It said simply this-- _Have a care, Walgrave! The Wolfe prowleth o' nights_.
"What make you of that ?" asked I of my master.
"It comes from a friend," said he, "with evil news.

For ever since this greedy John Wolfe was appointed beadle of the Company in room of Timothy Ryder, he hath had a jealous eye on me; and being an old offender himself, he is like to have no terms with others who do as he once did.
Humphrey, our hands are too far gone in this business to pull back now; therefore, Wolfe or no Wolfe, we must end it." "And how ?" said I; "since he will be here to-morrow, and find two presses where there should be but one; and the libels hanging here yet damp from the printing ?" "He must find neither," said my master.

"We have time yet to give him the slip." Then he told me how it was arranged, should this mischance befall, which he had expected long since, that the secret press and stuff pertaining to it, should be removed to Mistress Crane's house near the Dowgate (where Mistress Walgrave now lodged), and thence taken secretly to her country house at Moulsey.

And since there was no time to lose, we set- to then and there to take the press to pieces and bestow it and the printed sheets in barrels, which, when all was done, my master bade me trundle to the river's edge and place on a wherry, and so convey to Dowgate.
The which, with much sweat and labour, I accomplished, and about eight of the clock next morning delivered them at Mistress Crane's house, who asked no question, but gave me a sixpence for my pains, and bade me return at once the way I came.
Now, you must know, so soon as I was back in my boat, I pitched that sixpence into the Thames.

For although, to please Jeannette's step- father, and because I wished well to my Church, I had lent myself to this business, I liked it not, and remembered it each day in my prayers as a thing to be forgiven.