y enough, "mine errand was to warn these my
friends. God may yet save them, if it be His will. And may He not lay
to your charge the blood that will otherwise be shed!"

"Mercy on us!" cried Mrs Clere again, dropping her duster. "Why, the
jade's never a bit better than these precious friends of hers!"

"I'm sore afeared we have been nourishing a serpent in our bosoms," said
Nicholas, in his sternest manner. "I had best see to this."

"Well, I wouldn't hurt the maid," said his wife, in an uneasy tone;
"but, dear heart! we must see to ourselves a bit. We shall get into
trouble if such things be tracked to our house."

"So we shall," answered her husband. "I shall go, speak with the
priest, and see what he saith. Without"--and he turned to
Elizabeth--"thou wilt be penitent, and go to mass, and do penance for
thy fault."

"I am willing enough to do penance for my faults, Master," said
Elizabeth, "but not for the warning that I would have given; for no
fault is in it."

"Then must we need save ourselves," replied Nicholas: "for the innocent
must not suffer for the guilty. Wife, thou wert best lock up this hussy
in some safe place; and, daughter, go thou not nigh her. This manner of
heresy is infectious, and I would not have thee defiled therewith."

"Nay, I'll have nought to do with what might get me into trouble," said
Amy, flippantly. "Bessy may swallow the Bible if she likes; I shan't."

Elizabeth was silent, quietly standing to hear her doom pronounced. She
knew it was equivalent to a sentence of death. No priest, consulted on
such a subject would dare to leave the heretic undenounced. And she had
no friends save that widowed mother at Stoke Nayland--a poor woman,
without money or influence; and that other Friend who would be sure to
stand by her,--who, that He might save others, had not saved Himself.

Nicholas took up his hat and marched out, and Mrs Clere ordered
Elizabeth off to a little room over the porch, generally used as a
lumber room, where she locked her up.

"Now then, think on thy ways!" said she. "It'll mayhap do thee good.
Bread and water's all thou'lt get, I promise thee, and better than thy
demerits. Dear heart! to turn a tidy house upside-down like this, and
all for a silly maid's fancies, forsooth! I hope thou feels ashamed of
thyself; for I do for thee."

"Mistress, I can never be ashamed of God's truth. To that will I stand,
if He grant me grace."

"Have done with thy c