of toil is when the queen bids me construct little puppet-boxes for
her children! How, then, can I change the world? And thou," he
added, doubtingly and eagerly--"thou, with thy plots and stratagem,
and active demagogy, thinkest thou that thou hast changed the world,
or extracted one drop of evil out of the mixture of gall and hyssop
which man is born to drink?"

Hilyard was silent, and the two world-betterers--the philosopher and
the demagogue--gazed on each other, half in sympathy, half in
contempt. At last Robin said,--

"Mine old friend, hope sustains us both; and in the wilderness we yet
behold the Pisgah! But to my business. Doubtless thou art permitted
to visit Henry in his prison."

"Not so," replied Adam; "and for the rest, since I now eat King
Edward's bread, and enjoy what they call his protection, ill would it
beseem me to lend myself to plots against his throne."

"Ah, man, man, man," exclaimed Hilyard, bitterly, "thou art like all
the rest,--scholar or serf, the same slave; a king's smile bribes thee
from a people's service!"

Before Adam could reply, a panel in the wainscot slid back and the
bald head of a friar peered into the room. "Son Adam," said the holy
man, "I crave your company an instant, oro vestrem aurem;" and with
this abominable piece of Latinity the friar vanished.

With a resigned and mournful shrug of the shoulders, Adam walked
across the room, when Hilyard, arresting his progress, said, crossing