incredible that in England at this time
a man should suffer death for it. Fines and imprisonment were one thing;
to such they had become almost accustomed. But death was another matter
altogether. And for a priest! Was it possible that the days of King
Harry were coming back; and that every Catholic henceforth should go in
peril of his life as well as of liberty?

The folks settled themselves then in their seats; one or two men drank
off a glass of wine.