* * * *
As the four rode home by pairs across the field-path in the frosty
moonlight Mr. Buxton lamented to Anthony the effect of the Armada.
"The national spirit is higher than ever," he said, "and it will be the
death of Catholicism here for the present. Our country squires, I fear,
faithful Catholics to this time, are beginning to wonder and question.
When will our Catholic kings learn that Christ His Kingdom is not of this
world? Philip has smitten the Faith in England with the weapon which he
drew in its defence, as he thought."
"I was once of that national spirit myself," said Anthony.
"I remember you were," said Mr. Buxton, smiling; "and what grace has done
to you it may do to others."
* * * *
The spring went by, and in the week after Easter, James' news about
Lancashire was verified by a letter from a friend of Mr. Buxton's, a Mr.
Norreys, the owner of one of the staunch Catholic houses, Speke Hall, on
the bank of the Mersey.
"Here," he wrote, "by the mercy of God there is no lack of priests,
though there be none to spare; my own chaplain says mass by dispensation
thrice on Sunday; but on the moors the sheep look up and are not fed; and
such patient sheep! I heard but last week of a church where the folk
resort, priest or no, each Sunday to the number of two hundred, and are
led by a lector in devotion, ending with an act of spiritual communion
made all together.
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