ture is all of one sort, fair and goodly;
far-fetched and dear-bought, which is good for gentlewomen, and liketh
them: fast colours the broidery, I do ensure you."

Mrs Wade looked round, so far as she could see by the little wicket,
everything was black--even the floor, which was covered with black
shining lumps of all shapes and sizes. She touched one of the lumps.
There, could be no doubt of its nature. The "polished black oak"
furniture was cobs of coal, and the sumptuous apartment wherein she was
to--lodged was Bishop Bonner's coal-cellar.

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.

"READY! AY, READY!"

It was the evening of the first of August. The prisoners in the Castle,
now reduced to four--the Mounts, Rose, and Johnson--had held their
Bible-reading and their little evening prayer-meeting, and sat waiting
for supper. John and Margaret Thurston, who had been with them until
that day, were taken away in the morning to undergo examination, and had
not returned. The prisoners had not yet heard when they were to die.
They only knew that it would be soon, and might be any day. Yet we are
told they remained in their dungeons "with much joy and great comfort,
in continual reading and invocating the name of God, ever looking and
expecting the happy day of their dissolution."

We should probably feel more inclined to call it a horrible day. But
they called it a happy day. They expected to change their prison for a
palace, and their prison bonds for golden harps, and the prison fare for
the fruit or the Tree of Life, and the company of scoffers and
tormentors for that of Seraphim and Cherubim, and the blessed dead: and
above all, to see His Face who had laid down His life for them.

Supper was late that evening. They could hear voices outside, with
occasional exclamations of surprise, and now and then a peal of
laughter. At length the door was unlocked, and the gaoler's man came in
with four trenchers, piled on each other, on each of which was laid a
slice of rye-bread and a piece of cheese. He served out one to each
prisoner.

"Want your appetites sharpened?" said he with a sarcastic laugh.
"Because, if you do, there's news for you."

"Prithee let us hear it, Bartle," answered Mount, quietly.

"Well, first, writs is come down. Moot Hall prisoners suffer at six
to-morrow, on the waste by Lexden Road, and you'll get your deserving i'
th' afternoon, in the Castle yard."

"God be praised!" solemnly responded William M