now how to make now--quite as hard as stone itself. The
chimneys run up through the walls.

The prisoners were marched up to the great entrance gate, on the south
side of the Castle. The Bailiff blew his horn, and the porter opened a
little wicket and looked out.

"Give you good-morrow, Master Bailiff. Another batch, I reckon?"

"Ay, another batch, belike. You'll have your dungeons full ere long."

"Oh, we've room enough and to spare!" said the porter with a grin.
"None so many, yet. Two men fetched in yestereven for breaking folks'
heads in a drunken brawl; and two or three debtors; and a lad for
thieving, and such; then Master Maynard brought an handful in this
morrow--Moot Hall was getting too full, he said."

"Ay so? who brought he?"

"Oh, Alegar o' Thorpe, and them bits o' children o' his, that should be
learning their hornbooks i' school sooner than be here, trow."

"You'd best teach 'em, Tom," suggested Mr Simnel with a grim smile.
"Now then, in with you!"

And the prisoners were marched into the Castle dungeon.

In the corner of the dungeon sat John Johnson, his Bible on his knee,
and beside him, snuggled close to him, Cissy. Little Will was seated on
the floor at his father's feet, playing with some bits of wood. Johnson
looked up as his friends entered.

"Why, good friends! Shall I say I am glad or sorry to behold you here?"

"Glad," answered William Mount, firmly, "if so we may glorify God."

"I'm glad, I know," said Cissy, jumping from the term, and giving a warm
hug to Rose. "I thought God would send somebody. You see, Father was
down a bit when we came here this morning, and left everybody behind us;
but you've come now, and he'll be ever so pleased. It isn't bad, you
know--not bad at all--and then there's Father. But, Rose, what have you
done to your hand? It's tied up."

"Hush, dear! Only hurt it a bit, Cissy. Don't speak of it," said Rose
in an undertone; "I don't want mother to see it, or she'll trouble about
it, maybe. It doesn't hurt much now."

Cissy nodded, with a face which said that she thoroughly entered into
Rose's wish for silence.

"Eh dear, dear! that we should have lived to see this day!" cried
Margaret Thurston, melting into tears as she sat down in the corner.

"Rose!" said her father suddenly, "thy left hand is bound up. Hast hurt
it, maid?"

Rose's eyes, behind her mother's back, said, "Please don't ask me
anything about it!" But Alice turned round